The Ice Child

Chapter Thirteen

For the first time in ages Anna had slept soundly and without dreaming, although it was late by the time she finally fell asleep. She and Dan had talked for hours, deciding to let the wounds heal, even though they knew it would take time. They wanted to stay together.

She rolled on to her side and stretched out her arm. Dan lay next to her, and instead of turning away, he took her hand and placed it on his chest. Smiling, she felt his warmth spread through her body, from her toes and up to her stomach and… She leapt out of bed and ran for the bathroom, getting there just in time to empty the contents of her stomach into the toilet.

‘Sweetheart, what is it?’ said Dan, sounding worried as he came to stand in the doorway. In spite of her misery, Anna couldn’t help tears of joy from welling up because he’d called her ‘sweetheart’.

‘I think it’s some sort of stomach flu. I’ve had it for a while.’ She stood up shakily and ran water into the sink to rinse her mouth. She could still taste the vomit, so she decided to brush her teeth.

Dan stood behind her, looking at her in the mirror. ‘How long has this been going on?’

‘I’m not sure. But I’ve felt sick to my stomach off and on for a couple of weeks. It feels like it just won’t stop,’ she said with the toothbrush in her mouth. She felt Dan’s hand on her shoulder.

‘That doesn’t sound like stomach flu. Have you considered another possibility?’ Their eyes met, and Anna abruptly stopped brushing her teeth. She spat out the toothpaste and turned around to stare at him.

‘When was your last period?’ he asked.

Frantically she tried to remember. ‘I guess it was a while ago. But I thought that was because of… all the stress. Do you think that…? We only did it once.’

‘Once is enough, as you well know.’ He smiled and put his hand on her cheek. ‘Wouldn’t it be great if it’s true?’

‘Yes,’ she said as tears spilled from her eyes. ‘Yes. That would really be great.’

‘Shall I drive over to the chemist’s shop and buy a pregnancy test?’

Anna mutely nodded. She didn’t want to get her hopes up if it turned out she merely had the stomach flu.

‘Okay. I’ll go right now.’ Dan kissed her on the cheek.

She sat down on the bed to wait. She touched her breasts. They were a bit tender and swollen, and her belly was a little swollen too. Was it possible that something had been able to grow inside the barren landscape that her body had become? If it was true, she promised never to take anything for granted. She didn’t want to risk losing something so rare and precious again.

She was roused from her thoughts by Dan coming back into the bedroom, out of breath.

‘Here,’ he said, handing her a paper bag from the chemist.

With trembling fingers she opened the little package. Casting a panic-stricken glance at her husband, she went into the bathroom. She sat on the toilet and stuck the stick between her legs, trying to aim properly. Then she set the stick on the edge of the sink and washed her hands. They were still shaking, and she couldn’t take her eyes off the tiny window on the stick, which would show her if their future was about to change, if they were going to welcome a new life or not.

She heard the door open. Dan came in, stood behind her, and put his arms around her. Together they stared at the stick. And waited.

Erica had slept restlessly, and only for a few hours. She would have liked to set off at once, but she knew that she wouldn’t be able to see Laila until ten o’clock at the earliest, since she hadn’t phoned in advance to make an appointment. Besides, she needed to take the children to the day-care centre.

She stretched out her arms as she lay in bed. Fatigue made her body feel stiff and sluggish. She put her hand on the empty place next to her. Patrik had still not come home, and she wondered what had happened out there on the farm. She wondered whether they had found Molly and Marta, and what Jonas had said. But she didn’t want to bother Patrik by phoning him, even though she had something new to tell him. She hoped he would be pleased with her efforts. Sometimes he was annoyed if she got involved in his work, but that was only because he worried about her safety. This time he had specifically asked her for help. And there was no possibility that she’d get in any sort of trouble. She simply wanted to talk to Laila, and after that she’d give all the information to Patrik so he could use it in the investigation.

