The Ice Child

Chapter Eleven

It was snowing. As if hypnotized, Einar watched the flakes slowly drifting down. From downstairs he heard the usual sounds, which he’d heard day after day over the past years. Helga pottering about in the kitchen, the vacuum cleaner roaring, the clatter of plates being placed in the dishwasher. The endless cleaning which had consumed her whole life.

Good Lord, how he despised her. What a weak and wretched person she was. He had hated women all his life. First his mother, followed by all the others. His mother had loathed him from the very beginning. She had tried to clip his wings and prevent him from being himself. But she’d been laid to rest in the earth long ago.

His mother had died of a heart attack when he was twelve years old. He had watched her die, and that was one of his best memories. Like a treasure hidden away inside of him, it was a memory that he took out only on special occasions. Then he would recall every detail, as if a film were playing before his eyes: the way she had clutched at her chest, how her face had crumpled with pain and surprise, and how she’d slowly collapsed on the floor. He hadn’t called for help. Instead, he had knelt down beside her so he could memorize every expression. He fixed his eyes on her face as it froze, and then her skin grew more and more blue from lack of oxygen as her heart began to shut down.

In the past he’d felt sexually aroused whenever he thought about the pain she’d endured at that moment and the power he’d held over her life and death. Einar wished that he could feel the same way now, but his body refused him that pleasure. No memory that he conjured up could give him that amazing feeling of blood pumping into his groin. These days his only pleasure was tormenting Helga.

He took a deep breath. ‘Helga! Helgaaa!’

The sounds downstairs stopped. She was probably sighing, and he enjoyed that image. Then he heard her footsteps on the stairs and Helga came into the room.

‘The bag needs to be changed again.’ He had purposely opened it so it would leak before he called her. He knew that she knew. It was all part of the game, because no matter what he did, she had no choice. He should never have married someone who assumed she had options, or someone with her own will. Women should not think they could decide for themselves. Men were superior in all respects, and a woman’s only task was to give birth to children. But Helga had not been very good at that either.

‘I know you’re doing this deliberately,’ said Helga, as if reading his mind.

He just looked at her without replying. It didn’t matter what she thought because she still had to wipe up the mess.

‘Who was that on the phone earlier?’ he asked.

‘It was Jonas. He was asking about Molly and Marta.’ She unbuttoned his shirt, making no effort to be gentle.

‘Oh? Why’s that?’ he said, fighting back an urge to slap her.

He missed being able to control her with a show of strength, using wordless threats to make her lower her gaze, comply and submit. But he would never allow her to control him. His body may have betrayed him, but mentally he was still stronger than she was.

‘They weren’t over in the stable. Some of the girls were waiting outside because they had a lesson, but Molly and Marta hadn’t turned up.’

‘Is it really that difficult to run a business properly?’ said Einar, flinching when Helga pinched him. ‘What the hell are you doing?’

‘Sorry. I didn’t mean to do that,’ said Helga. Her voice lacked the submissive tone he was used to hearing, but he decided not to say anything. He was too tired today.

‘So where are they?’

‘How would I know?’ snapped Helga as she went into the bathroom to fetch some water.

He gave a start. It really wasn’t acceptable for her to speak to him that way.

‘When did Jonas last see them?’ Einar called, listening for her reply over the sound of water running into a basin.

‘Early this morning. They were still asleep when he left on an emergency call out at the Leandersson farm. But when they stopped by here later in the morning, they didn’t mention going anywhere. And the car is still parked in front of the house.’

‘So they must be around here somewhere.’ Einar watched Helga carefully as she came back from the bathroom carrying the basin of water and a rag. ‘Marta needs to understand that she can’t just skip lessons like this. She’ll lose her students, and then what are they going to live on? I don’t want to criticize Jonas’s veterinary practice, but it’s never going to make them rich.’ He closed his eyes, enjoying the warm water on his skin and glad to be clean again.

‘They’ll manage,’ said Helga, wringing out the rag.

‘Well, they shouldn’t think they can borrow money from us.’

His voice got louder at the thought of having to part with any of the money he had so laboriously saved, money that Helga knew nothing about. It had amounted to quite a sum over the years. He had been good at what he did, and he’d never had expensive tastes. The plan was for the money to benefit Jonas some day, but Einar was nervous that his son, in a fit of generosity, might give some of it to his mother. Jonas was like him, but he also had a weak side that he must have inherited from Helga. He wasn’t aware of it, and that worried Einar.

‘All clean now?’ he asked as she put another shirt on him and buttoned it with fingers that bore the marks of all the housework she did.

‘Yes. Until the next time you decide to amuse yourself by tearing open the bag.’

She stepped back to look at him, and he felt annoyance creeping over him. What was going on with her? It was as if she were examining an insect under a magnifying glass. Her eyes were coldly appraising as she stared at him. Worst of all, there was no sign of fear in her expression.

For the first time in many years Einar felt something he hated: uncertainty. He was at a disadvantage, and he knew that he had to re-establish his position of power over her immediately.

‘Tell Jonas to come here,’ he said as harshly as he could. But Helga did not reply. She just kept looking at him.

