was as if she’d shut out the outside world.
No, actually, thought Anna-Maria, suddenly feeling uncomfortable. She isn’t shutting out the outside world. She’s shutting herself in.
“We appreciate the fact that you were able to come straightaway,” said Olof Strandgård. “We heard just a little while ago that you’d taken Sanna in for questioning. You must realize it’s a mistake. My wife and I are extremely concerned.”
“I understand,” said Sven-Erik. “But perhaps we could take one thing at a time. If we ask some questions regarding Viktor first, we can talk about your daughter afterward.”
“Of course,” said Olof Strandgård with a smile.
Well done, Sven-Erik, thought Anna-Maria. Take command now, otherwise the visit will be over before we’ve got an answer to anything.
“Could you tell us about Viktor,” said Sven-Erik. “What kind of person was he?”
“In what way is this information likely to be of assistance in your investigation?” asked Olof Strandgård.
“It’s a question we always ask,” said Sven-Erik, not allowing himself to be provoked. “We have to try and build a picture of him, since we didn’t know him when he was alive.”
“He was gifted,” said his father seriously. “Extremely gifted. I suppose that’s what any parent would say about their child, but if you ask his teachers they’ll confirm what I say. He got top grades in every subject, and he was highly musical. He had the ability to focus. On his schoolwork. On guitar lessons. And after the accident he focused one hundred percent on God.”
He leaned back on the sofa and pulled his right trouser leg up a fraction before crossing his right leg over the left.
“It was no easy calling God laid upon the boy,” he went on. “He put everything else to one side. Left school, and gave up his music. He preached and prayed. And he had a burning conviction that the revival would come to Kiruna, but he was also convinced that this could only happen if the free churches joined together. United we stand, divided we fall, as they say. At that time there was no sense of community between the Pentecostal church, the Mission church and the Baptist church, but he was determined. Only seventeen when he got the call. He more or less forced the pastors to start meeting and praying together: Thomas Söderberg from the Mission church, Vesa Larsson from the Pentecostal church and Gunnar Isaksson from the Baptist church.”
Anna-Maria squirmed in the armchair. She was uncomfortable, and the baby was boxing with her bladder.
“He got his calling in connection with his accident?” she asked.
“Yes. The boy was riding his bike in the middle of winter, and he was hit by a car. Well, you’re from Kiruna, you know the rest. The church just kept on growing, and we were able to build the Crystal Church. It’s just as well known as the lad himself. We had some really famous singers at the Christmas concert there in December.”
“How was your relationship with him?” asked Sven-Erik. “Were you close?”
Anna-Maria could see how Sven-Erik was making a real effort to draw Kristina Strandgård in with his questions, but she was staring blankly at the pattern on the wallpaper.
“Our family is very close,” said Olof Strandgård.
“Was he going out with anybody? Did he have other interests outside the church?”
“No, as I said, he decided to put everything else in life to one side for the time being, and to work only for God.”
“But didn’t that worry you? Not having anything to do with girls, or any hobbies?”
“No, not at all.” Viktor’s father laughed, as if he found what Sven-Erik had just said utterly ridiculous.
“Who were his closest friends?”
Sven-Erik looked at the photographs on the walls. Above the television hung a large photograph of Sanna and Viktor. Two children with long, silvery blond hair. Sanna’s in ringlets. Viktor’s straight as a waterfall. Sanna must have been in her early teens. It was quite clear that she was refusing to smile for the photographer. There was something defiant in the turned-down corners of her mouth. Viktor’s expression was also serious, but natural. As if he was sitting and thinking about something else altogether, and had forgotten where he was.
“Sanna was thirteen and the boy was ten,” said Olof, who had noticed Sven-Erik looking at the photograph. “It’s obvious how much he looked up to his sister. Wanted to have long hair just like hers from when he was little, and screamed like a stuck pig if his mother ever came near him with the scissors.