The Ice Child

Chapter Nine

‘My God, what a spectacle that must have been,’ said Anna with a laugh when she heard about Mellberg, who had eventually thawed out enough to go back to the station with Patrik. She was peering with interest at Gunnar, whom Erica had described in detail over the phone. Anna had taken an instant liking to the man when he greeted them in the front hall and took the time to say hello to the children first. Adrian was now enthusiastically helping him to hang up a painting in the kitchen.

‘But how are they doing?’ she asked in a more serious tone of voice. ‘This whole situation with Lasse is so awful. Do the police know what might have happened?’

‘It was only a short time ago that they found him. Or rather, not him, but his car and what looks like a murder scene. The divers are on their way over here. But it’s doubtful they’ll be able to find his body. It might have been washed out to sea.’

‘I’ve seen Tyra occasionally when I’ve dropped off the girls at the stable. Such a sweet girl. Terese seems nice too. I’ve only said hello to her a few times. I feel so sorry for both of them.’

Anna glanced at the plate of cinnamon buns that Kristina had set on the kitchen table, but she wasn’t tempted to have any.

‘Are you getting enough to eat?’ asked Erica, giving her a stern look. During their childhood she had been more of a mother than a big sister for Anna, and she still had a hard time relinquishing that role. But Anna had stopped fighting it. Without Erica’s care and concern she would never have made it through all the difficult times in her life. Her beloved older sister was always willing to help, whatever the situation. And lately it was only at Erica’s house that Anna was able to find a way to relax and forget her feelings of guilt.

‘You look pale,’ Erica went on, and Anna forced herself to smile.

‘I’m okay. I’ve been feeling a bit under the weather lately, that’s all. I know it’s probably psychosomatic, but I just don’t have much of an appetite.’

Kristina was standing at the worktop, cleaning up even though Erica had told her several times to leave it be and sit down. Now she turned around to study Anna’s face.

‘Erica’s right. You do look pale. You need to eat and take better care of yourself. In times of crisis it’s especially important to eat and sleep well. Do you have any sleeping tablets? If not, I can give you some of mine. It goes without saying that if you don’t get enough sleep, you can’t do anything else properly.’

‘Thanks, I appreciate the offer, but I’m not having any trouble sleeping.’

That was a lie. Most nights Anna tossed and turned in bed, staring at the ceiling and trying to push away the encroaching memories. But she didn’t want to get stuck in the quagmire of taking pills. She didn’t want to resort to chemical means to assuage the anxiety that she had brought upon herself. Maybe there was also a certain amount of masochism in this decision, a desire to atone for her sins.

‘I don’t know if I believe you, but I’m not going to nag,’ said Erica, even though Anna knew that was precisely what her sister would proceed to do. To placate her, she reached for a bun. Erica also took one.

‘Eat up. You need an extra layer of fat in the wintertime,’ said Anna.

‘Very funny,’ said Erica, pretending to throw the bun at her sister.

‘Good Lord, you two are hopeless.’ Kristina sighed and turned away, having decided to clean the fridge. Erica was about to stop her but then realized it was a battle she couldn’t win.

‘So how’s it going with your book?’ asked Anna, trying to swallow a bite of cinnamon bun that just seemed to swell the more she chewed.

‘I’m not sure. There are so many strange aspects, and I hardly know where to begin.’

‘Why don’t you tell me about it?’ replied Anna, taking a sip of coffee. Then she listened wide-eyed as Erica recounted what she’d learned over the past few days.

‘It seems like Laila’s story is somehow connected to the missing girls. Why else would she save all those newspaper clippings? And why did she decide to meet with me on the same day that the papers reported on Victoria’s disappearance?’

‘So you don’t think that was a coincidence?’ asked Anna, though she knew what the answer would be.

‘No. I’m convinced there’s some sort of connection. Laila knows something that she doesn’t want to tell anyone. Or maybe she does, but for some reason she can’t. That was probably why she agreed to see me, so she’d have someone to confide in. But so far I haven’t been able to make her feel comfortable enough to tell me what it’s about.’ Erica looked frustrated as she ran her hand through her hair.

‘Ugh. It’s a miracle that some of the things in here haven’t crawled out on their own,’ said Kristina with her head stuck inside the fridge. Erica gave Anna a look that said she refused to be provoked. She chose to ignore the ongoing efforts of her mother-in-law.

‘Maybe you need to find out more information,’ suggested Anna. She had given up eating any more of the cinnamon bun as she finished her coffee.

‘I know, but as long as Laila keeps silent, that’s almost impossible. Everyone else involved is gone now. Louise is dead, and so is Laila’s mother. Peter disappeared and is most likely dead too. Laila’s sister doesn’t seem to know anything. There’s really nobody left for me to talk to, since everything happened inside those four walls of their home.’

‘How did Louise die?’

‘She drowned. She and another girl were both living with the same foster family, and one day they went swimming and never came home. Their clothes were found on a rock, but their bodies were never found.’

‘Have you talked to the foster parents?’ asked Kristina from behind the fridge door. Erica gave a start.

‘No. I didn’t even think of that. They had nothing to do with what happened to the Kowalski family.’

‘But maybe Louise confided in them, or maybe she talked to the other foster children.’