Wearing her nightgown and with her hair tousled, she tiptoed out of the bedroom and went downstairs. She loved having a little time to herself so she could drink a cup of coffee in peace and quiet before the children woke. She’d brought some of the printouts with her to the kitchen so she could read through them again. It was important to do her homework before the visit. But she didn’t get very far before she heard shouts from upstairs. With a sigh she got up to see to her children, who were now wide awake.

After taking care of all the morning chores and dropping off the kids at the day-care centre, Erica still had some time left, so she decided to double-check a few things. She went into her study and again stood in front of the map. She stared at it for a long time without seeing any sort of pattern. Suddenly she squinted her eyes and smiled. Why hadn’t she seen that earlier? It was so simple.

She reached for the phone and rang Annika at the station. Five minutes later, after having ended the conversation, she was even more convinced that she had guessed right.

The picture was getting clearer and clearer. And if Erica explained what she’d discovered yesterday, Laila wouldn’t be able to keep silent any longer. This time she would have to tell the whole story.

Filled with new hope, Erica left the house and got into her car. Before she drove off she made sure she had the postcards with her. She would need them in order to get Laila to reveal the secrets she’d been holding on to for so many years.

When Erica reached the prison, she spoke to the guard on duty.

‘I’d like to see Laila Kowalski. I didn’t call in advance to say I was coming, but could you ask her if she’d be willing to see me? Tell her I want to talk about the postcards.’

Erica held her breath as she waited outside the gate. Soon it buzzed to let her in, and with a pounding heart she walked towards the main building. Adrenaline was racing through her blood, making her breathing too fast and shallow. She stopped to take a few deep breaths to calm down. It was no longer just a matter of an old homicide case; now it was about five missing girls.

‘What do you want?’ said Laila the minute Erica entered the visitor’s room. She was standing with her back turned, looking out of the window.

‘I’ve seen the postcards,’ said Erica, sitting down. She took them out of her bag and placed them on the table.

Laila didn’t move. The sun shone on her hair, which was cropped so close that in places her scalp was clearly visible.

‘They shouldn’t have saved them. I expressly told them to throw those cards out.’ She sounded more resigned than angry, and Erica also thought she heard a hint of relief in her voice.

‘Well, they weren’t thrown out. And I think you know who sent them. And why.’

‘I had a feeling that sooner or later you’d work it out. I suppose that in my heart I was hoping you would.’ Laila turned around and sank on to the chair across from Erica. She kept her eyes lowered, staring at her clasped hands resting on the table.

‘You didn’t dare say anything because the postcards represented a veiled threat. A message that only you would understand. Am I right?’

‘Yes. And who would ever believe me?’ Laila shrugged and her hands trembled. ‘I was forced to protect the only thing I have left. The only thing that is still important to me.’

She raised her head and stared at Erica with her icy blue eyes.

‘You know what I mean, don’t you?’ she added.

‘That Peter is alive and you think he might be in danger? That he’s the one you’ve been protecting? Yes, that’s what I guessed. And I think you and your sister have been in much closer contact than you’ve wanted to let on. I think the discord between the two of you was a smokescreen to hide the fact that she took Peter in when your mother died.’

‘How did you find out?’ asked Laila.

Erica smiled. ‘During one of our conversations you mentioned that Peter lisped, and when I rang your sister, a man answered. He said he was her son. He lisped too. At first I thought it was because he had a slight Spanish accent. It took a while before I made the connection, and it was still a long shot.’

‘How did he sound?’

Erica felt heartsick when she realized that Laila hadn’t seen or spoken to her son in all these years. Impulsively she placed her hand on top of Laila’s.

‘He sounded very pleasant, very nice. I could hear his children in the background.’

Laila nodded but didn’t remove her hand. Her eyes filled with tears, and Erica could see she was struggling not to cry.

‘What happened? Why did he have to flee?’

‘He came home and found my mother – his grandmother – dead. He knew who did it, and he realized that his own life was in danger. So he contacted my sister, who helped him get to Spain. She took care of him as if he were her own son.’

‘But how did he manage without the proper ID and that sort of thing?’ asked Erica.

