The Sandman

89

Reidar Frost has ordered food from Noodle House, and had it delivered to the foyer of Södermalm Hospital. Steam is rising from mince and coriander dim sum, spring rolls that smell of ginger, rice noodles with chopped vegetables and chilli, fried pork fillet and chicken soup.

Because he doesn’t know what Mikael likes, he’s ordered eight different dishes.

Just as he emerges from the lift and starts walking along the corridor, his phone rings.

Reidar puts the bags down by his feet, sees that the caller has withheld their number, and hurries to answer:

‘Reidar Frost.’

The phone is silent, nothing but a crackling sound.

‘Who is this?’ he asks.

Someone groans in the background.

‘Hello?’

He’s on the point of ending the call when someone whispers:

‘Daddy?’

‘Hello?’ he repeats. ‘Who is this?’

‘Daddy, it’s me,’ a strange, high voice whispers. ‘It’s Felicia.’

The floor starts to spin under Reidar’s feet.

‘Felicia?’

It’s almost impossible to hear her voice now.

‘Daddy... I’m so scared, Daddy...’

‘Where are you? Please, darling...?’

Suddenly he hears giggling, and he feels a shiver run through his whole body.

‘Darling Daddy, give me twenty million kronor...’

It’s obvious now that it’s a man disguising his voice and trying to make it sound higher.

‘Give me twenty million and I’ll sit in your lap and—’

‘Do you know anything about my daughter?’ Reidar asks.

‘You’re such a bad writer it makes me sick.’

‘Yes, I am... but if you know anything about—’

The call ends and Reidar’s hands are shaking so much that he can’t tap in the number for the police. He tries to pull himself together, and tells himself that he’s going to report the call, even though it won’t lead anywhere, even though they’re bound to think he has only himself to blame.