‘Hmm…’ said Erica. She was feeling a little foolish because her mother-in-law had pointed out something that was so obvious.

‘I think Kristina’s suggestion is great,’ Anna said hastily. ‘Where does the family live?’

‘In Hamburgsund. I suppose I really ought to drive over there.’

‘Gunnar and I can stay with the children. Why don’t you go now?’ said Kristina.

Anna added her support. ‘I’ll stick around here for a while too. The kids are having so much fun together, and there’s no reason why I have to rush home.’

‘Are you sure?’ said Erica, already on her feet. ‘But it’s probably best if I phone them first, to find out if it’s okay for me to drop by.’

‘Go on,’ said Anna, waving her hand. ‘I’m sure I’ll find something to keep me busy here. This place is such a mess.’

Erica gave her the finger in response.

Patrik stood in front of the whiteboard in the kitchen. There were far too many loose ends, and he felt compelled to make a list of everything that needed to be done. He wanted to be prepared when he arrived at the meeting in Göteborg tomorrow. And while he was away, his colleagues needed to continue investigating Lasse’s probable death. Feeling stressed, he reminded himself to relax his shoulders and take a few deep breaths. He’d had a health scare a couple of years back when his body rebelled and he fell apart. That had been a wake-up call for him. Sooner or later his energy might drain away even though he loved his job.

‘We’re now dealing with two investigations,’ he said. ‘Let’s start with Lasse.’ He wrote Lasse’s name in big letters on the board and drew a line underneath.

‘I’ve talked to Torbjörn, and he’s done the best he could,’ said Martin.

‘Right. Well, we’ll have to see what he’s able to find out.’ Patrik had a hard time restraining his anger when he thought about the way Mellberg had destroyed the crime scene. Thank goodness he’d gone home now, so at least he wouldn’t be able to sabotage the investigation any further today.

‘We have Terese’s permission to take a blood sample from their older son. As soon as that’s done, it will be compared with the blood taken from the dock,’ Martin added.

‘Good. We can’t say for sure that it’s Lasse’s blood we found, but for now I suggest we assume that Lasse fought for his life out there on the dock.’

‘I agree,’ said Gösta.

Patrik looked at his other colleagues and they nodded.

‘I asked Torbjörn to go over Lasse’s car as well,’ said Martin. ‘In case Lasse and the murderer arrived there together. The techs also secured a number of tyre tracks in the car park. We might need them to make a match if we’re able to prove that someone had driven over there.’

‘Good idea,’ said Patrik. ‘We haven’t yet got reports on Lasse’s mobile usage, but we’ve had more luck with the bank. Isn’t that right, Gösta?’

Gösta cleared his throat.

‘Yes. Annika and I have gone over Lasse’s bank statements, and he was making regular deposits of five thousand Swedish kronor each time. When I went to see Terese, she told me that her daughter Tyra had found a secret hiding place where Lasse had stowed away five thousand kronor in cash on several occasions. My guess is that he kept the money hidden until he had a chance to go to the bank.’

‘Did Terese have any idea where the money came from?’ asked Martin.

‘No. And I believe her.’

‘She sensed that Lasse wasn’t telling her about something, so maybe that’s what it was,’ said Patrik. ‘We need to find out where the money came from and what the payments were for.’

‘Since the amount was always the same, could we be talking about blackmail?’ asked Paula from her position standing in the doorway. Annika had asked her to join them at the table, but she’d said she needed to be able to dash out and answer her mobile if Rita phoned about Lisa.

‘What are you thinking?’ said Gösta.

‘Well, if the money was from gambling, for instance, the amounts would be different each time. The same would be true if he was being paid for odd jobs, since he’d probably get an hourly wage, which wouldn’t have generated the same amount every time. But if we’re talking about blackmail, it would be reasonable for him to receive a specific amount at regular intervals.’

‘I think Paula is right,’ said Gösta. ‘Maybe Lasse was blackmailing someone who finally got tired of it all.’

‘In that case, the question is: what was the reason for the blackmail? His family doesn’t seem to know anything, so we need to expand our search and talk to Lasse’s circle of friends. We have to find out if anybody knows anything…’ Patrik paused before adding, ‘Let’s talk to everyone who lives in the surrounding area, and that mostly means my neighbours. Knock on the doors of all the houses on the road to Sälvik. Find out if anyone saw a car driving towards the beach. There’s not a lot of traffic this time of year, but there are plenty of nosy people watching from behind the curtains.’

He wrote down the tasks on the whiteboard. He’d hand out the assignments later. Right now he just wanted to put together a list of everything that needed to get done.

‘Okay, now let’s consider Victoria’s case. Tomorrow is the big meeting in Göteborg with all the police departments involved. Thanks, Annika, for making the arrangements.’

‘No problem. It wasn’t difficult. Everyone was very positive about the idea, and they seemed surprised that they hadn’t thought of having this kind of meeting earlier.’

‘Better late than never. So what are the latest developments?’

‘The most interesting,’ said Gösta, ‘is probably the fact that Victoria’s brother claims she was having an affair with Jonas Persson.’

‘Have we found anyone else who could confirm Ricky’s suspicions?’ asked Martin. ‘And what does Jonas have to say?’

