His mother had died of a heart attack when he was twelve years old. He had watched her die, and that was one of his best memories. Like a treasure hidden away inside of him, it was a memory that he took out only on special occasions. Then he would recall every detail, as if a film were playing before his eyes: the way she had clutched at her chest, how her face had crumpled with pain and surprise, and how she’d slowly collapsed on the floor. He hadn’t called for help. Instead, he had knelt down beside her so he could memorize every expression. He fixed his eyes on her face as it froze, and then her skin grew more and more blue from lack of oxygen as her heart began to shut down.
In the past he’d felt sexually aroused whenever he thought about the pain she’d endured at that moment and the power he’d held over her life and death. Einar wished that he could feel the same way now, but his body refused him that pleasure. No memory that he conjured up could give him that amazing feeling of blood pumping into his groin. These days his only pleasure was tormenting Helga.
He took a deep breath. ‘Helga! Helgaaa!’
The sounds downstairs stopped. She was probably sighing, and he enjoyed that image. Then he heard her footsteps on the stairs and Helga came into the room.
‘The bag needs to be changed again.’ He had purposely opened it so it would leak before he called her. He knew that she knew. It was all part of the game, because no matter what he did, she had no choice. He should never have married someone who assumed she had options, or someone with her own will. Women should not think they could decide for themselves. Men were superior in all respects, and a woman’s only task was to give birth to children. But Helga had not been very good at that either.
‘I know you’re doing this deliberately,’ said Helga, as if reading his mind.
He just looked at her without replying. It didn’t matter what she thought because she still had to wipe up the mess.
‘Who was that on the phone earlier?’ he asked.
‘It was Jonas. He was asking about Molly and Marta.’ She unbuttoned his shirt, making no effort to be gentle.
‘Oh? Why’s that?’ he said, fighting back an urge to slap her.
He missed being able to control her with a show of strength, using wordless threats to make her lower her gaze, comply and submit. But he would never allow her to control him. His body may have betrayed him, but mentally he was still stronger than she was.
‘They weren’t over in the stable. Some of the girls were waiting outside because they had a lesson, but Molly and Marta hadn’t turned up.’
‘Is it really that difficult to run a business properly?’ said Einar, flinching when Helga pinched him. ‘What the hell are you doing?’
‘Sorry. I didn’t mean to do that,’ said Helga. Her voice lacked the submissive tone he was used to hearing, but he decided not to say anything. He was too tired today.
‘So where are they?’
‘How would I know?’ snapped Helga as she went into the bathroom to fetch some water.
He gave a start. It really wasn’t acceptable for her to speak to him that way.
‘When did Jonas last see them?’ Einar called, listening for her reply over the sound of water running into a basin.
‘Early this morning. They were still asleep when he left on an emergency call out at the Leandersson farm. But when they stopped by here later in the morning, they didn’t mention going anywhere. And the car is still parked in front of the house.’
‘So they must be around here somewhere.’ Einar watched Helga carefully as she came back from the bathroom carrying the basin of water and a rag. ‘Marta needs to understand that she can’t just skip lessons like this. She’ll lose her students, and then what are they going to live on? I don’t want to criticize Jonas’s veterinary practice, but it’s never going to make them rich.’ He closed his eyes, enjoying the warm water on his skin and glad to be clean again.
‘They’ll manage,’ said Helga, wringing out the rag.
‘Well, they shouldn’t think they can borrow money from us.’
His voice got louder at the thought of having to part with any of the money he had so laboriously saved, money that Helga knew nothing about. It had amounted to quite a sum over the years. He had been good at what he did, and he’d never had expensive tastes. The plan was for the money to benefit Jonas some day, but Einar was nervous that his son, in a fit of generosity, might give some of it to his mother. Jonas was like him, but he also had a weak side that he must have inherited from Helga. He wasn’t aware of it, and that worried Einar.
‘All clean now?’ he asked as she put another shirt on him and buttoned it with fingers that bore the marks of all the housework she did.
