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‘What?’ Tyra practically shrieked. ‘Who told you that? When I talked with the policeman, he didn’t say anything about that.’
‘My uncle was one of the medics in the ambulance that picked her up yesterday. He said both her eyes were gone.’
‘Oh, no,’ moaned Tyra, bending forward. It looked like she was going to vomit.
‘Do you think it’s someone we know?’ said Tindra with ill-concealed excitement.
‘Are you crazy?’ said Tyra, and Anna realized that she needed to put an end to this conversation.
‘That’s enough,’ she said as she went up to the girls and put her arm around Tyra. ‘It’s no good speculating. Can’t you see that Tyra is upset?’
Tindra stood up. ‘Well, I think it has to be the same madman who murdered those other girls.’
‘We don’t know that they’re dead,’ replied Anna.
‘Of course they’re dead,’ said Tindra boldly. ‘And I bet their eyes were gouged out too.’
Anna shuddered with revulsion as she hugged Tyra’s trembling body even closer.
Patrik stepped inside the warmth of the front hall. He was bone tired. It had been a long work day, but the fatigue he felt had more to do with the responsibility that weighed him down on an investigation of this nature. Sometimes he wished he had an ordinary nine-to-five job in an office or a factory, and not a profession where someone’s fate depended on how well he did his job. He felt a great responsibility for so many people. Especially for the family members who placed their trust in the police to deliver the answers they needed if they were ever to come to terms with what had happened. Then there was the victim, who seemed to plead with him to find the person who had prematurely put an end to her life. But his greatest responsibility was to the missing girls who might still be alive, and for those who might be at risk from the kidnapper. As long as the perpetrator was on the loose and unidentified, more girls might disappear. Girls who lived, breathed, and laughed, unaware that their days were numbered because of some sadistic murderer.
‘Pappa!’ A little human projectile threw himself at Patrik, followed instantly by two more, which meant that they all ended up in a heap on the floor. The melted snow on the doormat was seeping into his trousers, but he didn’t care. It was good to have his children so near. For a few seconds everything was perfect, but then the bickering started.
‘Hey!’ Anton screamed. ‘Noel pinched me!’
‘No!’ cried Noel. And as if to show that he hadn’t, he gave his brother a pinch. Anton howled and flailed his arms about.
‘All right now …’ Patrik separated the boys and tried to look stern. Maja stood off to one side, imitating his expression.
‘No pinching!’ she said, wagging her finger at her brothers. ‘If you keep fighting, you’ll get a dime-out.’ Patrik had to stop himself from laughing. When she was much younger, Maja had misunderstood the expression ‘time-out’, and it had been impossible to get her to say it correctly.
‘Thanks, sweetheart. I’ll handle this,’ he said, getting up and holding the twins by the hand.
‘Mamma, the twins are fighting,’ called Maja as she ran to Erica in the kitchen. Patrik followed with his sons.
‘Really?’ said Erica, her eyes wide. ‘They’re fighting? Never!’ She smiled and kissed Patrik on the cheek. ‘Dinner is ready, so let’s stop all the fuss. Maybe pancakes will improve everyone’s mood.’
That did the trick. After the children had finished eating and settled in front of the TV to watch Bolibompa, Erica and Patrik were able to enjoy a rare moment of peace and quiet at the kitchen table.
‘How’s it going?’ asked Erica, sipping her tea.
‘We’ve hardly begun.’ Patrik reached for the sugar bowl and dumped five teaspoonfuls into his cup. Right now he didn’t want to think about any diet rules. Erica had been watching his food intake like a hawk ever since he’d developed heart problems at the same time the twins were born. But tonight she didn’t say a word. He closed his eyes, savouring the first taste of the piping hot and very sweet tea.
‘Half the town was out in the woods today helping us, but we didn’t find anything. And then there was the press conference this afternoon. Have you already seen the news about it online?’
Erica nodded. She hesitated as if debating her next move, then got up and took the last of Kristina’s homemade buns out of the freezer. She put them on a plate and stuck it in the microwave. A minute later the delicious fragrance of butter and cinnamon filled the kitchen.
‘Isn’t there a risk of destroying evidence with half of Fjällbacka tramping through the woods?’
‘Sure. Of course. But we have no idea how far she walked or where she came from, and by this morning the snow had already obliterated any footprints. I thought it was worth the risk.’
‘So how did the press conference go?’ Erica took the plate out of the microwave and set it on the table.
‘There’s not much we can tell the press. Mostly it was reporters asking questions that we couldn’t answer.’ Patrik reached for a bun but swore and quickly dropped it back on the plate.
‘Let them cool off a bit.’
‘Thanks for telling me.’ He blew on his fingers.
‘Was it because of the ongoing investigation that you couldn’t answer?’
‘I wish that was the reason. But the fact is we haven’t got a clue. When Victoria disappeared it was like she went up in smoke. Not a trace left behind. No one saw anything, no one heard anything, and there were no links to the other missing girls. Then all of a sudden she just reappeared.’