‘No, not yet. And Jonas denies it, of course. But I don’t think he’s telling the truth. I thought I’d have a talk with some of the girls at the stable. It would be hard to keep that sort of relationship secret.’

‘Did you talk to his wife too?’ asked Patrik.

‘I’d prefer not to say anything to Marta until we know more. I don’t want to cause any trouble if it turns out not to be true.’

‘All right. That’s fine. But sooner or later we’re going to have to talk to her too.’

Paula cleared her throat. ‘Sorry, but I don’t understand why this would have anything to do with the case. We’re looking for someone who kidnapped girls in other parts of Sweden too. Not just here in Fjällbacka.’

‘True,’ said Patrik. ‘But if Jonas hadn’t had an alibi for the time when Victoria disappeared, why couldn’t he be the perpetrator, just as well as anybody else? Maybe it will turn out that Jonas wasn’t the one she was having an affair with. Maybe it was someone else, and that person also kidnapped her. Basically we need to work out how Victoria came in contact with the kidnapper. And what was it in her life that made her vulnerable? It could be anything. We know now that someone was watching her family’s house. If it was the perpetrator, he may have had her under surveillance for quite a while, which means he could have done the same thing with the other girls. Anything in Victoria’s personal life could be significant in terms of why she was chosen.’

‘She had also received anonymous letters that were far from pleasant,’ said Gösta, turning to Paula. ‘Ricky found them, but unfortunately he threw them out. He was worried his parents might see them.’

‘Okay, I get it now,’ she said. ‘That sounds reasonable.’

‘Have we had word from the lab about the cigarette butt?’ asked Martin.

‘Nothing yet,’ said Patrik. ‘And it won’t be of any interest until we have something to compare it to. What else?’ he said, looking around at his colleagues. It seemed like there were more and more question marks.

He fixed his gaze on Paula, suddenly remembering that she and Martin had said they’d found something to report. He could see that Martin was eager to speak, so he nodded at him.

‘Well,’ said Martin, ‘Paula and I have both felt there was something familiar about Victoria’s injuries, especially the fact that her tongue had been cut out.’

‘So that’s why you’ve been spending all that time in the archives,’ said Patrik. His curiosity increased when he saw Paula’s cheeks flush bright red.

‘Yes,’ she told him. ‘Except I was on the wrong track. What I was looking for was not in the archives, but I knew I’d seen it somewhere.’ She came forward to stand next to Patrik so everyone could see her.

‘And you thought it was in a report from an old case?’ said Patrik, hoping that she’d quickly get to the point.

‘Exactly. But I was in Martin’s office, looking at his books, when it suddenly came to me. I remembered reading about the case in Nordic Crime Chronicles.’

Patrik felt his pulse quicken. ‘Go on,’ he said.

‘Twenty-seven years ago, on a Saturday evening in May, a young and newly married woman named Ingela Eriksson disappeared from her home in Hultsfred. She was only nineteen, and her husband immediately came under suspicion because he’d previously been charged with beating up both Ingela and his former girlfriends. There was an intensive police investigation, and her disappearance got a lot of coverage in the media since at that time the evening papers happened to be publishing a lot of articles about domestic violence. Then Ingela was found dead in a wooded area behind her home, and that was the nail in the coffin for her husband. The ME determined that she’d been dead for some time, but her body was intact enough to conclude that she’d been subjected to horrific torture. Her husband was found guilty of homicide, but he continued to maintain his innocence until he died in prison five years later. He was killed by a fellow prisoner in a fight over a gambling debt.’

‘So what’s the connection?’ asked Patrik, though he had an idea what she was going to say.

Paula opened the book she was holding and pointed to the passage describing Ingela’s injuries. Patrik silently read what it said on the page. Her injuries were exactly the same as Victoria’s, down to the smallest detail.

‘What does it say?’ Gösta took the book from Paula and swiftly read the passage. ‘Bloody hell.’

‘You can say that again,’ Patrik remarked. ‘It seems we’re dealing with a perpetrator who has been active much longer than we first thought.’

‘Or he’s a copycat killer,’ said Martin.

After that no one said a word.

Helga glanced at Jonas, who was sitting at the kitchen table. Upstairs she could hear Einar grunting and moving about in bed.

‘What did the police want?’

‘Gösta just wanted to ask me about something,’ said Jonas, rubbing his face.

She could feel the knot forming in her stomach. Her uneasiness had slowly grown over the past few months, and her anxiety was now so great that she was practically suffocating.

‘What about?’ she insisted, sitting down across from him.

‘Nothing special. Just something about the break-in.’

She felt hurt by the sharpness of his tone. He didn’t usually snap at her like that. Even though they had an unspoken agreement not to discuss certain topics, he’d never used that tone of voice with her before. She looked down at her hands. They were gnarled and wrinkled, with brown spots on top. The hands of an old woman, like her mother’s hands. When had they started looking like this? She’d never thought about it until now, as she sat here at the kitchen table while the world she had so carefully constructed was slowly collapsing around her. She couldn’t let that happen.

‘How’s Molly?’ she asked instead. She had a hard time hiding her disapproval. Jonas refused to allow the slightest criticism of his daughter, but sometimes Helga wanted to shake the spoiled girl, to make her understand how lucky she was, how privileged.

