Then he took it home, pleased to have gained a new tool, and stashed it with the others; he bragged about the discovery to those around him. Not least Filip Söderström, who was given a tour of the house and workshop before it became his.
“This here, why, I found it for free out in the field. Well, no one’s going to miss this, I said, so I brought it home with me.”
When Filip told Isidor about this, the old priest mused about spades, what strange things they are.
“Whose do you think it was, originally?” Isidor said.
“I think I recognize it,” Filip said. “I think it’s the one that used to hang on the wall outside Jakob Lindell’s house.”
80
“I would like,” Vidar said calmly, “for you to explain to me in as much detail as possible what you did after the funeral.”
The interrogation room was small, the air cool. They were alone with only the computer for company. Vidar hadn’t even glanced at it so far. Instead, he was ready with a pen and notepad.
Jakob waited, his hands resting on his knees, anxiously eyeing Vidar from across the table.
“What did you say?”
“The funeral,” Vidar repeated patiently. “What did you do after the service? Be as specific as you can.”
Jakob launched into his account, though he was hesitant at first. Then he gathered momentum as if someone had shaken him and the words couldn’t rattle out fast enough.
“Thank you.” Vidar gestured discreetly with his hand, asking Jakob to pause as he finished jotting a note. “There was coffee at the village hall. Then what happened?”
“Then it was over.”
“And what did you do after?”
“We just went home. Me and Alice.”
“Right. But be as detailed as you can, Jakob. What time was it when you left?”
“Gosh.” Jakob made a face. “I don’t know, maybe two thirty or three? I dropped Alice off at home, and then I ran some errands.”
“How come you dropped Alice off first?”
“Our youngest was with a babysitter while we were at the funeral. Tora—that’s the babysitter—had to get home.”
“How old are your kids?”
“Eight and fourteen. And Lisa’s twenty-one, she lives in town. We”—Jakob realized more explanation would be required—“Alice and I went grocery shopping later that night, but by then the fourteen-year-old was back home and could keep an eye on her little sister.”
“So you were alone?”
“When?”
“When you ran errands after dropping Alice off. You did them alone?”
“Yes.”
“Did Alice know you had errands to run even before the funeral service?”
“Uh, yeah, I had mentioned it. She knew I was probably going to get a few things taken care of afterwards, if I had the energy. It depended on how taxing the funeral ended up being.”
“What kind of errands?”
“I…” Jakob began, but then he didn’t say anything for a long time.