Molly was so cold that her teeth were chattering. Her eyes had grown accustomed to the dark, and she could make out Marta’s shadowy shape. She wanted to crawl over to her mother to get warm, but something held her back. It was the same thing that always held her back.

She knew that Marta didn’t love her. It was something she’d known for as long as she could remember, and in reality she hadn’t ever missed her love. How could she miss something that she’d never had? Besides, she’d always had Jonas. He was the one who brushed the grit from her legs when she fell off her bicycle, and the one who chased away the monsters from under her bed as he tucked her in at night. He had helped her with her homework, explaining everything about the planets and the solar system. He had been all-knowing and all-powerful.

Molly had never understood how Jonas could be so obsessed with Marta. Sometimes she’d seen her parents exchange glances at the kitchen table and then she’d noticed the hunger in her father’s eyes. What was it that he saw? What had he seen in her the first time they met? That time she’d heard about so often.

‘I’m freezing,’ she said now, turning to look at the motionless figure in the dark. Marta didn’t reply, and Molly began to sob. ‘What happened? Why are we here? Where are we?’

She couldn’t stop the questions from spilling out. They had piled up inside her head, and uncertainty was mixed with fear. She gave another yank on the chain. A sore spot had formed on her ankle, and she winced with pain.

‘Stop that. It won’t do any good,’ said Marta.

‘But we can’t just give up.’ Out of sheer stubbornness, Molly tugged on the chain again, only to feel pain shoot up through her leg.

‘Who says we’re giving up?’ said Marta quietly.

How could she be so calm? Her composure only served to scare Molly even more, and she felt panic seize hold of her.

‘HELP!’ she cried, and her scream bounced off the walls. ‘We’re in here! HELP!’

A deafening silence set in after her screams faded.

‘Cut that out. It’s not going to help,’ said Marta in the same icy calm voice.

Molly wanted to hit and scratch her. She wanted to pull her hair and kick her. Anything to provoke a reaction other than that ghastly calm.

‘Someone will come and help us,’ said Marta at last. ‘But we have to wait. Everything depends on not losing control. Just stay quiet, and it will all work out.’

Molly didn’t understand what Marta meant. What she said sounded crazy. Who was going to find them here? But gradually her panic subsided. She knew Marta well enough to realize that if she said someone would help them, then that’s what would happen. Molly scooted back against the wall and rested her head on her knees. She would do as Marta said.

‘My God, I’m tired,’ said Patrik, rubbing his face. Gösta had phoned just as he came in the door, probably wanting to hear how the meeting had gone. But after a moment of hesitation, Patrik had decided not to take the call, and he’d put his phone away. If there was an emergency, they would just have to come over to the house. He only had enough energy for one thing right now, and that was to discuss everything with Erica in peace and quiet.

‘Why don’t you just try to relax tonight?’ said Erica.

Patrik smiled. He’d already seen from her expression that she had something to tell him.

‘No, I need your help,’ he said, going into the living room to say hello to the children. All three jumped up and ran over to throw their arms around him. That was one of the many wonderful things about having kids: after being away all day, he was welcomed home as if he’d been on a long trip, sailing around the world.

‘Okay, that’s fine,’ said Erica, and he could hear how relieved she sounded. He wondered what she wanted to tell him, but first he needed to eat.

Half an hour later, his hunger assuaged, he was ready to listen to whatever it was his wife was so eager to discuss.

‘Today I realized that I’d forgotten to look into something.’ She sat down across from him. ‘I’d asked the prison staff whether Laila had ever received visitors or phone calls, and she hadn’t.’

‘I remember you telling me about that.’ Patrik looked at his wife in the glow from the candle on the kitchen table. She was so beautiful. Sometimes he seemed to forget that. Maybe it was because he’d become so used to looking at her that he didn’t react. He ought to tell her more often, say nice things to her, even though he knew that she was happy with the small moments they shared in their daily life – evenings spent sitting on the sofa with her head resting on his shoulder, Friday dinners with good food and a glass of wine, lying in bed and talking before they fell asleep. All those things that he also loved about their life.

‘Sorry, what were you saying?’ He realized that he’d been lost in his own thoughts. Fatigue was making it hard for him to stay focused.

‘Well, I totally forgot about another way that Laila might have stayed in contact with the outside world. It was so stupid of me, but luckily I remembered.’

‘Get to the point, sweetheart,’ he teased her.

‘Okay. I’m talking about the post. I forgot to find out if she’d ever received any post or sent any letters.’

‘Judging by your ill-concealed glee, you found out something. Am I right?’

Erica nodded eagerly. ‘Yes. But I have no idea what it means. Wait here. I want to show you what I found.’

She got up and went into the front hall to fetch her bag. Then she carefully took out the postcards and placed them on the kitchen table in front of Patrik.

As she sat down, she said, ‘These cards were sent to Laila, but she refused to accept them. In fact, she told the staff to throw them away. It’s lucky that they didn’t. As you can see, they all have pictures from Spain.’

‘Who sent them?’

‘I have no clue. They were postmarked in various towns in Sweden, but I can’t find any connection between the places.’

‘What does Laila say about them?’ He picked up one postcard, turned it over and looked at the address stamped in blue.