‘She’s okay now,’ said Jonas, and his face lit up.

Helga felt a pang in her heart. She knew she had no right to be jealous of Molly, but she still wished she would see the same love in Jonas’s eyes when he looked at her as when he looked at his daughter.

‘We’re going to the jump racing next Saturday.’ He avoided meeting her eye.

‘Do you have to?’ she said, hearing the entreaty in her voice.

‘Marta and I have agreed.’

‘It’s always Marta this and Marta that. I wish the two of you had never met. You should have stayed with Terese. She was such a nice girl. And then everything would have been different!’

Jonas gave her a stunned look. He’d never heard her raise her voice before, at least not since he was a child.

She knew she should have kept quiet. She should have carried on in the same way as always, the way that had made it possible for her to survive all these years, but it felt like some strange force had seized hold of her.

‘She has destroyed your life! She weaselled her way into our family, and she’s been like a parasite living off of you, off all of us, she’s-’

Smack! The slap silenced her at once. In shock, Helga raised her hand to her cheek, which stung badly. Her eyes filled with tears, and not just because of the pain. She knew that she’d stepped over a line, and now there was no turning back.

Without looking at her, Jonas left the kitchen. When she heard the front door slam, Helga knew she could no longer afford to look on in silence. That time was past.

‘Let’s get with it, girls!’ The annoyance that was audible in her voice spread through the riding school. All the girls were feeling tense, and that was exactly what Marta intended. Without a certain amount of fear, they’d never learn anything.

‘What are you doing, Tindra?’ She glared at the blond-haired girl who was struggling to get her horse to jump over one of the hurdles.

‘Fanta is refusing to jump. She keeps balking.’

‘You’re the one in charge. Not the horse. Don’t forget that.’

Marta wondered how many times she’d repeated those words. She shifted her gaze to Molly, who was in full control of Scirocco. Things were looking good for the competition. In spite of everything, the girls were well prepared.

At that moment Fanta refused for the third time, and Marta began to lose patience.

‘I don’t know what’s wrong with all of you today. Either you start focusing, or this lesson is over.’ She noticed with satisfaction the dismay on the girls’ faces. They slowed, turned their horses towards the centre, and brought them to a halt in front of Marta.

One of the girls cleared her throat. ‘We apologize. But we heard about Tyra’s father… or rather, her stepfather.’

So that was the explanation for the group’s nervous mood. She should have thought of that, but whenever she entered the stable, she forgot about the world outside. It was as if all thoughts, all memories were swept away. What remained was the smell and sound of the horses, and the respect they showed towards her. It was so much greater than the respect she ever got from people in general. And from the girls, in particular.

‘What happened is awful. I can understand that you’re feeling sorry for Tyra, but that sort of emotion has no place here. If you can’t stop thinking about it, if you allow yourselves to be affected by anything other than what’s taking place right here, then you might as well dismount and go home.’

‘I have no trouble focusing. Did you see me take that high hurdle?’ said Molly.

The other girls couldn’t help rolling their eyes. Marta knew that her daughter lacked any sense for what should be said or even thought in certain situations. And that seemed strange. Personally, she had always been a master of the art. Words once spoken could never be taken back, a wrong impression could never be repaired. She didn’t understand how Molly could be so tactless.

‘So do you expect me to give you a medal, or something?’ she said now.

Molly crumpled, and Marta saw that the other girls couldn’t hide their glee. This was exactly what she’d intended. Molly would never be a real winner if she didn’t have a desire for revenge. That was something Jonas didn’t understand. He treated Molly with kid gloves, spoiling her and ruining her chances of ever becoming a true survivor.

‘Molly, I want you to trade horses with Tindra. Then we’ll see if things go as well for you, or maybe it was all the horse’s doing.’

Molly looked like she wanted to protest, but she stopped herself. No doubt the cancelled competition was still fresh in her mind, and she didn’t want to miss a chance to compete in the next one. For now, in spite of everything, it was her parents who decided, and she was well aware of that.

‘Marta?’ She turned around when she heard Jonas calling from the stands. He waved for her to come over, and his expression told her it was urgent.

‘Keep going, girls. I’ll be right back,’ she said over her shoulder as she climbed up to where her husband was standing.

‘There’s something we need to talk about.’ He was rubbing the fingers of his right hand.

‘Can’t it wait? I’m in the middle of a lesson,’ she said, even though she could tell what his answer would be.

‘No,’ he replied. ‘We need to talk now.’

As they left the riding hall, she could hear the sound of the horses behind her.

Erica pulled into a parking spot in front of the café in Hamburgsund. It was a beautiful drive from Fjällbacka, and she had enjoyed the brief period of peace and quiet in the car. When she’d called to explain her visit, the Wallanders had hesitated at first. They conferred with each other as Erica waited on the phone, listening to their murmured conversation. In the end they had agreed to meet with her, but not at their home. They preferred to meet at a café in town.

She saw them as soon as she got out of her car and hastily approached their table. They stood up to greet her, looking a bit embarrassed. Tony, the man of the family, was tall and muscular with big tattoos on his forearms. He wore a checked shirt and blue work trousers. His wife Berit was much shorter, but her petite body looked sinewy and strong, and her face was weather-beaten.

