The Ice Child

‘A very apt analogy.’

Martin set his cup in the dishwasher. As he was about to leave the kitchen he stopped and gave Annika a hug.

‘Thank you,’ he said. ‘Now I have to be off to interview Tyra Hansson. She should be home from school by this hour.’

With a gloomy expression Ernst followed him out of the room. As far as he was concerned, the coffee break had been a big disappointment.

FJÄLLBACKA 1967

Life was wonderful. Amazing and totally unreal, yet so natural all the same. Everything had changed on that hot summer day. When the circus left Fjällbacka, Vladek did not go with it. He and Laila had agreed to meet on the evening of the last performance, and it was tacitly understood that he would then pack up his belongings and go back to her flat. He left everything behind for her. His mother and brothers. His life and his culture. His whole world.

Since then they had been happier than she could ever have imagined. Every night they fell asleep in each other’s arms, snuggled together in her bed, which was much too small, and yet there was space enough for the two of them and their love. The entire flat was actually too small. It was only a bedsit with a tiny kitchen in one corner, but oddly enough Vladek was content. They made do with the space they had, and day by day their love for one another grew.

And now they would need space for one more. She placed her hand on her stomach. The slight swelling was still hardly visible, but she couldn’t resist running her hand over it now and then. She had an urge to pinch herself to make sure this was real. That she and Vladek were actually going to be parents.

She saw Vladek come walking across the courtyard outside the block of flats, at exactly the same time he always did after a day’s work. She still felt as if an electric current passed through her every time she saw him. He seemed to sense her gaze, because he raised his head to look up at their window. With a big smile, filled with love, he waved to her. She waved back as she again caressed her stomach.

Chapter Three

‘How is Pappa today?’ asked Jonas. He kissed his mother on the cheek and sat down at the kitchen table, trying to muster a smile.

Helga didn’t seem to hear him.

‘It’s so awful what happened to that stable girl,’ she said instead, setting in front of him a plate with several big slices of freshly baked sponge cake. ‘It must be terribly hard for all of you.’

Jonas picked up the piece on top and took a big bite. ‘You spoil me, Mamma. It almost feels like you’re trying to fatten me up.’

‘I know. But you were always such a skinny little boy. So thin we could count your ribs.’

‘Uh-huh. I’ve heard you say that a thousand times, how tiny I was when I was born. But now I’m almost six foot two, and there’s certainly no problem with my appetite.’

‘It’s good for you to eat, considering how busy you are. All that running about. That can’t be healthy.’

‘Right. Exercise is known to be a real health hazard. Didn’t you ever do any vigorous exercising? Not even when you were young?’ Jonas reached for another piece of cake.

‘When I was young? You make it sound like I’m ancient.’ Helga spoke sternly, but she could feel a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. Jonas could always make her smile.

‘No, not ancient. I think “antique” is the word I was going for.’

‘Stop that now,’ she said, giving him a swat on the shoulder. ‘If you don’t watch out, there won’t be any more sponge cake, or any home-cooked meals either. Then you’ll have to make do with whatever Marta puts on the table.’

‘Good Lord, then Molly and I would starve to death.’ He took the last piece of cake from the plate.

‘It must be hard for the girls in the stable to hear that one of their friends suffered such a horrible end,’ Helga went on, wiping some invisible crumbs from the table.

The kitchen was always kept in perfect order. Jonas couldn’t recall ever seeing it messy, and his mother never stopped moving as she cleaned, baked, cooked, and took care of his father. Jonas looked about. His parents weren’t keen on modernizing anything, so the room had looked exactly the same all these years. The wallpaper, cupboards, linoleum, and furniture – everything was just as he remembered from his childhood. The refrigerator and worktop were the only things they had reluctantly replaced. But he liked the fact that so little had changed. It gave his life a sense of continuity.

‘It was quite a shock, of course. Marta and I are going to have a talk with the girls this afternoon,’ he said. ‘But don’t worry about it, Mamma.’

‘No. No, I won’t.’ She picked up the plate, which now held only a few crumbs. ‘How did it go with the cow yesterday?’