‘I haven’t talked to her yet. I wanted to try and find the connection first.’

‘Any theories?’

‘No. I’ve been thinking about these postcards ever since I got them. But aside from Spain, there doesn’t seem to be any common denominator.’

‘Doesn’t Laila have a sister who lives in Spain?’

Erica nodded and picked up another of the postcards. It showed a matador holding a red cape in front of a ferocious bull.

‘Yes, she does. But it seems that they haven’t had any contact in all these years, and besides, the cards were sent from Sweden, not Spain.’

Patrik frowned as he tried to think of any other possible links. ‘Have you looked on a map to see where these towns are located?’

‘No, but I was thinking of doing that. Come with me, and we’ll mark them on the map in my study.’

She strode out of the kitchen carrying the postcards in her hand. He got up more slowly and followed.

Upstairs Erica turned over the first of the postcards to look at the postmark and then at the map. When she found the town she was looking for, she put an ‘X’ next to the name. She did the same with the other three cards. Patrik watched in silence, leaning against the doorframe with his arms folded. From downstairs he could hear Emil’s father in an Astrid Lindgren film shouting as he chased his son towards the woodshed.

‘Okay, have a look,’ said Erica, stepping back to study the map. She had marked the hometowns of all the missing girls with red ink. She used blue ink to indicate the towns on the postmarks. ‘I still don’t see anything.’

Patrik came into the room and stood next to her. ‘No, I don’t see any pattern either.’

‘And nothing came out during the meeting today that might help?’ asked Erica without taking her eyes off the map.

‘No, nothing,’ he said, shrugging with resignation. ‘But since you’re already so involved, I thought I’d tell you what we discussed. Maybe you’ll notice something that we missed. Come on, let’s go back to the kitchen and talk.’

He left the room and slowly headed downstairs, as he continued to talk to her over his shoulder.

‘As I mentioned, I wanted to ask for your help. All the districts have videotaped their interviews with the families of the girls, and we now have copies of all the videos. Before we only had the written reports to go on. I’d like you to watch the interviews with me and tell me anything that comes to mind.’

Erica was right behind him on the stairs, and she put her hand on his shoulder.

‘Of course I’ll watch them. We can do that as soon as the kids go to bed. But first I want to hear what everybody said today at the meeting.’

They sat down at the kitchen table again, and for a moment Patrik wondered whether he should suggest that they raid the freezer to see what sort of ice cream they could find.

‘One of my colleagues in Göteborg wanted me to ask you again about your talk with Minna’s mother. We all have a feeling that her case is different, and even the smallest detail you can remember might help.’

‘Okay. But I told you about our conversation right after I talked to her, and by now it’s no longer fresh in my mind.’

‘That’s all right. Just tell me what you remember,’ said Patrik, silently cheering when he saw Erica go to the freezer and take out a container of Ben & Jerry’s ice cream. Sometimes he thought it was true that people who lived together for a long time learned to read each other’s minds.

‘You’re having ice cream?’ Maja had come into the kitchen and stood there glaring at her parents. ‘That’s not fair!’

Patrik watched as she took a deep breath, and he knew what was coming next.

‘Anton! Noel! Mamma and Pappa are having ice cream, and they’re not giving us any.’

He sighed and got up. He took out a family-size container of ice cream and got three bowls from the cupboard. Then he began serving up the ice cream. Parents had to choose their battles.

He had just filled the third bowl and was looking forward to helping himself to a big portion of chocolate fudge brownie when the doorbell rang. And it kept on ringing.

‘What now?’ He cast a glance at Erica and then went to open the door. There stood Martin, looking tense.

‘Why the hell don’t you answer your phone? We’ve been looking all over for you!’

‘What’s happened?’ said Patrik, feeling his stomach knot.

Martin gave him a worried look.

‘Jonas Persson rang the station. Molly and Marta have disappeared.’

Behind him Patrik heard Erica gasp.

Jonas was sitting on the living-room sofa, feeling his anxiety grow. He didn’t know what the police were doing here. Shouldn’t they be out somewhere, searching? Incompetent fools.

As if he could read his thoughts, Patrik Hedström came over to place his hand on Jonas’s shoulder.

‘We’re going to search the surrounding area now, but we’ll wait to go into the woods until daylight. What we need you to do is make a list of all of Marta and Molly’s friends. And maybe you could start phoning some of them.’

‘I’ve already called everyone I could think of.’

‘Make the list anyway. There may be names you’d forgotten. And I’m going to have a word with your mother too, in case she recalls anything more about what they were planning to do this afternoon. Does Marta keep a daily calendar or diary? Does Molly? Anything could be useful at this point.’

‘Marta uses the diary on her mobile, which she probably took with her, even though she’s not answering. She never goes anywhere without it. Molly’s mobile is still in her room. And I have no idea if she keeps any sort of diary.’ He shook his head. What did he really know about Molly’s life? What did he know about his daughter?

‘Okay,’ said Patrik, again patting him on the shoulder. Jonas was surprised how comforting that was. His touch seemed to make him feel calmer.

‘Could I go with you to talk to my mother?’ He stood up to indicate that it wasn’t a request. ‘She gets easily nervous, and this has upset her.’

