The Scent of Almonds and Other Stories

‘How would you describe your relationship with your father?’

Gustav flinched and seemed to have a hard time deciding where to look. Finally he fixed his eyes on the desk as he stammered: ‘Well, er, um. What should I say? It was like most father–son relationships. In other words, occasionally it could get a bit complicated.’ He laughed nervously.

‘A bit complicated?’ Martin paged through his notes to find what he’d written about his interview with Harald. Then he went on. ‘From what I understand, both you and your brother had a very complicated relationship with Ruben. But the same might be said of the interaction between you and Harald. It seems to be rather problematic.’

Gustav gave another nervous laugh. He still hadn’t looked Martin in the eye. He kept his gaze steadfastly fixed on the desk.

‘It’s not always easy being a member of this family. To say that Father had high expectations would be an understatement.’

‘I’ve heard that his intention in putting you and your brother in management positions at the family business was to bring you closer together. Is that right?’

Gustav’s only reply was a disdainful snort.

‘From what I can gather, things didn’t work out too well,’ Martin persisted.

‘No, they didn’t.’ Gustav didn’t seem particularly keen on discussing the topic, but that didn’t stop Martin.

‘I’m thinking about what your father said at the dinner table. About the company. What was he referring to?’

Now Gustav seemed genuinely uncomfortable as he shifted position on his chair. ‘I have no idea,’ he said after a moment. It was the same answer that his brother had given. Martin didn’t believe either of them.

‘But he must have had something specific in mind. Besides, the last thing he did was more or less vow to disinherit all of you. That’s a pretty drastic step to take.’

‘It was nothing but hot air,’ said Gustav, fidgeting with the hem of his jacket. ‘He’s issued that same threat before. It was a way for him to show who was in charge, and it made him feel that he still had some power. But he didn’t mean anything by it.’

‘That wasn’t my impression,’ said Martin.

‘But you don’t know the family very well,’ snapped Gustav, tugging even harder at his jacket. He looked uneasy.

Martin continued to question Gustav for another half hour, but got nothing useful out of him. He continued to maintain that no one in the family would dream of killing Ruben. And no, he hadn’t noticed anything suspicious during the course of the day or evening. No, he didn’t understand what his father was referring to in the statements he’d made at dinner.

Eventually a cautious knock on the door interrupted the interview. It was Kerstin.

‘I’m sorry to disturb you. I just wanted to say that we’re serving coffee in the library, so when you’re done here …’

Martin sighed. ‘We may as well stop now. But we’ll continue our talk later.’ He hadn’t intended it to sound like a threat, but Gustav gave a start. Then he stood up and hurried out of the office.

Martin was feeling more and more frustrated. He began to wonder if he was up to the job. Once again he wished that Patrik Hedström were here to advise him. But he wasn’t. So there was nothing for it but to take charge and do the best he could. As soon as they were able to make contact with civilization again, he’d summon the backup that he needed. If he could only stand his ground until then, everything would be fine.

Martin could hear raised voices as he walked down the corridor towards the library. When he entered the room he saw Gustav and Harald. Both men were red in the face, and saliva was flying as they shouted at each other.

‘You’re always so conceited! You think you’re better at everything!’ yelled Gustav, shaking his fist at his brother.

‘If I’m conceited, it’s because I am better at everything than you are! Name one thing you’ve ever succeeded at – go on, name one thing!’

The flush on Harald’s face made Martin worry that the man might be on the verge of a heart attack. Apparently Britten had the same thought because she was standing behind her husband, trying to calm him down by pulling on his arm and pleading with him to stop.

‘As if you’ve had so much success yourself! I heard why those American suppliers backed out last spring. They considered you to be incompetent and unreliable – you even managed to insult their CEO. So thanks to you we lost a contract that could have generated up to ten per cent of next year’s sales!’

Harald made a lunge for Gustav, who hastily jumped away. Britten tugged even harder at her husband’s arm, trying to hold him back.

‘Harald, please. Stop this. It’s so unnecessary. You’re brothers, after all. And think about your blood pressure …’ But her husband refused to listen to her.

‘Well, at least I’m not an embezzler,’ Harald snarled. He turned to Martin. ‘You didn’t know about that, did you? My dear brother has been withdrawing money from the company accounts for over a year. More than five million kronor in total. The auditors just found out about it, and that was probably what Father was referring to at dinner. So if you’re looking for a motive, there it is – five million kronor.’

Harald pointed triumphantly at Gustav, whose face had turned so white that it seemed almost transparent.

‘Ha! What do you have to say for yourself now?’ Harald shook off Britten’s hand and folded his arms. He looked like the proverbial cat who’d swallowed a very plump canary.

‘It was … it was a loan,’ stammered Gustav. ‘I was going to pay the money back. On my word of honour. Every single öre. I only borrowed it because … I …’ He turned to look at Vivi who, like Britten, was standing beside her husband. She was staring at him wide-eyed.

‘Gustav?’ Again Vivi raised her hand to her throat. ‘What … what is Harald talking about? Five million kronor? Gustav?’

With a look of despair he stretched out a hand to his wife, who quickly took a step back to avoid his touch.

‘Sweetheart … I …’ Gustav turned towards the window, as if trying to find a way out, but the blizzard had not let up in the slightest, and it had effectively cut off all escape routes. Then he sank into a chair and buried his face in his hands. In utter silence the others stared at him. Vivi in disbelief, Harald with a triumphant expression, Bernard with obvious glee, and Britten with a certain amount of sympathy.

‘What did you do with the money?’ Vivi was the first to break the silence, her voice quavering. When she received no reply, she repeated her question. ‘Gustav, what did you do with the money?’

First they heard a deep sigh, then came his answer, the words barely intelligible.

‘I … gambled it all away.’

Vivi inhaled sharply. Bernard laughed. Martin saw Miranda give him a sharp jab in the side as she hissed: ‘Stop that!’

‘You … gambled the money away?’ Vivi shook her head and seemed unable to comprehend what she’d heard. ‘Gambled on what?’

Still with his face buried in his hands, Gustav muttered: ‘Horses, Internet poker games – you name it. Anything that would give me that adrenalin rush. And in the beginning I won. I won big time. But then I started losing. I thought that if I kept going for a little while, I’d win it all back. Then I could return the money to the company.’