‘Good. It was rather complicated, but—’

‘JOOONAS!’ His father’s voice thundered from upstairs. ‘Are you there?’

His displeasure ricocheted off the walls, and Jonas noticed how his mother instantly clenched her jaw.

‘Best if you go up,’ she said as she began wiping the table with a wet rag. ‘He’s cross because you didn’t come to see him yesterday.’

Jonas nodded. As he climbed the stairs he could feel his mother’s gaze following him.

Erica was still feeling a bit shaky when she arrived at the day-care centre. It was only two o’clock, and she usually didn’t fetch the children until four. But after her experience in the cellar of the abandoned house she was longing to see them so much that she decided to drive straight to the centre. She needed to see her kids, give them a hug, and hear their bubbly voices, which could make her forget everything else.

‘Mamma!’ Anton came running towards her with his arms outstretched. He was dirty from head to toe, with one ear sticking out from under his cap. He looked so sweet that Erica thought her heart would burst. She squatted down and held out her arms to draw him close. Her clothes were going to get dirty too, but that didn’t matter.

‘Mamma!’ She heard another little voice calling from the playground, and Noel also came running. He had on red overalls instead of the blue ones that Anton wore, but his cap was crooked, just like his brother’s. They were so alike, and yet so different.

Erica set Noel on her lap too, hugging another dirty child who burrowed his face against her neck. Noel’s nose was ice cold, and she shivered as she laughed.

‘Hey, you little ice cube, are you trying to warm up that nose of yours on my neck?’

She pinched his nose, making him laugh. Then he lifted up her jumper and pressed his cold and grubby mittened hands against her stomach, evoking a shrill scream from Erica. Both boys howled with laughter.

‘What a couple of rowdy boys you are! Hot baths for the pair of you as soon as we get home.’ She set them down, stood up, and straightened her jumper. ‘Come on, kids, let’s go and fetch your sister,’ she said, pointing towards Maja’s part of the school. The twins loved to go over there because it gave them a chance to roughhouse with the older children in Maja’s group. And Maja was always delighted to see them. Even though her little brothers could be such pests, she always showered them with love.

When they arrived home, the cleaning-up process began. Usually this was a task that Erica hated, but today she didn’t care how much dirt and debris got scattered over the floor. And she didn’t let it bother her when Noel immediately lay down and began screaming about something only he understood. None of this was of any importance after she’d spent time in the cellar of the Kowalski house and realized the horror that Louise must have experienced as she sat there, chained to the wall in the dark.

Her own children lived in the light. Her children were the light. Noel’s shrieks, which usually made her cringe, had no effect today. She merely reached down to stroke his hair, which surprised him so much that he stopped crying.

‘Come on, let’s go put you in the bathtub. Then we’ll thaw out a whole bunch of Grandma’s cinnamon buns and eat them with hot chocolate while we watch TV. Doesn’t that sound like a good idea?’ Erica smiled at her children as they sat on the wet floor in the front hall. ‘And let’s forget about making dinner tonight. We’ll just eat all the rest of the ice cream in the freezer instead. And you can stay up as long as you want.’

Not a sound came from the children. Maja gave her mother a worried look and then went over to touch her forehead.

‘Are you sick, Mamma?’

Erica couldn’t help laughing.

‘No, sweetheart,’ she said, and then drew all three kids close. ‘Mamma isn’t sick or crazy. I just love you so much.’

She gave them a big hug, wanting to hold them even tighter. But in her mind she saw a different child. A little girl who was sitting all alone in the dark.

Ricky had hidden her secret deep inside, in a special corner of his heart. Ever since Victoria had gone missing, he had turned that secret over and over, studying it from all angles and trying to work out whether it might have had anything to do with her disappearance. He didn’t think so, but there was still a slight doubt in his mind. Think it over again. That phrase kept whirling through his head, especially at night when he lay in bed and stared up at the ceiling. Think it over again. The question was whether he’d done the wrong thing, whether it had been a terrible mistake to keep quiet. It would be so easy to let the secret remain hidden, buried for ever, just as Victoria was now going to be buried in the cemetery.

