The Widows’ Cafe: A Short Story Read Free Page A

Why hadn’t she decided sooner to do what had to be done? It turned out to be so easy.
    The only way she could forgive herself for not putting her foot down earlier was by passing her experience on. She knew how to do it. How easy it was. Rumours had quickly spread in the covert network that existed. The secret network that protected those women who had no other way out.
    And so they came to her. Not many, but a few. More than that police detective knew.
    They had all come to the Widows’ Café.
    Autumn leaves swirled past the windows. Business had been extraordinarily good all summer, with a steady stream of new customers. Now, on the verge of autumn, only the regular customers were left. Those who always chose the same tables, always ordered the same type of coffee and pastry. Those who thrived on familiar routines and settings, and who saw Marianne and her café as a refuge from their daily chores. This was the time of year that Marianne liked best. When the café was quiet and calm, and her guests had to speak in low voices unless they wanted everyone else to hear their conversations. When the sound of a teaspoon striking a china platter sounded like a gunshot and made all the other customers jump. The summer season was essential if the café was going to stay in business, but this was the time when she found peace of mind.
    Pling.
The bell over the door announced a new customer. Marianne was squatting down behind the counter taking inventory of the coffee on hand, so she had to stand up to see who had come in.
    ‘Hello.’
    With a stern nod, Detective Inspector Eva Wärn greeted Marianne.
    ‘Hello,’ replied Marianne, regarding the inspector and her companion with interest.
    This time she saw two police officers. Eva Wärn and a male colleague. Both were in uniform, both wore expressions that were equally grim.
    ‘How can I help the city authorities today?’ said Marianne with a smile.
    Eva Wärn cast a fleeting glance at her colleague.
    ‘You know what I want,’ he said brusquely. Then he went over to the table next to the window and sat down with his back to Marianne.
    The female inspector hesitantly approached the counter. She avoided looking Marianne in the eye. Instead, she studied the selection of cakes in the display case.
    ‘Are you on duty today?’ asked Marianne, but the officer didn’t answer. Eva Wärn continued to study the baked goods as if her life depended on choosing the right bun or pastry.
    ‘Two cinnamon rolls,’ she said at last, raising her eyes.
    ‘Cinnamon rolls it is,’ Marianne jovially replied as she placed two big buns sprinkled with sugar on two separate plates.
    ‘My husband would prefer the kind without the powdered sugar,’ said Eva Wärn, casting a hasty look over her shoulder at the man sitting near the window.
    Marianne didn’t say a word, merely raised an eyebrow as tiny scraps of information began whirling through her head. After exchanging the buns for ones with sliced almonds on top, she studied the woman more closely than she had before. That tired, worn-out look that she’d noticed the first time they met was still there. Along with something else. And now she couldn’t understand how she’d missed it before. What she saw in Eva Wärn’s face was … herself.
    Marianne placed her hand on the inspector’s and said in a gentle voice, ‘And what would you like to drink?’
    For a moment Eva Wärn didn’t speak as she stared at the hand resting on top of her own. Then she raised her eyes and said in a firm voice:
    ‘A caffe latte for me. And a Widow’s Special for my husband.’
    Marianne looked her in the eye for a long moment. Then she turned and began preparing the order.

Try the latest spine-tingling thriller in Camilla Lackberg’s Fjallbacka series …

    TRAGEDY RUNS IN THE FAMILY
    AND MURDER RUNS IN THE BLOOD …
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Also by Camilla Lackberg
    The Ice Princess
    The Preacher
    The Stonecutter
    The Stranger
(previously