‘Sure, that’s fine,’ said Patrik, and headed for the door.

Jonas followed and they walked in silence across the yard to Helga and Einar’s house. There he strode ahead of Patrik to climb the front steps and pull open the door.

‘It’s just me, Mamma. And a police officer who wants to ask you a few questions.’

Helga came into the hall. ‘Police officer? What do the police want? Has something happened?’

‘Nothing to worry about,’ Patrik replied quickly. ‘We’re just here because Marta and Molly haven’t turned up, and Jonas hasn’t been able to get hold of them. But these sorts of situations usually end up being nothing but a misunderstanding. They’re probably visiting a friend and just forgot to tell anyone.’

Helga nodded and looked a bit calmer.

‘That’s probably all it is. I don’t really see why it’s necessary to bother the police with this right now. I’m sure they have plenty of other things to do.’

She led the way to the kitchen and went back to emptying the dishwasher.

‘Sit down, Mamma,’ said Jonas.

By now his anxiety was at fever pitch. He couldn’t understand what was going on. Where could they be? In his mind he’d gone over the conversations he’d had with Marta during the past few days. Nothing gave him any reason to believe that something was wrong. Yet he was filled with fear – the same fear he’d felt ever since their first meeting. The fear and conviction that one day she would leave him. And that scared him more than anything else. Whatever was perfect was bound to be ruined. The balance had to be destroyed. That was the philosophy he had made his own. How could he have believed that he would remain untouched? Or that the same rules didn’t apply to him?

‘How long were they here?’ Patrik was quietly asking his questions, and Jonas closed his eyes to listen as his mother answered. He could hear from her tone of voice that she didn’t like being put in this situation. He knew she thought they should have handled things without bringing in the police. In their family, they always took care of everything on their own.

‘They didn’t mention any plans, just said they would be training with the horses later on.’ Helga looked up at the ceiling as she talked. Jonas recognized this long-time habit of hers. All these familiar gestures, repeated over and over in an endless cycle. He had accepted that he was part of this cycle, and Marta had too. But without her, he couldn’t and wouldn’t be able to participate. It would no longer have any meaning.

‘So they didn’t say they were going to visit anyone? Or mention any errands they needed to run?’ Patrik went on.

Helga shook her head. ‘No, and in that case they would have taken the car. Marta was always rather lazy, that way.’

‘Was?’ said Jonas, and he heard his voice rise to a falsetto. ‘Don’t you mean “is”, not “was”?’

Patrik looked at him in surprise. Jonas propped his elbows on the table and rested his head in his hands.

‘Sorry. I’ve been up since four this morning and haven’t had much sleep. It’s just not like Marta to miss a lesson, and definitely not like her to go off without telling me.’

‘I’m sure they’ll come home soon. And Marta will be cross when she hears that we’ve made such a fuss,’ said Helga, trying to console him. But there was a slight undertone, and Jonas wondered if Patrik had heard it.

Jonas wished he could believe her, but all his senses told him something was wrong. What would he do if they were gone? He would never be able to explain to anyone how he and Marta were like one and the same person. Since the first moment, they had breathed in unison. Molly was his flesh and blood, but without Marta, he was nothing.

‘Excuse me, I’ve got to go to the loo,’ Jonas said, standing up.

‘I’m sure your mother is right,’ Patrik called after him.

He didn’t reply. He didn’t really need the loo. He just wanted a few minutes alone to compose himself so they wouldn’t see that everything was about to fall apart.

He could hear his father grumbling and groaning upstairs. He was probably making extra noise because he could hear voices in the kitchen. But Jonas had no intention of going upstairs to see him. Right now Einar was the last person in the world he wanted to see.

Whenever he came near his father, he would feel a scorching heat, as if from a blazing fire. It had always been like that. Helga had tried to be the cooling force between them, but she’d never succeeded. Now only a quiet smouldering remained inside of Einar, and Jonas didn’t know how long he’d be able to help his father keep it alive. Or how long he was obligated to do so.

Jonas went into the bathroom and leaned his forehead against the mirror. It felt pleasantly cool. He could feel how flushed his cheeks were. When he closed his eyes, images flashed through his mind – so many memories from the life he had shared with Marta. He felt his nose running, and he leaned down to get some toilet paper, but there was none. Outside the door he could hear a murmur of voices from the kitchen, as well as the noise Einar was making upstairs. Jonas squatted down and opened the cupboard under the sink, which was where Helga kept the extra rolls of toilet paper.

He peered inside the cupboard. There was something hidden next to the toilet paper. At first he didn’t understand what he was seeing. The next instant he understood everything.

Erica had offered to help search, but Patrik had pointed out the obvious: someone needed to stay home with the kids. Reluctantly she’d agreed he was right, and she decided to spend the evening watching the videotaped interviews with family members. They were all in a box in the front hall, but from experience she knew she shouldn’t start watching them until the children were asleep in their beds. So she pushed aside all thought of the videos and sat down on the sofa with the kids.

