The Cruel Stars of the Night - Kjell Eriksson [28]
Barbro had once called Jessica a slut. Laura had asked what she meant and Barbro had explained that the gesture with her hair was an invitation. She didn’t say anything else. An invitation. Laura looked at Jessica’s throat. It was shapely.
Jessica kept talking but Laura only looked at her with confusion and Jessica broke off.
“But here I am going on,” she said.
Stig put his arm around Jessica.
“You believe in Essen, don’t you?”
He smiled even more widely and squeezed her shoulders.
“If we get this, then the Dutch will come on board, too,” Jessica said. “Won’t they, Lennart?”
He shrugged.
“I don’t believe in your model for B-One,” Laura said.
Stig’s smile froze.
“But my dear, we’ve talked about that,” he said.
B1 was Jessica’s part of the project. Stig had also been critical in the beginning but had changed his mind. Now B1 was included in the offer, with exactly the presentation that Jessica had suggested.
“We talked it through while you were on sick leave,” Jessica said. “They’ll lap it up, you’ll see.”
And then came the head toss. Laura wanted to stab her pencil into Jessica’s throat, drive it in deep, and twist it.
“Maybe,” she said.
“Which we should celebrate,” Jessica continued with unperturbed enthusiasm, adding, “Torbjörnsson certainly won’t be.”
Torbjörnsson & Son Inc. were their greatest competitors. Jessica had worked there for four years before she joined the company. Most of them assumed there was a desire for revenge in her eagerness to land the Essen account. Apparently something had happened at her old workplace. No one knew what but there was talk of Jessica having had an affair with Torbjörnsson junior.
When you die we will celebrate even more, Laura thought and smiled at her colleague. She looked at the pencil in her hand. It was freshly sharpened. She looked at Jessica’s throat. Right there, in that hollow, is where I want to put it and let out all the poisoned blood.
“How are you, Laura?”
Stig bent down and looked at her.
“Everything is fine,” she said. “I’m fine.”
She tested the point of the pencil against her index finger.
Stig put his hand on her knee. She gave him a searching gaze as if to ensnare him in her sphere. He smiled unsurely and tried to take the pencil out of her hand.
“You might cut yourself,” he said.
“Perhaps you want a glass of water?” Jessica said and leaned over Laura. “You look pale.”
Laura held up the pencil with the point vibrating only a few centimeters from Jessica’s neck.
“You can hurt yourself,” she said and smiled. “Wouldn’t it be a pity to get blood on your pretty dress.”
Jessica straightened up and looked anxiously at Lennart. Stig’s smile had become a grimace.
“Would you like a ride home?”
Laura nodded. Stig got up, glanced swiftly at Jessica, and made a dismissive gesture with his head.
“I’m going home soon,” Jessica said, and turned to Stig. “The tile layer is coming at three. Dinner’s at six thirty.”
“Okay,” said Stig, and helped Laura to her feet.
“Do you have your car?”
Laura nodded again. She wanted to stay close to him, feel his hand under her arm, almost so it nudged her left breast.
“We can take two cars, but I want you to come home with me.”
Lennart stood up, gathered some papers together, and left.
Laura placed her hand on Stig’s shoulder. For a split second they stood there like a dance couple. Laura moistened her cracked lips with her tongue. Slowly, as if she was on the verge of losing consciousness, she leaned in toward Stig and rested her chin against his bristly beard.
“Help me, Stig,” she whispered into his ear.
The last time Stig Franklin had visited Laura Hindersten was a cold and clear morning, after several days of heavy snow. It was in February, they were on their way to a conference in Linköping and Stig was going to pick up Laura.
The sun had just risen over the City Forest and shone through the trees with a strong yet mild