The Girl in the Woods. Camilla Lackberg

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      Patrik took a deep breath. The morning sun had begun its climb upward, and the temperature had already risen so much that his shirt was sticking to his body with sweat.

      ‘I suggest we split up. I’ll go and meet Harald at the site where the girl was found. His group is waiting there. I’ll take some crime scene tape with me and cordon off the area. Bertil, ring Torbjörn in Uddevalla and ask him to come out here as fast as possible with a forensic team. When the search parties get back here, tell them the search has been called off. We don’t want any volunteers going out searching again. And tell the dog handlers and the helicopter pilots they can stop looking. Gösta, could you …’

      Patrik fell silent, giving his colleague a troubled look.

      Gösta nodded.

      ‘I’ll do it,’ he said.

      Patrik didn’t envy him the task. But it was only logical for him to ask Gösta to do it. He’d had the most contact with Nea’s parents, and Patrik knew he would be able to deal with the situation.

      ‘And ring the pastor too,’ said Patrik. Then he turned to Mellberg. ‘Bertil, go get Nea’s father as soon as he comes back with his group, so he doesn’t hear the news before Gösta has a chance to speak to him.’

      ‘That won’t be easy,’ said Mellberg, grimacing.

      Beads of sweat had formed on his upper lip.

      ‘I know. The news is going to spread like wildfire, but do your best.’

      Mellberg nodded. Patrik left his colleagues and headed for the woods. He still couldn’t understand it. The place where Stella had been found thirty years ago had been the first location they’d searched. Yet somehow they had missed her.

      After walking for ten minutes he caught sight of the three men who were waiting for him. In addition to Harald, there were two younger men, one of whom looked like a foreigner. Patrik shook hands and greeted them. Not one of them wanted to meet his eye.

      ‘Where is she?’ he asked.

      ‘Under the big tree trunk over there,’ said Harald, pointing. ‘That’s why we didn’t see her at first. There’s a hollow space underneath, and someone stuffed her body into it. You can only see her if you go close and move the tree trunk.’

      Patrik nodded. That explained it. But he cursed himself for not giving the order to search the area more thoroughly.

      ‘You know she’s back, right? For the first time since she was sent away.’

      Patrik didn’t have to ask who Harald meant. Everybody in town was aware of Marie Wall’s return, especially since she’d come back under such dramatic circumstances.

      ‘Yes, we know,’ he said without speculating any further about what her return might mean.

      But the thought had already occurred to him. It was certainly a strange coincidence, to say the least: no sooner had Marie returned than another little girl from the same farm turned up murdered, in the exact same spot where Stella was found.

      ‘I’m going to cordon off the area, and in a while our forensics team will inspect the crime scene.’

      He set down the bag he was carrying and took out two big rolls of blue-and-white police tape.

      ‘Should we go back?’ asked the younger man, who’d introduced himself as Johannes.

      ‘No, I’d like all of you to stay. Try not to move around too much. The techs will want to examine your clothing and shoes, since you’ve been walking around the crime scene.’

      The man who seemed to be a foreigner looked puzzled. Harald turned to him and said in halting English:

      ‘We stay here. Okay, Karim?’

      ‘Okay,’ said the man with a nod. Patrik realized he was one of the men Rolf had brought from the refugee centre.

      No one spoke for a few minutes. They were all struck by the surreal contrast between the reason for their presence and the idyllic surroundings. The birds carried on chirping merrily, as if nothing had happened, as if the dead body of a four-year-old girl wasn’t lying just metres away. The birdsong was accompanied by the rustle of the gentle breeze in the treetops. At this time of day, with the sun’s rays penetrating the trees to light the glade where they stood, it was heartbreakingly beautiful. Patrik’s gaze settled on a patch of chanterelles. Under normal circumstances, his heart would have leapt with excitement at the prospect of harvesting a few to take home. But right now picking mushrooms was the furthest thing from his mind.

      Patrik began unwinding the tape. The only thing he could do for the little girl was to carry out his job to the best of his ability. So he worked in silence, and tried to avoid looking at the tree trunk.

      Eva was standing at the sink, rinsing out the coffee pot. She’d lost count of how many pots she’d made during the night. The sound of someone quietly clearing his throat made her turn around. When she saw the look in Gösta’s eyes and his tense posture, the coffee pot slipped out of her grasp. The sound of breaking glass was instantly followed by a scream that sounded so close, yet so far away. A scream of grief and loss beyond all comprehension.

      The scream came from her own lips.

      She fell into Gösta’s arms. His hold on her was the only thing keeping her from collapsing. She gasped for breath as Gösta stroked her hair. She wished Nea was here, laughing as she ran around the room. She wished Nea had never been born, wished she’d never produced a child who would then be taken from her.

      Now all was lost. Everything had died with Nea.

      ‘I’ve notified the pastor,’ said Gösta, leading her over to a kitchen chair.

      He must see how broken I am inside, thought Eva, since he’s treating me so carefully.

      ‘Why did you do that?’ she asked, genuinely confused.

      What could a pastor do for her now? She’d never had a strong religious faith. And a child should be with her parents, not with some god up in heaven. What could a pastor say that she and Peter would find the least bit consoling?

      ‘Peter?’ she said, her voice sounding parched and brittle.

      Even her voice had died with Nea.

      ‘They’re looking for him. He’ll be here soon.’

      ‘No,’ she said, shaking her head. ‘Don’t do it. Don’t tell him.’

      Let him stay out there in the woods, she thought. Let him still have hope. Peter was the only one left now. She had died with Nea.

      ‘He has to be told, Eva,’ said Gösta, putting his arm around her again. ‘There’s no way to avoid it.’

      Eva nodded as she leaned against Gösta. Of course Peter couldn’t keep wandering through the woods like some kind of forest creature. They had to tell him, even though that would mean he too would die.

      She pulled away from Gösta and leaned forward to lay her head on the table. She’d been awake for twenty-four СКАЧАТЬ