‘Oh, did you already get coffee for yourselves? I was planning to treat you,’ said Erica, looking at the cups on the table. On a plate were two half-eaten almond pastries.

‘We got here a little early,’ said Tony. ‘And we wouldn’t think of letting you treat us.’

‘But you must want coffee yourself. We’ll wait while you get a cup,’ said Berit.

Erica instinctively liked them. Down-to-earth: that was the first phrase that popped into her head to describe the couple. She went over to the counter to get coffee and a piece of pastry. Then she went back to the table to join them.

‘Why did you prefer to meet here, if you don’t mind me asking? I could have driven over to your house, and that would have saved you the trouble of coming into town,’ she said. She took a bite of the pastry, which tasted delightfully fresh.

‘Oh, we didn’t think that would be appropriate,’ said Berit, fixing her eyes on the table. ‘Our house is so messy and cluttered. Not somewhere we’d invite someone like you.’

‘But you really shouldn’t feel that way,’ said Erica. Now it was her turn to be embarrassed. She hated being treated differently, or as somebody more important, just because she occasionally appeared on TV or in the newspapers.

‘What did you want to ask us? What do you want to know about Louise?’ said Tony, offering her a way out of the awkward situation.

Erica gave him a grateful look and took a sip of the strong coffee before replying.

‘Well, first of all, I was wondering how you happened to take Louise in as a foster child. Her brother was sent to live with their maternal grandmother.’

Berit and Tony exchanged a glance, as if to work out who should answer the question. Berit was the one who spoke.

‘We never learned exactly why the grandmother didn’t take both children. Maybe she thought she could handle only one. Louise was also in much worse shape than her brother. At any rate, the authorities told us that a seven-year-old girl was in urgent need of a new home after going through a traumatic situation. She came to us from the hospital, and later the social worker told us more about the circumstances.’

‘How was Louise doing when she came to you?’

Tony clasped his hands on the table and leaned forward. He fixed his gaze on a spot behind Erica as he thought back to the year when Louise had come to live with them.

‘She was terribly emaciated, with bruises and cuts all over her body. But they’d cleaned her up at the hospital and cut her hair, so she didn’t look as wild as in the pictures they’d taken of her.’

‘She was so sweet. Really sweet,’ said Berit.

Tony nodded. ‘Yes, there was no doubt about that. But she needed to put on weight and she needed to heal, in terms of both body and soul.’

‘How did she behave?’

‘She was very quiet. We hardly heard a word out of her for months. She just sat and watched us.’

‘She didn’t say anything?’ Erica wondered if she should be taking notes, but she decided just to listen attentively and write it all down later. Sometimes she missed the nuances if she tried to take notes and listen at the same time.

‘Well, yes, she did speak. But mostly one word at a time. Thanks. Thirsty. Tired. Things like that.’

‘But she did talk to Tess,’ Berit added.

‘Tess? The other girl who lived with you?’

‘Yes. Tess and Louise became good friends right from the start,’ said Tony. ‘We could hear them at night as they lay in bed and talked. So I assume it was just us she refused to talk to. Louise never did anything she didn’t want to do.’

‘What do you mean? Was she rebellious?’

‘Hmm… No, she was actually very quiet.’ Tony scratched his bald head. ‘I don’t really know how to describe it.’ He turned to Berit for help.

‘She never talked back, but if you asked her to do something she didn’t want to do, she would simply walk away. And it made no difference if you yelled at her. The words rolled right off of her. Plus it was hard to be as strict as we maybe should have been because we knew Louise had gone through so much.’

‘Our hearts bled for her,’ said Tony, his expression darkening. ‘How could anyone treat a child that way?’

‘Did she get more talkative later on? Did she say anything about her parents and what happened?’

‘Eventually she did start talking more,’ said Berit. ‘But I can’t say she ever got to be talkative. And she rarely spoke about herself. She would answer questions, but she avoided looking anyone in the eye, and she never confided in us. She may have told Tess something about what she’d been through. That seems likely. It was as if those two were in their own world.’

‘What sort of background did Tess have? Why was she sent to live with you?’ Erica ate the last bite of her pastry.

‘She was orphaned after a miserable childhood,’ said Tony. ‘Her father was never in the picture, as far as we know, and her mother was a drug addict who died from an overdose. Tess came to us right before Louise did. They were the same age and looked almost like sisters. We were so happy that they had each other. They helped out a lot with the animals, and we needed all the help we could get. We had a couple of bad years with sick animals and things going wrong on the farm. Two extra pairs of hands were worth gold, and both Berit and I believe that work is a good way to heal the soul.’ He reached out to squeeze his wife’s hand. They exchanged a quick smile.

It warmed Erica’s heart to see how strong their love was even though they’d lived together for so long. That was what she wanted in her marriage with Patrik, and she thought there was a good chance their love would remain equally strong as the years passed.

‘They played a lot together too,’ Berit added.