She sat through yet another DVD film about Emil, smiling at his antics as she snuggled close to the twins and Maja. This wasn’t always easy since they all wanted to sit next to her, but she ended up pulling Anton on to her lap, with Noel and Maja on either side, leaning against her. She was filled with gratitude for everything she had in her life. She thought about Laila and wondered if she’d ever had similar feelings for her children. It seemed unlikely, in light of what she’d done.

As Emil poured blueberry soup over Mrs Petrell’s head, she noticed that the children were dozing off. A few minutes later she heard the unmistakable sound of their quiet breathing as they slept. Carefully she untangled herself and got up. Then she carried them upstairs one by one and put them to bed. She paused for a few seconds in the boys’ room, looking at their blond heads resting on their pillows. So secure, so content, so unaware of the evil that existed in the world. Then she tiptoed out and went downstairs to the front hall to fetch the videos. She sat down on the sofa again and studied the labels on the DVDs. She decided to play them in order, starting with the first girl who disappeared.

She felt a rush of sympathy when she saw Sandra Andersson’s family. Their faces were haggard as they tried to answer the police officers’ questions. They were eager to help, but they were tormented by all the thoughts stirred up by the interview. Certain questions were repeated several times, and even though Erica knew why this was done, she could understand the family’s frustration at not being able to answer.

She moved on to the second and third videos, trying to keep all her senses on high alert. But she began to feel discouraged when she failed to find anything, though she couldn’t say what she was looking for. She realized that asking her for help was a long shot, and Patrik probably hadn’t thought she’d actually find something. But she was still hoping for that moment of epiphany when she would see everything clearly and all the pieces would magically fall into place. It had happened to her before, and she knew it was always possible, but in this case she saw only grieving families with too many unanswered questions.

She turned off the DVD player. The suffering she’d witnessed in the eyes of the parents had started to get to her. Their pain was so apparent in their gestures and in their voices, which kept breaking with the effort to hold back their tears. Erica couldn’t bear to watch any more of the interviews. She decided instead to give Anna a call.

Her sister sounded tired on the phone. Erica was surprised to hear that Anna had been present when it was discovered that Marta and Molly were missing. For her part, Erica could report that the police were now involved. Then they chatted for a while about their own lives which, in spite of everything, continued on. She didn’t ask how Anna was doing. Tonight she just couldn’t bear to hear her sister say that everything was fine, when that was so clearly a lie. She simply let Anna talk and pretended that nothing was wrong.

‘So, what’s up? Tell me why you called,’ said Anna.

Erica wasn’t sure how to reply. She had already mentioned the videos, but now she tried to sort out her feelings.

‘It’s just so strange to be sitting here watching these interviews. It’s like sharing the grief of these families. I can tell how awful it must be for them to go through something like this. At the same time I can’t help feeling relieved that my own children are safe in bed upstairs.’

‘Yes, thank God for our children. Without them I don’t know how I would have survived. If only…’

Anna didn’t finish her sentence, but Erica knew what she was thinking. There should have been one more child.

‘I have to go now,’ said Anna. Erica had a sudden urge to ask whether Dan had mentioned that she’d phoned him earlier in the day. But she stopped herself. It might be best to let them handle things at their own pace.

They said goodbye and ended the phone call. Then Erica got up from the sofa and put the next DVD in the player. It was the interview with Minna’s mother, and she recognized the flat she’d visited only a few days ago. She also recognized the resigned expression on Nettan’s face. Like the other parents, she tried to answer the police officers’ questions. She too wanted to help, but there the similarity ended. In appearance she was very different from the other family members. Her hair was dull and uncombed, and she was wearing the same nubby cardigan she’d had on when Erica visited. She chain-smoked through the whole interview, and Erica could hear the officers coughing occasionally from all the smoke.

They mostly asked the same questions she had asked, and that helped to refresh her memory before telling Patrik again about her own interview with Nettan. The main difference was that she had been allowed to look through the photo album, and that had given her a more personal view of Minna and her mother. The police hadn’t seemed to bother with that. Yet Erica had always been more interested in the people involved in or affected by a crime. What sort of personal lives had they led? What were their relationships with others? What did they remember? She loved to look through photo albums, to see the family celebrations and daily life through the human eye behind the camera lens. Someone had chosen to photograph each specific scene, and it was interesting to see how he or she had depicted a life.

In Nettan’s case, it had been painfully clear that she placed great importance on the various men who had come and gone. It was easy to see that she’d been longing for a family, a husband for herself and a father for Minna. There were pictures of Minna sitting on some man’s shoulders, of Nettan at the beach with some other man, and both of them with Nettan’s latest boyfriend, standing in front of a car packed with hopes for a wonderful summer holiday. Those were important images for Erica to see, even if they didn’t seem relevant to the police.

She removed the DVD and put in another. This was the interview with Victoria’s parents and brother. But again she didn’t notice anything in particular. She glanced at her watch. Eight o’clock. Patrik would probably be late getting home, if he came home at all. She suddenly felt more alert, so she decided to watch all the videos again and pay even closer attention.

A couple of hours later she was finished. And she was forced to admit that she hadn’t discovered anything new. She decided to go to bed. There was no need to wait up for Patrik, since he hadn’t phoned, and that meant he must be busy. She would have given anything to know what was happening, but after living so many years with a policeman, she’d learned that sometimes it was necessary to restrain her curiosity and simply wait. This was undoubtedly one of those occasions.