‘Yes. Until the next time you decide to amuse yourself by tearing open the bag.’
She stepped back to look at him, and he felt annoyance creeping over him. What was going on with her? It was as if she were examining an insect under a magnifying glass. Her eyes were coldly appraising as she stared at him. Worst of all, there was no sign of fear in her expression.
For the first time in many years Einar felt something he hated: uncertainty. He was at a disadvantage, and he knew that he had to re-establish his position of power over her immediately.
‘Tell Jonas to come here,’ he said as harshly as he could. But Helga did not reply. She just kept looking at him.
Molly was so cold that her teeth were chattering. Her eyes had grown accustomed to the dark, and she could make out Marta’s shadowy shape. She wanted to crawl over to her mother to get warm, but something held her back. It was the same thing that always held her back.
She knew that Marta didn’t love her. It was something she’d known for as long as she could remember, and in reality she hadn’t ever missed her love. How could she miss something that she’d never had? Besides, she’d always had Jonas. He was the one who brushed the grit from her legs when she fell off her bicycle, and the one who chased away the monsters from under her bed as he tucked her in at night. He had helped her with her homework, explaining everything about the planets and the solar system. He had been all-knowing and all-powerful.
Molly had never understood how Jonas could be so obsessed with Marta. Sometimes she’d seen her parents exchange glances at the kitchen table and then she’d noticed the hunger in her father’s eyes. What was it that he saw? What had he seen in her the first time they met? That time she’d heard about so often.
‘I’m freezing,’ she said now, turning to look at the motionless figure in the dark. Marta didn’t reply, and Molly began to sob. ‘What happened? Why are we here? Where are we?’
She couldn’t stop the questions from spilling out. They had piled up inside her head, and uncertainty was mixed with fear. She gave another yank on the chain. A sore spot had formed on her ankle, and she winced with pain.
‘Stop that. It won’t do any good,’ said Marta.
‘But we can’t just give up.’ Out of sheer stubbornness, Molly tugged on the chain again, only to feel pain shoot up through her leg.
‘Who says we’re giving up?’ said Marta quietly.
How could she be so calm? Her composure only served to scare Molly even more, and she felt panic seize hold of her.
‘HELP!’ she cried, and her scream bounced off the walls. ‘We’re in here! HELP!’
A deafening silence set in after her screams faded.
‘Cut that out. It’s not going to help,’ said Marta in the same icy calm voice.
Molly wanted to hit and scratch her. She wanted to pull her hair and kick her. Anything to provoke a reaction other than that ghastly calm.
‘Someone will come and help us,’ said Marta at last. ‘But we have to wait. Everything depends on not losing control. Just stay quiet, and it will all work out.’
Molly didn’t understand what Marta meant. What she said sounded crazy. Who was going to find them here? But gradually her panic subsided. She knew Marta well enough to realize that if she said someone would help them, then that’s what woul
d happen. Molly scooted back against the wall and rested her head on her knees. She would do as Marta said.
‘My God, I’m tired,’ said Patrik, rubbing his face. Gösta had phoned just as he came in the door, probably wanting to hear how the meeting had gone. But after a moment of hesitation, Patrik had decided not to take the call, and he’d put his phone away. If there was an emergency, they would just have to come over to the house. He only had enough energy for one thing right now, and that was to discuss everything with Erica in peace and quiet.
‘Why don’t you just try to relax tonight?’ said Erica.
Patrik smiled. He’d already seen from her expression that she had something to tell him.
‘No, I need your help,’ he said, going into the living room to say hello to the children. All three jumped up and ran over to throw their arms around him. That was one of the many wonderful things about having kids: after being away all day, he was welcomed home as if he’d been on a long trip, sailing around the world.
‘Okay, that’s fine,’ said Erica, and he could hear how relieved she sounded. He wondered what she wanted to tell him, but first he needed to eat.