Neither of them spoke as Patrik touched the buns again and decided they had cooled off enough to eat.
‘I heard something about her injuries,’ said Erica cautiously.
Patrik paused before saying anything. He wasn’t supposed to discuss the girl’s injuries, but obviously word had already spread, and he needed to talk to someone. Erica was not only his wife, she was also his best friend. Besides, she had a much keener mind than he did.
‘It’s all true. Although I don’t know what you heard.’ He was buying himself a little time by chewing on a cinnamon bun, but suddenly he lost his appetite, and it didn’t taste as good as it should.
‘I heard she had no eyes.’
‘Yes, her eyes were … gone. We don’t know how it was done. Pedersen is doing the autopsy early tomorrow morning.’ He hesitated again. ‘And her tongue had been cut out.’
‘Good Lord,’ said Erica. Now she lost her appetite too. She set a half-eaten bun back on the plate.
‘How long ago did it happen?’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Were the injuries new or had they healed?’
‘Good question. But I don’t know. I hope to get all the details from Pedersen tomorrow.’
‘Could it be some religious thing? Eye for an eye, tooth for a tooth? Or some horrible expression of hatred for women? She wasn’t supposed to look at him, and she was supposed to keep quiet.’
Erica waved her hands about as she talked, and as always Patrik was impressed with the shrewdness of his wife’s mind. Such thoughts hadn’t occurred to him when he was trying to speculate about a possible motive.
‘What about her ears?’ Erica went on.
‘What about her ears?’ He leaned forward, getting crumbs on his hands.
‘Well, I was just wondering about something … What if the person who did this, the one who took away her ability to see and speak, also damaged her hearing? If so, she would have been in a sort of bubble, without any means to communicate. Think about what power that would give the perpetrator.’
Patrik stared at her. He tried to imagine what Erica had just described, but the mere idea made his blood run cold. What a horrifying fate. If that was true, then it might have been a blessing that Victoria hadn’t survived, even though it seemed cold-hearted to think such a thing.
‘Mamma, they’re fighting again.’ Maja stood in the kitchen doorway. Patrik glanced at the clock on the wall.
‘Oh, it’s time for bed.’ He got up. ‘Shall we do rock, paper, scissors?’
Erica shook her head and got up to kiss him on the cheek.
‘If you put Maja to bed, I’ll take care of the boys tonight.’
‘Thanks,’ he said and took his daughter by the hand. They headed for the stairs as Maja chattered about what she had done during the day. But Patrik wasn’t listening. His thoughts were on the girl inside the bubble.
Jonas slammed the front door so hard that Marta came rushing out of the kitchen, then stood leaning against the doorjamb with her arms folded. He could tell that she’d been expecting this conversation, and her calm demeanour made him even angrier.
‘I just talked to Molly. What the hell were you thinking? Shouldn’t we be making decisions like this together?’
‘Yes, we should. But sometimes you don’t seem to understand what has to be done.’
He forced himself to take a deep breath. Marta knew that a disagreement about Molly was the only thing that could make him lose his temper.
Jonas lowered his voice. ‘She’s been looking forward to this competition. It’s the first one of the season.’
Marta turned around and went back into the kitchen.
‘I’m making dinner. You’ll have to come in here if you want to argue.’
He hung up his jacket, took off his boots, and swore as he set his feet on the floor. His socks were instantly soaked from the snow he’d tracked in. It was never a good thing when Marta decided to cook. The smell coming from the kitchen did not bode well.
‘I’m sorry for yelling.’ He went over to stand behind his wife, placing his hands on her shoulders. She was stirring something in a pot, and he looked down to see what it was. He couldn’t tell what was simmering inside, but whatever it was, it didn’t look appetizing.
‘Sausage stroganoff,’ she said in reply to his unspoken question.
‘Could you just explain to me why?’ he said gently as he continued to massage her shoulders. He knew her so well, knew that it would do no good to shout and scream. So he was trying a different tactic. He had promised Molly that he would at least try. She had been inconsolable when she told him about Marta’s decision, and the front of his shirt was still wet from her tears.
‘It would look insensitive if we went to the competition right now. Molly needs to learn that the world does not revolve around her.’
‘I don’t think anybody would object if she …’ he ventured.
Marta turned around and looked up at him. He had always found it endearing that she was so much shorter than he was. It made him feel strong, like he was her protector. But in his heart he knew that was not the case. She was stronger than him and always had been.
‘But don’t you understand? You know how people talk. It’s obvious we can’t allow Molly to compete after what happened yesterday. The riding school is barely breaking even, and our reputation is our most important asset. We can’t risk it. So we’ll just have to let Molly sulk. You should have heard the way she spoke to me today. It’s not acceptable. You let her get away with far too much.’
Jonas reluctantly had to admit that she was right. But that was not the whole truth, and she knew it. Jonas pulled her close, feeling her body against his own and the current that passed between them, as always. He would always feel it. Nothing was stronger. Not even his love for Molly.
