himself around Sven-Erik’s legs until the food was safely in the bowl. Then he put the coffee percolator on, and it gurgled into action. When Anna-Maria Mella rang he’d just taken his first bite of a sandwich.
“Listen to this,” she said, her voice crackling with energy. “I was talking to Sanna Strandgård yesterday morning and we were discussing the fact that the murder seemed so ritualistic and about passages in the Bible where it talks about hands being cut off and eyes put out and all that sort of thing.”
Sven-Erik grunted between mouthfuls, and Anna-Maria went on:
“Sanna quoted Mark 9:43: ‘And if your hand causes you to sin, cut it off. It is better for you to enter life maimed than with two hands to go into hell, where their worm does not die, and the fire is not quenched. And if your foot causes you to sin, cut it off. It is better for you to enter life crippled than to have two feet and be thrown into hell, where their worm does not die, and the fire is not quenched. And if your eye causes you to sin, pluck it out. It is better for you to enter the kingdom of God with one eye than to have two eyes and be thrown into hell, where their worm does not die, and the fire is not quenched.’ ”
“And?” said Sven-Erik, with the feeling that he was being rather slow.
“But she didn’t read the beginning of the text!” Anna-Maria went on excitedly. “This is what it says in Mark 9:42: ‘And if anyone causes one of these little ones who believe in me to sin, it would be better for him to be thrown into the sea with a millstone around his neck.’ ”
Sven-Erik clamped the receiver between his shoulder and his ear and picked up Manne, who was rubbing against his legs.
“There are parallel passages in the gospels of both Luke and Matthew,” said Anna-Maria. “In Matthew it says that a child’s angels in heaven always see the face of God. And when I checked in my confirmation Bible, there was a note explaining that this was a very clear expression of the fact that children are under God’s special protection. According to Hebrew belief at that time, each individual has their own angel who speaks for them before God, and only the most elevated angels were believed to have access to the throne of God.”
"So you mean somebody killed him because he caused one of these little ones to sin," said Sven-Erik thoughtfully. "Do you mean he…?"
He broke off, feeling distaste wash over him before he went on.
“With Sanna’s girls, then.”
“Why did she miss the beginning?” said Anna-Maria. “Von Post is right, in any case. We have to talk to Sanna Strandgård’s children. She might have had a damned good reason to hate her brother. We need to get in touch with the child protection unit. They can help us talk to the girls.”
When they’d hung up, Sven-Erik stayed at the kitchen table with the cat on his knee.
Shit, he thought. Anything but that.
It was the pastors’ secretary Ann-Gull Kyrö who answered the office telephone at the church when Rebecka rang at quarter past eight in the morning. Rebecka had just dropped the children off and was on her way back to the car. When she asked for Thomas Söderberg, she heard the woman on the other end of the phone inhale sharply.
“Unfortunately,” said Ann-Gull, “he and Gunnar Isaksson are busy with the morning service and cannot be disturbed.”
“Where’s Vesa Larsson?”
“He’s not well today, he’s not to be disturbed either.”
“Perhaps I could leave a message for Thomas Söderberg. I’d like him to ring me; the number is—”
“I’m sorry,” Ann-Gull interrupted her politely. “But during the Miracle Conference the pastors are extremely busy and won’t have time to ring people who are trying to get hold of them.”
“But if I could just explain,” said Rebecka, “I’m representing Sanna Strandgård and—”
The woman on the other end of the line interrupted her again. This time there was a certain element of sharpness beneath the polite tones.
“I know exactly who you are, Rebecka Martinsson,” she said. “But as I said, the pastors have no time during the conference.”
Rebecka clenched her hands.
“You can tell the pastors that I’m not going to disappear just because they’re ignoring me,” she said furiously. “I—”
“I have no intention of telling them anything,” Ann-Gull Kyrö interjected. “And there’s no point in threatening me. This conversation is over.