‘Ricky?’

Gösta’s voice made him flinch as he sat there on the sofa. He had almost forgotten about the police officer and all his questions.

‘Have you thought of something else that might be relevant to the investigation? Now that it turns out Victoria may have been held captive somewhere nearby?’

Gösta’s voice sounded gentle and sorrowful, and Ricky could see how tired he was. He had grown fond of this older policeman who had been their family liaison officer during the past few months. And he knew that Gösta liked him too. Ricky had always got on well with grown-ups. Ever since he was a child, he’d been told that his was an old soul. Maybe that was true. Regardless, he felt as if he’d aged a thousand years since yesterday. All joy and anticipation about the life that lay ahead of him had vanished the moment Victoria died.

He shook his head.

‘No, I’ve already told you everything I know. Victoria was an ordinary girl, with ordinary friends and ordinary interests. And we’re just an ordinary family. Perfectly normal …’ He smiled and glanced at his mother, but she didn’t return his smile. The sense of humour that had always united the family had also died with Victoria.

‘I heard from a neighbour that you’ve asked the public for help in searching the woods,’ said his father. ‘Do you think that will produce any results?’ Markus’s face was ashen with exhaustion, but there was a spark of hope in his eyes as he looked at Gösta.

‘We hope so. Lots of people have volunteered to help, so with luck we might find something. She must have been held somewhere.’

‘What about the other girls? The ones we read about in the newspapers?’ Helena reached for her coffee cup. Her hand was shaking, and Ricky’s heart ached to see how thin his mother had become. She had always been slender and petite, but now she had lost so much weight that her bones were clearly visible under her skin.

‘We’re continuing to work with the other police districts. Everyone is determined to solve this case, and we’re helping each other by exchanging information. We’re going to put all our resources into finding whoever kidnapped Victoria and presumably the other girls too.’

‘I mean …’ Helena hesitated. ‘Do you think the same thing …’ She couldn’t bear to finish the sentence, but Gösta knew what she was asking.

‘We don’t know. But it’s certainly possible that …’ He too couldn’t bring himself to say it out loud.

Ricky swallowed hard. He didn’t want to think about what Victoria had gone through. But the images from the photographs kept creeping into his mind, and he felt nausea rise into his throat. Her beautiful blue eyes, which had always held such warmth. That was how he wanted to remember them. He couldn’t stand to think about the horror of what had happened to his sister.

‘We’re going to hold a press conference this afternoon,’ said Gösta after a moment. ‘And I’m afraid the reporters will probably show up here too. The disappearance of the girls has been national news for a while, and this will only … Well, I just want you to be prepared.’

‘They’ve already been here and rung the bell a few times. And we’ve stopped answering the phone,’ said Markus.

‘I can’t understand why they won’t leave us in peace.’ Helena shook her head. Her dark hair, cut in a page-boy style, swayed around her face. ‘Don’t they realize …’

‘No, unfortunately they don’t,’ said Gösta, standing up. ‘I need to go back to the station now. But don’t hesitate to call. You can reach me anytime, day or night. And I promise to keep you informed.’

He turned to Ricky and placed his hand on the boy’s arm.

‘Take care of your mother and father.’

‘I’ll do my best.’ He felt the weight of responsibility settle on his shoulders. But Gösta was right. As things stood, he was stronger than either of his parents. He was the one who would have to keep everything together.

Molly felt the sting of tears in her eyes. Disappointment filled her body, and she stomped her foot so hard on the stable floor that a cloud of dust rose up.

‘You’re a sodding idiot!’

‘Watch your language, please.’ Marta’s voice was ice cold, and Molly shrank back. But her anger was so great that she couldn’t stop herself.

‘But I want to go! I’m going to talk to Jonas about it too.’

‘I know you want to go,’ said her mother, crossing her arms. ‘But in the circumstances, it’s not a good idea. And your father will agree with me.’

‘What do you mean, “in the circumstances”? It’s not my fault that such awful things happened to Victoria. Why should I have to suffer?’