‘Agneta’s husband is a high-powered politician. He was somehow able to ensure that Peter got new papers, and that he was acknowledged as their son.’

‘Did you work out the connection between the postmarks on the cards?’ asked Erica.

Laila looked at her in surprise and pulled her hand away. ‘No, it never occurred to me to look at them. I know only that I got a postcard every time someone disappeared, because a few days later a letter would arrive with newspaper clippings.’

‘Really? Where were the letters sent from?’ Erica couldn’t hide her surprise. She hadn’t known anything about this.

‘I have no clue. There was no return address, and I threw out the envelopes. But the address was stamped, not handwritten, just like on the postcards. And of course I was terrified. I knew that Peter’s whereabouts had been discovered, and he might be the next victim. I thought that was the only way to interpret the pictures on the postcards.’

‘I understand. But what about the newspaper clippings? How did you interpret them?’ Erica gave her an inquisitive look.

‘As I said, there was only one option. The Girl was alive and wanted to get revenge by taking Peter away from me. The newspaper clippings were her way of telling me what she was capable of doing.’

‘How long have you known that she was alive?’ asked Erica. She spoke the words quietly, but even so they seemed to echo in the room.

In those icy blue eyes staring at her, Erica saw all the secrets, sorrow, loss, and anger that had accumulated over the years.

‘Ever since she murdered my mother,’ said Laila.

‘But why did she do that?’ Erica was not taking notes as she listened. The important thing right now was not to gather material for her book. She wasn’t even sure whether she’d ever finish writing it.

‘Who knows?’ Laila shrugged. ‘Revenge? Because she wanted to? Because she took pleasure in killing her? I never understood what went on in her mind. She was a stranger, a creature who didn’t function like the rest of us.’

‘When did you notice that things weren’t right with her?’

‘Early on. Almost right from the beginning. Mothers can tell when things aren’t as they should be. But I’d never…’ She turned away, but Erica caught a glimpse of the pain in her eyes.

‘Why…?’ Erica wasn’t sure what to say. These were difficult questions to ask, and no matter what the answers, she knew it would be hard for her to understand.

‘We made a mistake. I know that. But we had no idea how to deal with the situation. And Vladek came from a world with different customs and ideas.’ She gave Erica a pleading look. ‘He was a good person, but he was confronted with something he couldn’t handle. And I did nothing to stop him. Everything just got worse and worse. Our ignorance and fear took over, and I admit that in the end I hated her. I hated my own child.’ Laila stifled a sob.

‘How did you feel when you realized she was still alive?’ asked Erica cautiously.

‘I mourned when I heard that she’d died. Believe me, I really did, even though I might have been grieving for the daughter I never had.’ She met Erica’s eyes and took a deep breath. ‘But I mourned even more when I realized that in spite of everything she was still alive, and that she had killed my mother. The only thing I prayed for was that she wouldn’t take Peter away from me too.’

‘Do you know where she is?’

Laila shook her head. ‘No. For me, she’s just an evil shadow moving about out there.’ Then her eyes narrowed. ‘Do you know?’

‘I’m not sure, but I have my suspicions.’

Erica placed the postcards on the table with the picture side down. ‘Take a look at this. These cards were all postmarked at places between the town where a girl disappeared and Fjällbacka. I noticed it when I marked all the locations on a map of Sweden.’

Laila looked at the postcards and nodded.

‘Okay. But what does it mean?’

Erica realized that she’d started at the wrong end. ‘Well, the police recently discovered that each time a girl was kidnapped, a jump-racing competition was being held in the town where she disappeared. Since Victoria disappeared on her way home from Jonas and Marta’s stable, they have always been a focus of the investigation. Now it turns out that riding competitions are the common denominator. And now that I’ve also discovered a link between the postmarks, I’ve started to wonder whether…’

‘What?’ said Laila tonelessly.

‘I’ll tell you, but before I do, I want to hear what happened on the day Vladek died.’

A long silence followed. But then Laila began to tell her story.