Half an hour later, his hunger assuaged, he was ready to listen to whatever it was his wife was so eager to discuss.
‘Today I realized that I’d forgotten to look into something.’ She sat down across from him. ‘I’d asked the prison staff whether Laila had ever received visitors or phone calls, and she hadn’t.’
‘I remember you telling me about that.’ Patrik looked at his wife in the glow from the candle on the kitchen table. She was so beautiful. Sometimes he seemed to forget that. Maybe it was because he’d become so used to looking at her that he didn’t react. He ought to tell her more often, say nice things to her, even though he knew that she was happy with the small moments they shared in their daily life – evenings spent sitting on the sofa with her head resting on his shoulder, Friday dinners with good food and a glass of wine, lying in bed and talking before they fell asleep. All those things that he also loved about their life.
‘Sorry, what were you saying?’ He realized that he’d been lost in his own thoughts. Fatigue was making it hard for him to stay focused.
‘Well, I totally forgot about another way that Laila might have stayed in contact with the outside world. It was so stupid of me, but luckily I remembered.’
‘Get to the point, sweetheart,’ he teased her.
‘Okay. I’m talking about the post. I forgot to find out if she’d ever received any post or sent any letters.’
‘Judging by your ill-concealed glee, you found out something. Am I right?’
Erica nodded eagerly. ‘Yes. But I have no idea what it means. Wait here. I want to show you what I found.’
She got up and went into the front hall to fetch her bag. Then she carefully took out the postcards and placed them on the kitchen table in front of Patrik.
As she sat down, she said, ‘These cards were sent to Laila, but she refused to accept them. In fact, she told the staff to throw them away. It’s lucky that they didn’t. As you can see, they all have pictures from Spain.’
‘Who sent them?’
‘I have no clue. They were postmarked in various towns in Sweden, but I can’t find any connection between the places.’
‘What does Laila say about them?’ He picked up one postcard, turned it over and looked at the address stamped in blue.
‘I haven’t talked to her yet. I wanted to try and find the connection first.’
‘Any theories?’
‘No. I’ve been thinking about these postcards ever since I got them. But aside from Spain, there doesn’t seem to be any common denominator.’
‘Doesn’t Laila have a sister who lives in Spain?’
Erica nodded and picked up another of the postcards. It showed a matador holding a red cape in front of a ferocious bull.
‘Yes, she does. But it seems that they haven’t had any contact in all these years, and besides, the cards were sent from Sweden, not Spain.’
Patrik frowned as he tried to think of any other possible links. ‘Have you looked on a map to see where these towns are located?’
‘No, but I was thinking of doing that. Come with me, and we’ll mark them on the map in my study.’
She strode out of the kitchen carrying the postcards in her hand. He got up more slowly and followed.
Upstairs Erica turned over the first of the postcards to look at the postmark and then at the map. When she found the town she was looking for, she put an ‘X’ next to the name. She did the same with the other three cards. Patrik watched in silence, leaning against the doorframe with his arms folded. From downstairs he could hear Emil’s father in an Astrid Lindgren film shouting as he chased his son towards the woodshed.
‘Okay, have a look,’ said Erica, stepping back to study the map. She had marked the hometowns of all the missing girls with red ink. She used blue ink to indicate the towns on the postmarks. ‘I still don’t see anything.’
Patrik came into the room and stood next to her. ‘No, I don’t see any pattern either.’
‘And nothing came out during the meeting today that might help?’ asked Erica without taking her eyes off the map.
‘No, nothing,’ he said, shrugging with resignation. ‘But since you’re already so involved, I thought I’d tell you what we discussed. Maybe you’ll notice something that we missed. Come on, let’s go back to the kitchen and talk.’
He left the room and slowly headed downstairs, as he continued to talk to her over his shoulder.
‘As I mentioned, I wanted to ask for your help. All the districts have videotaped their interviews with the families of the girls, and we now have copies of all the videos. Before we only had the written reports to go on. I’d like you to watch the interviews with me and tell me anything that comes to mind.’