Tired and overwhelmed with too much input, she got into bed and pulled the covers up to her chin. Both she and Patrik liked to sleep in a cool room. The chill in the bedroom made it even more enjoyable to get under the warm duvet. Almost at once she began to drift off. In that no-man’s-land between sleep and consciousness, images from the videos began whirling through her mind. They rushed past in no particular order, each one quickly replaced by another. Her body got heavier, and as she began to slide into sleep, the flood of images slowed, until her brain stopped on one picture. And all of a sudden she was wide awake.

Feverish activity had taken over the station. Patrik had planned to call a brief meeting to coordinate their efforts as they searched for Molly and Marta, but the work was already in full swing. Gösta, Martin, and Annika were phoning friends and acquaintances, ringing Molly’s classmates, the stable girls, and everyone else on the list that Jonas had provided. Those names led to more names, but so far they hadn’t found anyone who knew where Molly and Marta could be. By now it was getting so late that a reasonable explanation for their absence seemed less and less likely.

Patrik walked down the corridor to the kitchen. As he passed Gösta’s office he caught a glimpse of his colleague jumping up from his chair.

‘Hey, wait!’

Patrik stopped in mid-stride.

‘What is it?’

Gösta’s cheeks were flushed. ‘Well, the thing is, something happened when you were gone today. I didn’t want to talk about it when we were at Jonas’s house, but Pedersen phoned earlier. He said it was Lasse’s blood on the dock.’

‘Just as we thought.’

‘Yes, but that’s not all.’

‘Okay. What else did he find out?’ asked Patrik impatiently.

‘On impulse Pedersen compared the blood with the DNA on the cigarette butt that we sent to the lab for analysis. The one we found in the garden of Victoria’s neighbour.’

‘And?’

‘They matched,’ said Gösta, eager to see Patrik’s reaction.

‘Are you saying that Lasse was the person watching her house?’ He stared at Gösta as he tried to make sense of everything. ‘He was the one spying on Victoria?’

‘Yes. And he was probably also the one who sent those threatening letters. But unfortunately we’ll never know for sure, since Ricky threw them out.’

‘So Lasse may have been blackmailing someone because he knew that person was having an affair with Victoria,’ said Patrik, thinking out loud. ‘Someone who wanted to keep the relationship secret. Even if it meant paying blackmail.’

Gösta nodded. ‘Exactly what I was thinking.’

‘Do you think it was Jonas?’ said Patrik.

‘That was my thought, but it turns out that Ricky was wrong.’

Patrik listened to Gösta’s explanation, and suddenly everything he’d thought was turned upside down.

‘We need to tell the others about this. Go find Martin and I’ll get Annika.’

A few minutes later they were all seated in the kitchen. It was pitch dark outside, and snow was falling. Martin had made a fresh pot of coffee.

‘Where the hell is Mellberg?’ asked Patrik.

‘He was here for a while, but then he went home for dinner. He probably fell asleep on the sofa,’ said Annika.

‘Okay. We’ll get by without him.’ Adrenaline was making him jittery. Even though it was annoying that Mellberg always managed to sneak off, Patrik knew they’d get more work done in his absence.

‘So what’s happened?’ asked Martin.

‘We’ve received some new information that might be of great importance to our search for Molly and Marta.’ Patrik could hear how bombastic he sounded, but that sometimes occurred when the situation was as serious as it was now. ‘Could you tell everyone what you found out, Gösta?’

Gösta cleared his throat and explained how they’d discovered that Lasse was the one spying on Victoria.

‘He must have found out that Victoria was having an affair with someone. And since he clearly regarded the relationship as morally objectionable, he started sending threatening letters to her. At the same time he began blackmailing the other person.’

‘Do you think he was the one who kidnapped Victoria?’ asked Martin.

‘That’s one possible theory, but Lasse doesn’t seem like the type of criminal that Struwer described. And I have a hard time believing that he’d be capable of carrying out that sort of crime,’ said Patrik.

‘But who was Lasse blackmailing?’ asked Annika. ‘It had to be Jonas, right? Since he was the one having an affair with Victoria.’

‘That was my conclusion, of course. But…’ Gösta paused for effect, and Patrik could tell that he was enjoying having everyone’s full attention.

‘But it wasn’t him,’ Patrik interjected. He nodded to Gösta to go on.

‘Ricky thought, just as we did, that Jonas was having a relationship with his sister. But his mother knew something about Victoria that no else knew. It wasn’t boys that she fell in love with.’

‘What?’ said Martin, sitting up straighter. ‘How come nobody knew about this? We didn’t hear a word about it when we talked to her friends and classmates. Why did her mother know about her sexual preference when no one else did?’

‘I suppose Helena, as her mother, suspected the truth. Then she happened to see something when Victoria brought a friend home. She later mentioned it to her daughter, so that Victoria would know she could be open about such things with her family. But Victoria panicked and begged her not to tell Ricky or her father.’

‘Obviously it would be a sensitive issue for her,’ said Annika. ‘At her age it can’t be easy, especially in a small town like this.’