Tears were now running down Molly’s face, and she wiped them off on the sleeve of her jacket. She peered up at Marta from under her fringe to see if her tears would have any effect, though it seemed unlikely. Her mother merely stared at her with that guarded expression of hers, which Molly hated. Sometimes she wished that Marta would get furious instead, that she would scream and swear and show some emotion. But she never lost her composure. She never gave any sign of yielding.

Molly’s tears poured out, her nose was running, and her jacket sleeve was now soaked.

‘But it’s the first competition of the season! I don’t understand why I can’t participate, just because of what happened to Victoria. I’m not the one who killed her!’

Slap! Marta’s hand struck her cheek before she even saw it coming. Molly touched her face in disbelief. It was the first time her mother had hit her. The first time anyone had ever hit her. Her tears stopped abruptly as she stared at Marta, who was again utterly calm. She stood there motionless, her arms crossed over the green quilted riding vest she wore.

‘That’s enough now,’ she said. ‘You can stop begging like some spoiled brat and behave decently.’ Marta’s words cut just as deep as the slap. Molly had never been called a spoiled brat. Well, the other girls in the stable might have called her that behind her back, but that was only because they were jealous.

Still holding her hand to her cheek, Molly kept on staring at Marta. Then she turned on her heel and ran out of the stable. The other girls began whispering to each other when they saw her crying as she ran across the yard, but she didn’t care. They probably thought she was crying about Victoria, like everyone else had been doing since yesterday.

Molly ran for home, going around back to the door to her father’s veterinary clinic, but it was locked. There were no lights on, and Jonas wasn’t there. Molly wondered where he could be as she stood in the snow for a moment, stomping her feet to stay warm. Then she took off running again.

She tore open the door to her grandparents’ house.

‘Grandma!’

‘Good Lord, where’s the fire?’ Helga came out to the front hall, drying her hands on a dish towel.

‘Is Jonas here? I need to talk to him.’

‘Calm down. You’re crying so hard I can barely understand you. Is this about the girl that Marta found yesterday?’

Molly shook her head. Helga led her into the kitchen and got her to sit down at the table.

‘I … I …’ Molly stammered, but then she had to stop and take several deep breaths. Just being in her grandmother’s kitchen helped her to calm down. In this house, time stood still. Nothing ever changed in here while outside the world continued to rush onward.

‘I need to talk to Jonas. Marta says I can’t take part in the competition on the weekend.’ She hiccupped and then fell silent so her grandmother had time to take in how unfair the situation was.

Helga sat down. ‘Well, Marta likes to make the decisions. You’ll have to wait and see what your father says. Is it an important competition?’

‘Yes, it is. But Marta says it wouldn’t be appropriate to compete after what happened to Victoria. And of course I think it’s sad, but I don’t see why that’s any reason for me to miss the competition. That cow Linda Bergvall is bound to win if I’m not there, and then she’ll be so annoying, even though she knows I could have beat her. I’ll die if I’m not allowed to go!’ With a dramatic expression, she leaned over the kitchen table, rested her face on her arms, and began to sob.

Helga patted her gently on the shoulder. ‘Now, now, it’s not the end of the world, and your parents are the ones who make the decisions. They’d do anything for you, but if they think you shouldn’t compete … well, then there’s not much to be done about it.’

‘But don’t you think Jonas would understand?’ said Molly, giving Helga a pleading look.

‘I’ve known your father since he was this big,’ said Helga, holding her thumb and index finger only a centimetre apart. ‘And I’ve known your mother for a long time too. Believe me when I say that it’s impossible to make them change their minds, once they’ve made a decision. So if I were you, I’d stop complaining and look forward to the next competition instead.’

Molly dried her face on the paper napkin that Helga handed her.

She blew her nose and then got up to toss the napkin in the bin. The worst thing was that her grandmother was right. It was hopeless to try and talk to her parents once they’d decided. But she was still planning to try. Maybe Jonas would take her side, in spite of everything.

It had taken Patrik a whole hour to thaw out, and it was going to take Mellberg even longer. It had been sheer madness to go out in the woods when the temperature was minus seventeen degrees Celsius and he was wearing thin shoes and only a windproof jacket instead of a proper winter coat. Mellberg’s lips were blue as he stood in a corner of the conference room.

