When Joona had to phone to tell her they feared her daughter, Viola, was dead, Claudias voice sounded unnaturally calm.
No, that cant be. Viola is out in the archipelago with her sister, shed said.
On Bjorn Almskogs boat? Joona asked.
Yes. I called Penelope and asked her to take her sister with them. I thought Viola needed to get away for a while.
Was there anyone else on the boat?
Bjorn, of course.
Joona had fallen silent and waited a few seconds to force away the heaviness in his heart. Then hed cleared his throat and said, very softly, Mrs. Fernandez, I would like you to come to the department of forensic medicines pathology office in Solna.
Why? shed asked.
Now Joona is sitting on an uncomfortable chair in the office of the chief medical officer. Wedged in the corner of the frame of The Needles wedding picture is a tiny photo of Frippe. From a distance they keep hearing the ball thud against the wall. It is a lonely sound. Joona remembers how Claudia Fernandez had caught her breath when she finally understood that her daughter might indeed not be alive. Theyd arranged for a taxi to pick her up from her town house in the Gustavsberg neighborhood. She should arrive here any minute.
The Needle had tried for some small talk but gave up when Joona did not respond. Both of them wish this moment would soon be over.
Hearing steps in the hallway, they rise from their chairs.
To see the dead body of a loved one is merciless-everyones worst fear. The experts say it is a necessary step in the process of grief. Joona has read that once an identification is made, theres a certain kind of liberation. One can no longer sustain wild fantasies that the person is still alive. These kinds of fantasies and hopes only lead to frustration and emptiness.
Those are nothing but empty words, Joona thinks. Death is horrible and it never gives you anything back.
Claudia Fernandez is now in the doorway. Shes a woman of about sixty, frightened. Traces of worry are etched on her face. She huddles as if chilled.
Joona greets her gently.
Hello. My name is Joona Linna and Im a detective inspector. We spoke on the phone earlier.
The Needle introduces himself almost soundlessly as he briefly shakes the womans hand and then turns away to shuffle through some folders and files. It must seem he is a cold person, but Joona knows hes deeply moved.
Ive been calling and calling, but I cant reach my girls, Claudia says. They should-
Shall we go in? The Needle interrupts, as if he hadnt heard her words.
Silently they walk through the familiar hallway. With each step Joona feels as if air is being squeezed from his body. Claudia is in no rush. She walks slowly a few paces behind The Needle, whose tall silhouette precedes them. Joona turns and tries to smile at Claudia, but then he has to turn away from the expression in her eyes. The panic, the pleading, the prayers-her attempts to make a bargain with God.
It feels as if she is being dragged in their wake as they enter the morgue.
The Needle mumbles something to himself in an angry tone. Then he bends down and unlocks the stainless-steel locker and pulls out the drawer.
The young womans body is covered with a white cloth except for her head. Her eyes are dull and half closed, her cheeks a little sunken, but her hair is still a black crown about her beautiful face. A small, pale hand is half uncovered along her side.
Claudia Fernandez reaches out her hand, carefully touches the hand of her daughter, and begins to whimper. It comes from deep within, as if in this moment part of her is breaking to pieces.
She begins to shake. She falls to her knees. She holds her daughters lifeless hand to her lips.
No, no, shes crying. Oh God, dear Lord, not Viola. Not Viola
From a few feet behind, Joona watches her shoulders shake as she cries; he hears her despairing wail crescendo and then gradually fall away.
She wipes at the tears streaming down her face, breathing shakily as she slowly gets back up on her feet.
Can you positively confirm that this is Viola Fernandez? The Needle says gruffly.
His voice stops and he quickly clears his throat, angry at himself.
Claudia nods her head and gently moves her fingertips over her daughters cheek.
Viola, Violita
She draws back her shaking hand and Joona slowly says, Im very, very sorry for your loss.
Claudia looks faint but reaches out a hand to the wall for support. She turns her face away and whispers to herself.
We were going to the circus on Saturday. I bought tickets as a surprise for Viola
They all look at the dead woman: her pale lips and the arteries in her throat.
Ive forgotten who you are, Claudia says in confusion. She looks at Joona.
Joona Linna, he says.
Joona Linna, the woman says with a thick voice. Let me tell you about my daughter Viola. She is my little girl, my youngest, my happy little
Claudia looks at Violas white face and it seems as if she might fall to one side. The Needle pulls over a chair, but Claudia waves it away.
Please forgive me, she says. Its just that my eldest daughter, Penelope, had to endure so many terrible things in El Salvador. When I think about what they did to me in that jail, when I remember how frightened Penelope was, how shed cry and scream for me hour after hour but I couldnt answer her, I couldnt protect her