Erica was right behind him on the stairs, and she put her hand on his shoulder.
‘Of course I’ll watch them. We can do that as soon as the kids go to bed. But first I want to hear what everybody said today at the meeting.’
They sat down at the kitchen table again, and for a moment Patrik wondered whether he should suggest that they raid the freezer to see what sort of ice cream they could find.
‘One of my colleagues in Göteborg wanted me to ask you again about your talk with Minna’s mother. We all have a feeling that her case is different, and even the smallest detail you can remember might help.’
‘Okay. But I told you about our conversation right after I talked to her, and by now it’s no longer fresh in my mind.’
‘That’s all right. Just tell me what you remember,’ said Patrik, silently cheering when he saw Erica go to the freezer and take out a container of Ben & Jerry’s ice cream. Sometimes he thought it was true that people who lived together for a long time learned to read each other’s minds.
‘You’re having ice cream?’ Maja had come into the kitchen and stood there glaring at her parents. ‘That’s not fair!’
Patrik watched as she took a deep breath, and he knew what was coming next.
‘Anton! Noel! Mamma and Pappa are having ice cream, and they’re not giving us any.’
He sighed and got up. He took out a family-size container of ice cream and got three bowls from the cupboard. Then he began serving up the ice cream. Parents had to choose their battles.
He had just filled the third bowl and was looking forward to helping himself to a big portion of chocolate fudge brownie when the doorbell rang. And it kept on ringing.
‘What now?’ He cast a glance at Erica and then went to open the door. There stood Martin, looking tense.
‘Why the hell don’t you answer your phone? We’ve been looking all over for you!’
‘What’s happened?’ said Patrik, feeling his stomach knot.
Martin gave him a worried look.
‘Jonas Persson rang the station. Molly and Marta have disappeared.’
Behind him Patrik heard Eri
ca gasp.
Jonas was sitting on the living-room sofa, feeling his anxiety grow. He didn’t know what the police were doing here. Shouldn’t they be out somewhere, searching? Incompetent fools.
As if he could read his thoughts, Patrik Hedström came over to place his hand on Jonas’s shoulder.
‘We’re going to search the surrounding area now, but we’ll wait to go into the woods until daylight. What we need you to do is make a list of all of Marta and Molly’s friends. And maybe you could start phoning some of them.’
‘I’ve already called everyone I could think of.’
‘Make the list anyway. There may be names you’d forgotten. And I’m going to have a word with your mother too, in case she recalls anything more about what they were planning to do this afternoon. Does Marta keep a daily calendar or diary? Does Molly? Anything could be useful at this point.’
‘Marta uses the diary on her mobile, which she probably took with her, even though she’s not answering. She never goes anywhere without it. Molly’s mobile is still in her room. And I have no idea if she keeps any sort of diary.’ He shook his head. What did he really know about Molly’s life? What did he know about his daughter?
‘Okay,’ said Patrik, again patting him on the shoulder. Jonas was surprised how comforting that was. His touch seemed to make him feel calmer.
‘Could I go with you to talk to my mother?’ He stood up to indicate that it wasn’t a request. ‘She gets easily nervous, and this has upset her.’
‘Sure, that’s fine,’ said Patrik, and headed for the door.
Jonas followed and they walked in silence across the yard to Helga and Einar’s house. There he strode ahead of Patrik to climb the front steps and pull open the door.
‘It’s just me, Mamma. And a police officer who wants to ask you a few questions.’
Helga came into the hall. ‘Police officer? What do the police want? Has something happened?’
‘Nothing to worry about,’ Patrik replied quickly. ‘We’re just here because Marta and Molly haven’t turned up, and Jonas hasn’t been able to get hold of them. But these sorts of situations usually end up being nothing but a misunderstanding. They’re probably visiting a friend and just forgot to tell anyone.’
The Ice Child Page 31