‘Oh, right. They were always playing circus,’ said Tony, his eyes shining at the memory. ‘That was their favourite game. Playing circus. Louise’s father had once been part of a circus, and his stories must have sparked her imagination. They made a little circus ring out in the barn and did all sorts of tricks. Once I found a rope that they’d strung from the loft, and those crazy girls were planning to use it as a tightrope. They’d put hay underneath, but they could have hurt themselves badly, so we had to put a stop to that. Do you remember when the girls wanted to be tightrope artists?’

‘Yes. Those two could certainly get into mischief sometimes. And the animals were very important to them. I remember when one of our cows was sick. They sat up all night with her until she died at dawn.’

‘And they never caused you any problems?’

‘No, not those two. We had other foster children who came and went. And we had a lot more trouble with some of them. But Tess and Louise looked out for each other. Sometimes I thought they distanced themselves from reality a little too much. We never felt that we really reached them. But they seemed to be doing fine. They even slept together. If I looked in on them at night, I’d find them lying in bed face to face with their arms around each other.’ Berit smiled.

‘Did Louise’s grandmother ever come to visit her?’

‘Once. I think Louise was about ten at the time.’ She glanced at her husband, who nodded.

‘How did it go? What happened?’ asked Erica.

‘It was…’ Berit again glanced at Tony, who shrugged and then took over.

‘Nothing special happened. They sat in our kitchen, and Louise didn’t say a word. Her grandmother didn’t say much either. Mostly they just stared at each other. I seem to remember that Tess hovered outside the kitchen door, sulking. Louise’s grandmother wanted to visit with Louise alone, but I insisted on being present, and she reluctantly agreed. By that time Louise had been living with us for three years. We were responsible for her, and I had no idea how she would react when her grandmother suddenly turned up. Her visit could have summoned up bad memories for the girl, but that didn’t seem to happen. Both of them just sat there. To be honest, I don’t know why she came.’

‘Peter didn’t come with her?’

‘Peter?’ said Tony. ‘You mean Louise’s little brother? No, her grandmother came alone.’

‘What about Laila? Did she ever try to get in touch with Louise?’

‘No,’ said Berit. ‘We never heard a peep from her. I had a hard time understanding it. How could she be so cold-hearted and not even wonder how her daughter was doing?’

‘Did Louise ask about her mother?’

‘No, never. As we said, she never talked about her old life, and we never pressured her to do so. We were in constant contact with a child psychologist who recommended that we should let her decide if and when she wanted to talk about things. But of course we did ask her a number of questions. We wanted to make sure she was doing all right.’

Erica nodded, wrapping her fingers around her coffee cup to warm them up. Every time the door to the café opened, an icy gust of wind swept over her.

‘So what happened on the day they disappeared?’ she asked cautiously.

‘Are you cold? You can have my coat, if you like,’ said Berit.

Her concern made Erica realize why this couple had opened their home to so many foster children over the years. They both seemed to be tremendously kind and thoughtful.

‘No, thanks. I’m fine,’ said Erica. ‘But do you feel like you could tell me what happened that day?’

‘It’s so many years ago now, so it’s okay,’ said Tony, but Erica saw a dark shadow pass over their faces as they recalled that fateful summer day. She had read about what happened in the police report, but it was a whole different matter to hear about it from people who had actually been there.

‘It was a Wednesday in July. Not that it’s important what day of the week it was, but…’ Tony’s voice broke, and Berit gently placed her hand on his arm. He cleared his throat and went on.

‘The girls said they wanted to go swimming. We weren’t the least bit worried, because they often went off on their own. Sometimes they’d be gone all day, yet they always came home towards evening when they started to get hungry. But not on that day. We waited and waited, but the girls didn’t turn up. When it was close to eight o’clock, we realized that something must have happened, so we went out to look for them. When we didn’t find them, we rang the police. Not until the next morning were their clothes discovered out on the rocks.’

‘Did the police find their clothes, or did you?’

‘The police had organized a search party, and one of the volunteers found the clothes.’ Berit couldn’t hold back a sob.

‘They must have been pulled down by the strong undertow out there. Their bodies were never found. It was a terrible tragedy.’ Tony looked down. The event had clearly affected them deeply.

‘What happened after that?’ Erica’s heart ached at the thought of those two girls struggling in the water.

‘The police investigated and concluded that it was an accident. We… well, for a long time we blamed ourselves. But the girls were both fifteen years old, and they were used to looking out for themselves. Over the years we’ve come to realize that it wasn’t our fault. No one could have foreseen what happened. The two of them had lived long enough in confined circumstances, so we had allowed them to run free from the moment they came to stay with us.’

‘And that was wise,’ said Erica. She wondered whether the foster children who had lived with Berit and Tony knew how lucky they had been.

She stood up and held out her hand.

‘Thank you for taking the time to meet with me. I really appreciate it, and I’m sorry for stirring up difficult memories for you.’

‘You also brought back some nice memories,’ said Berit, shaking Erica’s hand warmly. ‘We’ve had the good fortune to take care of many children over the years, and all of them have left an impression. But Tess and Louise were special, and we’ve never forgotten them.’

It was so quiet. As if the void left by Victoria’s death had filled the whole house, as if it had filled all of them and was threatening to break them apart.

They made clumsy attempts to deal with their grief by trying to talk about Victoria, but in the midst of recounting a memory, the words would suddenly fade. How could life ever be the same?

