The Torso - By Helene Tursten Page 0,132

She was completely dressed in black and was even more beautiful in person. Her thick brownish black hair billowed like a shiny waterfall down her back and framed a finely chiseled face. Her eyes were large and slightly almond shaped; the nose, small and straight. Her mouth was generous with full, sensual lips. Her petite body didn’t bear the slightest evidence of two pregnancies. Irene noticed that the woman in the door opening barely reached her chest.

Irene and Hannu introduced themselves and Sara Bolin let them into the pink-painted shoeboxlike row house. She held her arms tightly wrapped around herself, as if she were freezing. She looked very thin and frail in a black long-sleeved cotton shirt and black pants.

“Kristian is sleeping and Johannes is with the neighbor’s kids, playing. He’s only three and doesn’t understand what’s happened. Sometimes he asks about Pappa but he’s used to his father working a lot and often being away.”

Sara’s voice broke and tears glimmered in her dark eyes. She turned her face away and said, “Please, come in.”

She gestured toward a pair of open glass doors. The police officers entered the small living room and sat on a comfortable leather couch. The couch was light brown and the rug under the glass coffee table was light beige. Everything was free of stains and dust. Irene had a feeling that the little boys weren’t allowed in this room.

“Maybe I should put on some coffee?” said Sara Bolin.

Before Irene had time to say yes, Hannu replied, “No, thank you. We won’t be here very long.”

Sara didn’t insist but sank down onto a couch across from Irene and Hannu. She clasped her hands tightly in her lap. Irene could see her knuckles turning white.

“Have you caught him?” she whispered, almost inaudibly.

Calmly, Hannu asked, “Who?”

She gave a start and gave Hannu a look of disapproval.

“The one that did . . . that . . . to Erik.”

“No. We’re following several leads. Personally, do you have any suspicions of someone?” Irene asked.

Sara aimed her beautiful eyes at Irene and shook her head sadly.

“No. I don’t understand who would want to . . . Why?”

“Erik was never threatened, never said that he felt threatened?”

“No. Never! He was the nicest person in the world. Liked by everyone,” Sara said firmly.

Irene looked at her and nodded thoughtfully. “Right. Erik said that you were aware of his bisexuality when you got married. Is that true?”

The slender body collapsed. After a while, Sara sat up and said defiantly, “Yes. I knew about it. But I was the one he loved. No woman could want a better man than Erik. Why are you asking me this?”

“There are signs that point to sexual activity before the murder,” said Irene.

It was repulsive having to inform the widow about this particularly sensitive point, but the fact was that Professor Stridner had identified semen on Erik Bolin’s body. The strange thing was that it was in his hair. She hadn’t found any in the rectum or anywhere else. The analysis wasn’t complete so she couldn’t say who the seminal fluid had come from.

If it turned out to have been from someone other than Erik Bolin, the technicians would send the DNA analysis to Copenhagen to match against the semen stain found under Emil’s bed.

Sara’s voice was tense as she replied. “We loved each other tremendously from the first time we met. There was a lot of passion in the beginning; we felt we were right for each other. He told me about his bisexuality before we moved in together. I can’t say that he deceived me. He was completely open. But I didn’t have a choice since I loved him so much. Either I had to accept his orientation or I would have had to leave him. The latter never felt like an option.”

“Then you were prepared to share him with a man?” Irene wondered.

Sara started twisting a strand of her hair. It took a while before she answered, “No. Not to share him with anyone else. But I thought that his love for me was so strong that he had gotten over . . . that.”

She fell silent and started absentmindedly making a knot in the strand of hair. To get her to continue, Irene said, “From what I understand he hadn’t gotten over it.”

Sara gave a start as if Irene had stuck her with a needle. With resignation she said, “No. When I was pregnant with Johannes I understood that he had been seeing someone else.

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