‘Right. Sure. But I’m guessing she got so upset because at that time she had just started a relationship with someone, and she didn’t think her parents would want her to be with that person.’ Gösta reached for his coffee cup.

‘So who was it?’ asked Annika.

Martin frowned. ‘Was it Marta? That would explain the argument between Jonas and Victoria. Maybe it was about Marta.’

Gösta nodded. ‘And that means Jonas probably knew about it.’

‘So we’re assuming that Lasse was blackmailing Marta? She got tired of paying the money, and she killed him? Or was Jonas so angry when he found out that he took matters into his own hands? Or is there some other possible scenario that we’ve missed?’ Martin pensively scratched the back of his head.

‘No. I think it has to be either the first or second option,’ said Patrik, looking at Gösta, who nodded agreement.

‘Then we need to talk to Jonas again,’ said Martin. ‘Is it possible that Marta and Molly were not kidnapped by the same perpetrator as the other girls? Could Marta have taken Molly with her and fled so she wouldn’t be arrested for murder? Maybe Jonas knows where they are and this is all a sham.’

‘In that case, he’s an awfully good actor, and-’ Patrik stopped when he heard footsteps out in the corridor. He was surprised to see his wife come into the room.

‘Hi,’ said Erica. ‘The front door was open, so I came in.’

Patrik stared at her. ‘What are you doing here? And where are the children?’

‘I phoned Anna and asked her to come over.’

‘But why?’ said Patrik before he remembered that he’d asked her for a favour. Had she found something? He gave her an enquiring look, and she nodded.

‘I’ve found a common denominator for the missing girls. And I also think I know why Minna is different from the others.’

Bedtime was the hour that Laila hated most. In the darkness of night her life would catch up with her, everything that she’d managed to suppress in the daytime. At night the evil could once again reach her. She knew it was out there. It was just as real as the walls of her room and the much too hard mattress of her bed.

Laila stared up at the ceiling. It was pitch-dark in the room. Just before she fell asleep, she sometimes felt herself hovering in the air, with the blackness threatening to swallow her whole.

It was so strange to think that Vladek was dead. That was something she still had trouble comprehending. She could hear the sounds from the day they met, the happy laughter, the carnival music, the sounds of animals that she’d never heard before. And the smells were just as strong now as back then: popcorn, sawdust, grass, and sweat. But strongest of all was her memory of his voice. He had filled her heart even before she saw him. When her eyes met his, it was with a certainty in her gaze, and the next second she saw the same look on his face.

She tried to recall whether she’d ever had any sort of premonition of the misfortune that would result from their meeting, but she couldn’t think of anything. They came from such different worlds and had led completely different lives, so naturally they’d had difficulties to overcome. But neither of them had ever had any notion of the disaster awaiting them. Not even Krystyna the fortune teller. Was she blind on that day? This woman who otherwise saw everything? Or had she seen but decided she was mistaken because she could tell how great their love was for each other?

Back then nothing had seemed impossible. Nothing had seemed strange or wrong. Everything was centred around creating a future together, and life had duped them into believing that they would succeed. Maybe that was why later on the shock was so great, and why they dealt with it in such an indefensible manner. She had known from the start that it wasn’t right, but her survival instinct had taken precedence over her good sense. Now it was too late for regrets. All she could do was lie here in the dark and ponder their mistakes.

Jonas was surprised by how calm he felt. He took time to make all the proper preparations. There were so many years of memories to choose from, and he wanted to make the right choice, because when he’d gone there would be no one to return to. And he didn’t think there was any hurry. Uncertainty had fuelled his anxiety, but now that he knew where Marta was, he could make his plans with an icy precision that helped him to keep his mind sharp and clear.

He squinted into the dim light as he crouched down. One of the light bulbs had burned out, and he hadn’t got around to replacing it. That sort of neglect bothered him. It was important always to be prepared, to have everything in order, and to avoid mistakes.

When he stood up he hit his head on the ceiling where it slanted downward. He swore loudly, and for a moment he permitted himself to draw the smell into his nostrils. They had so many memories in here, but the memories were not bound to a specific place and could be relived over and over. He touched the suitcase. If marvellous moments had size and shape, then this suitcase would be so heavy it would be impossible to lift. Instead it was light as a feather in his hand, and that surprised him.

Cautiously he climbed up the ladder. He didn’t want to drop the suitcase. It contained not only his life, but a life shared in perfect harmony.

Up until now he had been walking in someone else’s footsteps. He had continued something that had already been started and hadn’t yet put his own mark on it. Now it was time for him to step forward and leave the past behind. That didn’t scare him. On the contrary. All of a sudden he saw everything so clearly. The whole time he’d had the power to change it all, to break with the old and instead build something that was better and his own.

The thought made him dizzy, and outside he closed his eyes and breathed in the cold night air. The ground seemed to be shaking and he held out his arms to keep his balance. He stood like that for a few minutes before he lowered his arms again and slowly opened his eyes.