Ricky knew it was only a matter of time before the police would pay them another visit. Gösta had already phoned to ask again whether they were certain they hadn’t seen any suspicious person in the neighbourhood in the days before Victoria disappeared. Clearly the police had some indication that somebody had been watching their house during that time. Ricky realized that they would also ask his parents if they knew anything about Victoria’s relationship with Jonas, or about the letters he’d found. That would actually be a relief for him. As he grieved for his sister, it had been a great burden to carry this secret alone, trying to keep his parents from learning about it.

‘Could you pass the potatoes?’ His father held out his hand without looking him in the eye. Ricky picked up the casserole dish and handed it to him.

That was the only sort of conversation they could manage now. Talking about ordinary, practical things.

‘Would you like some carrots?’ His mother handed Ricky the carrots. Her hand brushed against his as he took the dish, and she flinched as if she’d been burned. Their grief was so painful that they could hardly bear to touch each other.

He looked at his parents as they sat at the kitchen table across from him. His mother had cooked the dinner, but the food had been prepared without much thought, and it looked as lacklustre as it tasted. They ate in silence, each of them lost in thought. Soon the police would arrive and destroy the silence, and he knew that he should be the one to tell them first.

‘There’s something I need to tell you. About Victoria…’

His parents froze and stared at him, looking at him in a way they hadn’t done in a long time. His heart began hammering in his chest, and his mouth went dry, but he forced himself to go on. He told them about Jonas and the argument he’d witnessed at the stable, about Victoria running off, about the letters he’d found, about the ugly words and curses.

They listened attentively, and then his mother lowered her gaze. But not before Ricky caught a strange look in her eye. It took a moment before he understood what it meant.

His mother already knew.

‘So he didn’t kill his wife? Or did he?’ Rita frowned as she listened patiently to Paula.

‘He was convicted of murder, but he never stopped claiming he was innocent. I haven’t managed to locate anyone who worked on the case, but I’ve had some of the investigative materials faxed over to me, and I’ve read a number of newspaper articles. The evidence was purely circumstantial.’

Paula walked around the kitchen rocking Lisa in her arms as she talked. For now her daughter was quiet, but that would change at once if Paula stopped moving. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d sat down to eat a whole meal.

Johanna cast a glance in her direction, and Paula thought to herself that it really was her turn to carry Lisa around. There was no reason she should be considered more suited to the task simply because she’d given birth to the baby.

‘Sit down,’ Johanna reproached Leo, who stubbornly insisted on standing up in his high-chair between bites of food.

‘Good Lord, if we all followed your example we’d be as thin as rails,’ said Mellberg, giving Leo a wink.

Johanna sighed. ‘Please don’t encourage him, Bertil. It’s hard enough trying to teach him some manners.’

‘What difference does it make if the boy wants to get a little exercise between bites? We should all do that. Watch.’ Mellberg took a bite, stood up, sat down, and then did it again. Leo roared with laughter.

‘Can’t you do something?’ Johanna turned to Rita with a pleading expression on her face.

Paula could feel laughter bubbling inside of her. She knew that Johanna would be cross, but she couldn’t hold it in any longer. She laughed so hard the tears ran down her cheeks, and she thought Lisa actually smiled too. Rita couldn’t restrain herself either, and encouraged by the response of their audience, Leo and Mellberg began standing up and sitting down in unison.

‘What sins did I commit in some past life that made me end up with this bunch of lunatics?’ said Johanna with a sigh, but her lips twitched and she had to smile. ‘Okay, do whatever you like. I’ve already given up any hope of this kid growing up to be a responsible adult.’ Laughing, she leaned forward and kissed Leo on the cheek.

‘I want to hear more about the murder,’ said Rita when the raucous mood in the kitchen had subsided. ‘If there’s no proof, how could they convict him? In Sweden we don’t put people in prison for crimes they haven’t committed, do we?’

Paula smiled at her mother. Ever since they’d arrived from Chile in the seventies, Rita had put Sweden on such a high pedestal that the country didn’t always live up to her expectations. She had also adopted all its traditions and celebrated Swedish holidays with a frenzy that even staunchly patriotic Swedes would have considered a bit much. On all the other days she made specialities from her native country, but on Midsummer and other holidays there was hardly ever anything but herring in the fridge.

‘As I said, the evidence was circumstantial, so there were indications that he was guilty, but… How can I explain this?’

Mellberg cleared his throat. ‘Circumstantial evidence is a legal term for something that is less than factual but that may still lead to a suspect being either released or charged with a crime.’

Paula stared at him. He was the last person she’d expected to answer that question, and to do it so well.

‘Exactly. And in this case, we can say that the past behaviour of Ingela’s husband had an influence on his conviction. Former girlfriends as well as Ingela’s women friends all testified that he was often abusive. On several occasions he had beaten Ingela and even threatened to kill her. Since he had no alibi for the time of her disappearance, and since her body was found in the woods near their home, the case against him seemed clear.’

‘But now the police want to change their view?’ said Johanna as she wiped Leo’s mouth.

