The Ice Child. Camilla Lackberg

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СКАЧАТЬ 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.

      ‘There’s nothing wrong with Skogaholm rye bread,’ said Mellberg, defiantly taking a big bite. ‘I grew up eating this bread. And jam? It’s just berries. And berries have vitamins. Vitamins and oxidants. All good things for a growing boy.’

      ‘Anti-oxidants,’ Paula corrected him.

      But Mellberg wasn’t listening. What nonsense. Nobody needed to tell him anything about nutrition.

      ‘Okay, but how did it go yesterday?’ she repeated her question, realizing it was a losing battle to argue about breakfast food.

      ‘Excellent. I ran the press conference in my usual authoritative and intelligent manner. We need to buy copies of the newspapers today.’ He reached for yet another piece of bread. The first three were just for starters.

      ‘I’m sure you were amazing. I wouldn’t expect anything less.’

      Mellberg cast a suspicious glance at Paula to see if there was any hint of sarcasm, but her face remained impassive.

      ‘Aside from that, have you made any progress on the case? Are there any leads? Do you know where she came from? Where she was being held captive?’

      ‘No, nothing yet.’

      Lisa started squirming, and Paula’s expression showed how exhausted and frustrated she felt. Mellberg knew she hated to be left out of an investigation. It didn’t come easy to her, being away from work on maternity leave, and this initial period hadn’t exactly been tinged with maternal joy. He placed his hand on her knee and noticed through her pyjamas how thin she’d grown. She’d been practically living in pyjamas for weeks now.

      ‘I promise to keep you updated. But at the moment we don’t know much, and—’ He was interrupted by a shrill shriek from Lisa. It was astounding that a tiny body could produce such a piercing scream.

      ‘Okay, thanks,’ said Paula, getting up. Moving like a sleepwalker, she began pacing the kitchen as she hummed softly to Lisa.

      ‘Poor little thing,’ said Mellberg, taking another slice of bread. ‘It must be awful to have a tummy ache all the time. I’m lucky I was born with an iron stomach.’

      Patrik was standing in front of the whiteboard in the station’s kitchen. Next to it on the wall he’d tacked up a map of Sweden, and he had inserted pins to mark the places where the girls had disappeared. He suddenly had a flashback to a case from several years earlier, when they’d also stuck pins in a map of Sweden. Back then they’d successfully solved the case. He hoped they’d be able to do the same this time.

      The investigative materials that Annika had collected from the other districts were now sorted into four piles on the table, one for each missing girl.

      ‘It’s impossible for us to proceed as if Victoria’s death is an isolated case. We need to make sure we stay updated regarding the other disappearances.’

      Martin and Gösta nodded. Mellberg had arrived at the station but had almost immediately gone back out to take Ernst for a walk, which usually meant that he would be stopping at the local bakery. He’d most likely be gone for at least an hour. It was no coincidence that Patrik had chosen this particular moment to review the case with his other colleagues.

      ‘Have you heard anything from Pedersen?’ asked Gösta.

      ‘No, but he said he’d phone as soon as he finished the autopsy,’ replied Patrik. He picked up the first stack of documents. ‘I know we’ve gone through everything before, but I want to go over the information about the other girls again, in chronological order. Maybe some new idea will turn up.’

      He leafed through the papers and then turned to write the key points on the whiteboard.

      ‘Sandra Andersson. Fourteen years old, about to turn fifteen when she disappeared two years ago. Lived in Strömsholm with her mother, father, and younger sister. The parents own a clothing shop. No sign of any family problems. According to everyone interviewed, Sandra was a conscientious teenager who received excellent marks in school. She was planning to become a doctor.’

      Patrik held up the first photograph. Sandra was a brunette. Pretty in a quiet sort of way, with intelligent eyes and a serious expression.

      ‘What were her other interests?’ asked Martin. He took a sip of his coffee but grimaced at the taste and set the cup back on the table.

      ‘Nothing special. She seemed to be totally focused on her studies.’

      ‘And nothing suspicious that occurred before she disappeared?’ asked Gösta. ‘No anonymous phone calls? Nobody sneaking about in the bushes? No letters arriving in the post?’

      ‘Letters?’ said Patrik. ‘For someone like Sandra, it would be more likely that she’d get emails or text messages. Kids her age hardly know what a letter or a postcard is any more.’

      Gösta snorted. ‘I know that. I’m not that old and decrepit. But who’s to say that the perpetrator is so up on things? Whoever did this might belong to the snail-mail generation. You didn’t think of that, did you?’ With a triumphant smile Gösta leaned back and crossed his legs.

      Patrik reluctantly agreed that his colleague had a point.

      ‘Nothing like that was reported,’ he said. ‘And the police in Strömsholm have been just as thorough in their investigation as we have. They’ve talked to her friends and classmates, searched her room and her computer, and looked into any other contacts she may have had. But they haven’t found anything out of the ordinary.’

      ‘That in itself seems fishy. A teenager who hasn’t got into the slightest mischief?’ muttered Gösta. ‘Sounds unhealthy, if you ask me.’

      ‘Personally, I think it sounds like a parent’s dream,’ said Patrik, thinking with dread about what might be awaiting him and Erica when Maja reached her teenage years. He’d seen too much in his line of work, and he felt his stomach clench at the thought of what lay ahead.

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