The Complete Game Trilogy: Game, Buzz, Bubble. Литагент HarperCollins USD

psycho-babble of the sort she’d heard so many times before, and it had never led to anything positive.

      Did he really want to hear the truth?

      That she felt like shit?

      And even if she was entirely honest and told her whole story, and turned her feelings, thoughts and reflections inside out – was that going to help? Could it make everything undone? Hardly, so she’d have to pull out the tried and tested mask.

      ‘Thanks, but I feel fine, in myself,’ she managed to say, with something that was supposed to be a helpful smile.

      She glanced at the time, twenty minutes or so since they started the debriefing talk, and she’d be lucky to get away with anything less than half an hour.

      It had been Rebecca who’d insisted on the eight o’clock appointment. She wanted to get the conversation with Anderberg out of the way, so she could head over to Maria Trappgränd before her layabout brother had even opened his eyes …

      Anderberg sighed and leafed through his notes.

      ‘Have you had a chance to talk to anyone else about what happened? Friends, family, colleagues, maybe?’

      He looked at her over his narrow glasses.

      ‘No,’ she said, slightly too abruptly, then realized her mistake at once and tried to correct herself. ‘No, I haven’t had time to talk to anyone yet, it only happened last night, after all, and I wanted to see you first.’

      A little smile to top off the lie ought to do the trick?

      Nice save! Anderberg was thinking.

      A smart girl, this one, but not smart enough to catch him out, at least not the day after such a traumatic experience as the one she’d just been through. A car crash and her partner in intensive care, that wasn’t the sort of thing you could just shrug off.

      This was the second time in just a couple of weeks that they’d met, and his earlier concerns about Rebecca Normén hadn’t exactly decreased. As far as he understood it, she had once again acted in an irreproachable manner, but this time she didn’t seem anywhere near as composed.

      In contrast to their previous conversation, this time she sounded mostly like a robot, as though she were on autopilot. That wasn’t a good sign. If he couldn’t get her to open up and let go of some of her feelings now, things would look very different and his report would be considerably easier to write. He’d seen tougher officers than her snap as a result of unprocessed experiences, and he had no desire to add Rebecca’s name to that tragic list.

      ‘But you do have someone you can talk to if you need to? Sometimes it can take a few days after an experience like this, then suddenly a whole load of things come bubbling up. You can have my number, of course, but it’s important to be able to talk to other people, above all family and friends,’ he went on.

      She nodded mutely.

      ‘But you don’t have any problems on that front?’

      He looked at her again over the rim of his glasses.

      She took a deep breath and made an effort to sound composed.

      ‘No, I don’t.’

      Anderberg nodded and leafed through his notes again.

      ‘You’ve got a Henrik Pettersson listed as your closest relative. Is that your partner?’

      She was on the point of jumping out of her chair! Anderberg wasn’t stupid, that much was clear.

      A bit of harmless chat and then bang, straight to her weak point. Evidently her usual defence wasn’t working, so she had to choose her words carefully …

      Another deep breath. Careful now, Normén!

      ‘Henrik’s my brother. Normén was Mum’s maiden name, I took it after …’ She bit her lip involuntarily.

      ‘… she passed away,’ she concluded, with what she hoped was a sad smile.

      The psychologist nodded.

      ‘So you’re close to your brother?’

      ‘Not any more,’ slipped out of her mouth.

      Shit, the lack of sleep and headache were taking their toll, and Anderberg wasn’t just anyone. Today it was unusually difficult to keep her guard up, mainly because in her mind she was already knocking on Henrik’s door. She had to regroup and try a new tactic.

      ‘Do you feel like talking about it?’

      Anderberg had evidently caught a scent of something. She had to tread carefully now.

      She shrugged to give herself a couple more seconds to think. What the hell could she say?

      No, dear shrink, I don’t feel like telling you about my useless petty criminal little brother who doesn’t give a shit about anything and wrecks everything he touches, but to whom I’m going to be in debt for the rest of my life.

      ‘Things were pretty tough when we were growing up,’ she said instead, hoping that a few serious but now harmless confidences would throw him off track.

      Anderberg nodded encouragingly, evidently interested.

      ‘Well, to start with it was mainly Dad, I suppose. But after a while he dragged Mum down with him, you could say. Especially after she got ill.’

      She took a deep breath before going on.

      ‘Dad was pretty unusual. He was quite a bit older than Mum when they got married. It was his flat and he already had his set routines. Everything had to be exactly the way he wanted, down to the smallest detail, and Dad would get furious about the tiniest things. A set of keys in the wrong place or a mark on the bathroom mirror were enough to set him off. When he was home the rest of us had to tiptoe around so as not to make him angry or upset,’ she said. ‘Henke, my little brother, is three years younger than me. When things were bad at least we had each other. I used to protect him, comfort him, and take him out so that things could calm down. I suppose you could say we provided each other with a bit of stability.’

      She smiled unconsciously.

      ‘I used to take him with me whenever I could, I didn’t want him to be left at home alone with Dad. You never knew what might happen, and if anything did happen, for some reason my little brother would always get the blame, maybe because he was smallest and weakest. Dad didn’t exactly hold back, especially not after a few drinks, and even if Mum did her best she never really dared to stand up to him and take our side when there was trouble. She probably had to deal with enough of his moods as it was … But Dad never laid a finger on me, on the other hand. I was safe, somehow, men of his generation didn’t hit little girls, so maybe that’s why I started trying to protect Henke?’ She shrugged her shoulders and caught Anderberg’s nod of encouragement.

      He had evidently taken the bait. But to her surprise she also discovered that she didn’t have any problem going on …

      ‘Henke was very patient, always tagging along, never complaining, even if he mostly had to play girls’ games. Sometimes he got to be the doll while I and the other girls in the block dressed him up. Mummy, Daddy, baby and all that … All the stuff we weren’t getting at home.’

      She smiled again and looked down at her lap thoughtfully.

      The psychologist didn’t push her; actually he was looking quite pleased.

      It was ironic really, that everything she had tried to hide so far had turned into the perfect smokescreen now. A new line of defence now that the old one seemed to have crumbled. She hadn’t talked about this for … well, it must be thirteen years now, and it felt pretty good to let it out.

      A quick glance at the time, twenty-five minutes done. Now she just had to round this off and catch the southbound underground train. Get back into the saddle.

      ‘But you’ve had less contact since you grew