On impulse he went over to the stable. He pushed open the heavy door, turned on the light, and carefully set the suitcase with its precious contents on the floor next to the wall. Then he opened all the stalls and shooed the horses out. One by one the surprised horses walked out the stable door. They paused in the yard, sniffing at the air and neighing before they headed off, swishing their tails in the night air. He smiled as he saw them disappear into the dark. They would enjoy a brief period of freedom before being captured. He was on his way to a new kind of freedom, and he had no intention of ever being captured.

It was so blessedly peaceful to sit here in her parents’ old house, where Erica and Patrik now lived, with only the sleeping children upstairs to keep her company. Here no guilt was hiding in the walls. Only memories from her childhood, and thanks to Erica and their father Tore, they were happy memories. Anna was no longer bitter or angry about her mother’s strange indifference to her daughters. Not after finding out why. And ever since then, Anna had felt only sympathy for Elsy, who had experienced something that had made her afraid to love her own children. She believed her mother had loved them, but she just hadn’t known how to show it. She hoped that Elsy was looking down on them from heaven and knew that her daughters understood and had forgiven her. She hoped Elsy knew that they loved her.

She got up from the living-room sofa and began cleaning up a bit. Things were surprisingly neat and tidy for a change, and she smiled at the thought of Kristina and Mr Fix-it. Mothers-in-law were a breed all their own. Dan’s mother was the polar opposite of Kristina. She was almost too considerate, always apologizing for getting in the way whenever she came to visit. The question was, which kind was better. But it was probably the same thing with mothers-in-law as with children: you just had to take whatever you got. You could choose your husband, but not your mother-in-law.

And she had chosen Dan with all her heart. Then she had betrayed him. The thought of what she’d done made her feel sick again. She rushed for the toilet. It felt like her whole stomach turned inside out as she threw up her dinner.

Anna rinsed out her mouth. Beads of sweat appeared on her forehead and she splashed water on her face, taking a look at herself in the mirror. She almost took a step back when she saw the naked despair in her eyes. Was this what Dan saw every day? Was this why he couldn’t bring himself to look at her any more?

The doorbell rang, startling her. Who would be coming over to see Erica and Patrik so late at night? Quickly she dried her face and went to the hall to open the door. There stood Dan.

‘What are you doing here?’ she asked in surprise before a feeling of dread sunk its claws into her. ‘The children? Did something happen to the children?’

Dan shook his head. ‘No, everything’s fine. I wanted to talk to you, and I didn’t think it could wait, so I asked Belinda to come over and babysit for a while.’ Dan’s older daughter no longer lived at home with them, but sometimes she’d come over, much to the delight of her younger siblings. ‘But I have to go back soon.’

‘Okay.’ Anna looked at him, and he didn’t look away. ‘Can I come in? I’m freezing to death out here.’

‘Oh, sure, come on in,’ she said politely, as if speaking to a stranger, and stepped aside.

So this was the end. He didn’t want to talk about it at home, with the children around and in the place that still held such good memories for them. Even though she’d started to long for all the anxiety and sorrow of their situation to come to an end, whatever that might mean, she now felt herself wanting to scream in protest. She didn’t want to lose the most precious thing she’d ever had. He was the great love of her life.

With heavy steps she led the way into the living room, sat down, and waited. She immediately began thinking about practical matters. Erica and Patrik would probably let her and the children stay in their guestroom until she found a new flat. Tomorrow she’d pack up the essentials. Now that the decision had been made, they might as well move at once. No doubt Dan would be relieved by that. He must be as tired of living with her and all her guilty feelings as she was.

She felt her heart sink when Dan came into the room. Wearily he ran his hand through his hair, and as so often before, she was struck by how handsome he was. It wouldn’t be hard for him to find someone else. Plenty of girls in Fjällbacka would have their eye on him… She forced such thoughts out of her mind. It was too painful to think of Dan in someone else’s arms. That was too much for her.

‘Anna…’ said Dan, sitting down next to her.

She saw that he was struggling to find the right words, and for the thousandth time she wanted to shout: I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry! But she knew it was too late. She looked down at her lap and said quietly, ‘I understand. You don’t have to say anything. I’ll ask Patrik and Erica if we can stay here for a while. We can move out tomorrow and just take the essentials. I can get the rest of our things later.’

Dan gave her a dismayed look. ‘Do you want to leave me?’

Anna frowned. ‘No. But I thought that’s why you came here. To say that you’re leaving me. Isn’t that what you want?’ She could hardly breathe as she waited to hear his answer. There was a roaring in her ears and her heart was trembling with newly sparked hope.

So many emotions flitted across Dan’s face that she couldn’t decipher them.

‘Dearest Anna, I’ve tried to imagine leaving you, but I can’t. Today Erica phoned me… and, well, she made me understand that I needed to do something if I didn’t want to lose you. I can’t promise this will be easy or that everything will suddenly be fine, but I can’t imagine life without you. And I want us to have a good life. We both seem to have lost our way for a while, but now we’re here, we have each other, and I want us to stay together.’

He took her hand and pressed it to his cheek. She felt the stubble under her palm and wondered how many times she had stroked his face.

‘You’re shaking,’ said Dan, squeezing her hand tighter. ‘Is this what you want too? Do you want us to stay together?’

‘Yes,’ said Anna. ‘Yes, Dan. That’s what I want.’