‘How’s it going, Bertil? Are you still cold?’ asked Patrik.

‘Bloody hell,’ said Mellberg, slapping his arms against his body. ‘I could use a stiff whisky. That might warm me up from the inside.’

Patrik shuddered at the thought of an intoxicated Bertil Mellberg at the press conference. Although that might actually be an improvement over the sober version.

‘So what approach do you think we should take?’ Patrik asked.

‘I thought I’d take charge, and you can back me up. The reporters like to see a strong leader, someone they can turn to in situations like this.’ Mellberg tried to sound as authoritative as he could with his teeth chattering.

‘Of course,’ said Patrik, sighing to himself so heavily that he thought Mellberg might hear. Always the same story. Getting Mellberg to do anything useful in an investigation was about as easy as trying to catch flies with a pair of chopsticks. But the minute he had the chance to step into the spotlight, or claim credit for work done by the rest of the team, no one could keep Bertil away.

‘How about letting in the hyenas?’ said Mellberg, turning to Annika, who got up and went over to the door. She had made all the arrangements while they were out in the woods. She’d given Mellberg a quick rundown of the most important points and also printed out key words on a piece of paper for him. Now they could only cross their fingers and hope that he didn’t embarrass them any more than necessary.

The journalists shambled into the room, and Patrik greeted several that he knew – some from the local media and some who worked at the national level, reporters that he’d run into on various occasions. As usual there were also a few new faces. The newspapers seemed to have a high turnover rate where journalists were concerned.

They all sat down, exchanging a few murmured remarks, while the photographers good-naturedly jostled for the best positions. Patrik hoped that Mellberg’s lips wouldn’t look quite so blue in the photos; at the moment he looked as though he belonged in the morgue.

‘Everybody here?’ said Mellberg, shivering. The reporters had already started waving their hands in the air, but he motioned for them to stop. ‘We’ll take questions in a moment, but first I want to turn over the floor to Patrik Hedström, who will give you a brief report on what has happened.’

Patrik gave his boss a surprised look. Maybe Mellberg realized after all that he didn’t have a grasp of the big picture, which was what this crowd of reporters needed to hear.

‘Thank you. All right then,’ Patrik replied. He cleared his throat and came over to stand next to Mellberg. He paused to gather his thoughts, trying to work out what he should tell them and what he should withhold. An unguarded word to the media could destroy so much, and yet the journalists were their link to one of the greatest assets any investigation could have: the public. He needed to give the press enough information to trigger a ripple effect that would start tips coming in from ordinary people. There was always someone who had seen or heard something that might turn out to be relevant even though that person might not think so. But handing out the wrong information, or revealing too many details, could give the perpetrator an advantage. If he or she knew what sort of leads the police were following, it would be easier to hide their tracks or simply refrain from making the same mistake next time. And that was everyone’s greatest fear right now, that this horrific crime would be repeated. A serial criminal rarely stopped of his own accord. Most likely not in this instance, at any rate. Patrik had a bad feeling about this one.

‘Yesterday Victoria Hallberg was found near a wooded area east of Fjällbacka. She was then struck by a car, and we are convinced it was an accident. She was taken to Uddevalla hospital, where all possible efforts were made to save her life. Unfortunately, her injuries were too severe and at 11.14 she was pronounced dead.’ He paused and reached for a glass of water that Annika had placed on the table. ‘We have searched the area where she was found, and I’d like to thank all the volunteers from Fjällbacka who turned up to help. There is little more I can tell you. We are continuing to cooperate with other police districts investigating similar cases. We need to find the girls who have gone missing, and we need to catch the person who kidnapped them.’ Patrik took a sip of water. ‘Any questions?’

Everyone instantly stuck their hand in the air, and several reporters began speaking at once. The photographers in the front of the room had started snapping pictures as Patrik spoke, and he had to restrain an urge to smooth down his hair. It was always a strange feeling to see big pictures of his own face printed in the evening papers.