The Fire Witness

7

The emergency center in Sundsvall is in a three-story redbrick building on Björneborgsgatan, next to Bäckgatan. Jasmin usually has no problem working nights, but at the moment she’s having trouble staying awake. It’s four in the morning and the witching hour has passed. She sits at her computer with her headset on, blowing on her coffee. Laughter pours out from the cafeteria. The evening newspaper reported that one of the center’s police officers might have earned extra cash as a phone sex worker. The reality is likely more complicated than that, but at this hour, nothing could be funnier than the idea that two very different kinds of calls have been coming into the emergency center.

Jasmin stares out the window. There is no light in the sky yet. A truck thunders past.

She puts down her mug to answer an incoming call.

“SOS 112. What’s going on?”

“My name is Daniel Grim and I’m a therapist at Birgittagården. One of the girls has just called me… You have to send someone to the home right away.”

“Can you give me more details?” Jasmin searches for Birgittagården on her computer.

“I don’t know anything. One of the girls called, but I didn’t really understand what she was saying. She was crying… Everybody was screaming in the background… The girl said there was blood everywhere.”

Jasmin signals to her colleague, Ingrid Sandén, that more operators are needed on this call.

“Are you at the scene now?” Ingrid asks as Jasmin tries to refine her search.

“I was home asleep when they called-”

“You are talking about Birgittagården north of Sunnås?” asks Jasmin.

“Hurry, please!” The man’s voice is shaking.

“We’re sending police and an ambulance to Birgittagården, north of Sunnås,” Jasmin says clearly to give the man time to correct her if she’s wrong.

She turns away for a moment to issue the alarm, and Ingrid picks up the questioning.

“Isn’t Birgittagården a youth home?”

“Yes, for girls.”

“Shouldn’t there be staff on the premises?”

“Yes, my wife, Elisabet, is on duty tonight. I’m going to call her now… I don’t know what’s happening… I know nothing…”

Ingrid can see blue lights flash across the deserted street as the first car pulls out of the garage. “The police are on their way,” she says in a calming voice.