‘Maybe. It’s hard to say. But the injuries are very specific in both cases. And over the years there have been voices raised to defend Ingela’s husband, claiming that he was telling the truth. They’ve said that because the police were unwilling to investigate any other leads, a murderer was allowed to walk free.’

‘Is it possible that someone heard about this murder case and decided to do the same thing?’ asked Rita.

‘That’s precisely what Martin suggested during our meeting. It’s been almost thirty years since Ingela was murdered, so it’s more likely a copycat killer is at work, rather than the same person deciding to kill again.’ After a quick glance at Lisa, who was sound asleep, Paula sat down at the table. She would eat her dinner while holding her daughter in her arms.

‘At any rate, it’s worth taking a closer look at the old case,’ said Mellberg, helping himself to more food. ‘I was thinking of reading through the investigative materials tonight so I can bring it up at the meeting in Göteborg tomorrow.’

Paula repressed a sigh. Of course Mellberg would take all the credit for her discovery.

Patrik came in and looked around wide-eyed.

‘Did we have a cleaning crew here today? Oh, right, I forgot that Mamma and Mr Fix-it came over.’ He kissed Erica on the cheek. ‘Okay, let’s hear the damage report. How many things did he repair?’

‘You don’t want to know,’ she said and led the way to the kitchen where she was cooking dinner.

‘That bad, huh?’ With a sigh Patrik sat down at the table. The children rushed in and threw themselves at their father, wanting a hug. But the next instant they were gone because Bolibompa was on TV. ‘When did that green dragon get to be more popular than me?’ he said with a wry smile.

‘A long time ago,’ said Erica, leaning forward to kiss him on the lips. ‘But you’re still much more popular with me.’

‘More than Brad Pitt?’

‘Afraid not. You’ll never beat out Brad Pitt.’ She winked and opened a cupboard to take out some glasses. Patrik got up to help her set the table.

‘So how’s it going? Have you made any progress?’

He shook his head. ‘No, not yet. The technical reports take a while. The only thing we know is that someone has been paying Lasse five thousand kronor at regular intervals.’

‘Blackmail?’

Patrik nodded. ‘Yes, that’s the theory so far. We’re trying not to rule out anything, but the most likely explanation is that he was blackmailing someone who got tired of paying him. The question is, who? At the moment we have no idea.’

‘Are you ready for the meeting tomorrow?’ Erica was stirring something in a saucepan on the cooker top.

‘Yes, I think all of us are prepared. But Paula came up with a new theory today. There may be a connection to an old case from twenty-seven years ago. The victim was Ingela Eriksson. She was murdered in Hultsfred.’

‘The woman who was tortured and then killed by her husband?’ Erica turned around to stare at Patrik. ‘Why would that case be linked to your investigation?’

‘Oh, right. For a minute I forgot that you know so much about the history of Swedish crime. So do you recall how she was tortured?’

‘No. The only thing I remember is that he beat her and dumped her body in the woods near their home. So tell me what the connection is.’ She couldn’t hide the eagerness in her voice.

‘Ingela Eriksson suffered the exact same injuries as Victoria.’

For a moment neither of them spoke.

‘Are you kidding?’ Erica then said.

‘No, I’m afraid not.’ Patrik sniffed at the air. ‘What’s for dinner?’

‘Fish soup.’ Erica began ladling soup into the bowls on the table, but Patrik could tell her thoughts were elsewhere. ‘Either her husband was innocent and the same killer kidnapped the girls, or else you’re dealing with a copycat murderer. Or of course it could just be a coincidence.’

‘I don’t believe in coincidence,’ said Patrik.

Erica sat down at the table. ‘Neither do I. Are you going to mention this at the meeting tomorrow?’

‘Yes. I’ve brought home copies of the investigative materials. Even Mellberg said he was planning to read up on the case.’

‘So it’s the two of you who are going?’ She cautiously tasted the soup.

‘Yes. We need to leave very early in the morning. The meeting starts at ten o’clock.’

‘I hope it turns out to be productive.’ She studied his face for a moment. ‘You look tired. I know it’s important for you to solve this case, but you need to take care of yourself.’

‘I am. I know what my limits are. Apropos looking tired, how was Anna today?’

Erica paused before replying.

‘I honestly don’t know. I don’t feel like I’m connecting with her these days. She seems to be wallowing in guilt, and I don’t know how to bring her back to reality.’

‘Maybe that’s not your job,’ he said, but he knew his words would fall on deaf ears.

‘I’m going to have a talk with Dan,’ said Erica. Her tone of voice indicated that the discussion about Anna was now closed.

Patrik understood and didn’t ask any more questions. Erica was clearly worried about her sister, and he was ready to listen if she wanted to talk about it. Until that time, she would keep her thoughts to herself.

‘I think I need to see a crisis therapist.’ She served both of them more soup.

‘Really? Why? What did my mother say now?’

‘For once it has nothing to do with Kristina. And I’m not sure crisis therapy is going to be enough. I may need to have my memory erased too after seeing Mellberg almost naked this morning.’

Patrik couldn’t help himself. He let loose such a howl of laughter that he got fish soup up his nose.

‘I don’t think any of us will ever forget that sight. But we’re supposed to share both the good times and the bad. Just try not to picture him when we’re having sex.’

Erica gave her husband an astonished look.