‘I’ll talk to her,’ he said with his lips pressed against Marta’s hair. He inhaled her scent, so familiar yet still so exotic. He felt himself responding, and Marta did too. She moved her hand down to his crotch and began stroking him through his trousers. He groaned and leaned down to kiss her.
The stroganoff on the stove was burning, but they didn’t care.
UDDEVALLA 1967 (#ulink_6d599a75-3e76-54cf-8d96-e6a84dc0bb38)
Everything had fallen into place so nicely for them that Laila could hardly believe it. Vladek was not only an excellent lion tamer, he also possessed a talent that was more practical for everyday use. He was an expert at fixing things. It hadn’t taken long before word of his skill had spread through town, and people began coming to Vladek to get help with everything from faulty dishwashers to broken-down old bangers.
In all honesty, he’d probably attracted a large number of such jobs because of the interest his presence had stirred. Plenty of people wanted to have a look at someone as remarkable as a genuine circus performer. But after the initial curiosity had faded, they retained a solid respect for his handyman skills. Everyone soon grew so accustomed to him that it was as if he had always been part of the community.
His self-confidence grew, and when he saw an advert for a workshop in Uddevalla, it seemed only natural that they should seize the opportunity and make the move, although Laila was sad not to be closer to Agneta and her mother. Yet Vladek was finally going to turn his dream into reality and start his own business.
Here in Uddevalla they had found their dream house. They fell in love with it on first sight. It was quite plain and a bit run-down, but for a modest sum they were able to do some renovations and make changes so that it was now their paradise.
Life was good, and they were counting the days until they could hold their child in their arms. They would soon become a real family. Laila, Vladek, and the baby.
Chapter Four (#ulink_55685196-94c6-5a3e-83ab-cf8486783dd5)
Mellberg awoke to find a little person jumping on him. The only person who was allowed to wake him. Or jump on him, for that matter.
‘Get up, Grandpa. Up!’ Leo urged him, bouncing up and down on Mellberg’s big stomach. So Mellberg did as expected and grabbed the boy, tickling him so he howled with laughter.
‘Good Lord, what a noise you two are making!’ shouted Rita from the kitchen. That was also part of the routine, but he knew that she loved to hear their rowdy playtime in the morning.
‘Hush,’ said Mellberg, holding his finger to his lips and opening his eyes wide. Leo did the same. ‘There’s a wicked witch out in the kitchen. She eats little children, and she has probably already eaten both of your mothers. But there’s one way we can defeat her. Do you know what it is?’
Even though Leo knew full well what Mellberg was going to say, he shook his head.
‘We have to sneak in there and tickle her to death! But witches have extra sharp ears, which means we have to do our best to move quietly so she won’t hear us, or else … or else we’re done for!’ And Mellberg made a motion as if slashing his throat. Again Leo copied him. Then they tiptoed out of the bedroom and into the kitchen, where Rita was waiting for them.
‘ATTACK!’ yelled Mellberg, and he and Leo ran over to Rita to tickle her.
‘EEEK!’ cried Rita, laughing. ‘This is what I get for my sins!’ The two dogs, Ernst and Señorita, rushed out from under the table and began dashing back and forth, barking happily.
‘Wow, what a ruckus,’ said Paula. ‘It’s a miracle you haven’t been evicted long ago.’
Everyone fell silent. They hadn’t heard the front door of the flat open.
‘Hi, Leo. Did you sleep well?’ said Paula. ‘I was thinking of coming up here to have breakfast with all of you before going to the day-care centre.’
‘Is Johanna coming too?’ asked Rita.
‘No, she already left for work.’
Slowly Paula went over to the kitchen table and sat down. In her arms she held Lisa, who for once was sound asleep. Leo ran over to give her a hug, studying his little sister a bit anxiously. Ever since Lisa’s birth, Leo had been sleeping at ‘Granny and Grandpa Bertil’s place’. Partly to escape the baby’s colicky crying, but also because he slept so well curled up in Mellberg’s arms. The two of them had been inseparable from the beginning, since Mellberg had been present at Leo’s birth. Now that the boy had a sister and his mothers were so busy with her, he often sought out his grandfather, who conveniently lived in the flat upstairs.
‘Is there any coffee?’ asked Paula. Rita filled a big cup, added a dash of milk, and set the coffee on the table in front of her. Then she kissed both Paula and Lisa on the top of the head.
‘You look upset, love. This must be so hard for you. Why doesn’t the doctor do something?’
‘There’s not much he can do. It will pass in time. Or so he hopes.’ Paula took a big gulp of coffee.
‘But have you been getting any sleep at all?’
‘Not much. But I suppose it’s my turn now. Johanna can’t exactly show up for work after going night after night without any sleep,’ she said, sighing heavily. Then she turned to Mellberg. ‘So, how did it go yesterday?’
Mellberg was holding Leo on his lap and was totally focused on spreading jam on slices of Skogaholm rye bread. When Paula saw what her son was about to have for breakfast, she opened her mouth to say something, but then refrained.
‘That might not be the best for him,’ said Rita when she saw that Paula didn’t have the energy to protest.
