The Ice Child Read online

  ‘I’m positive we can still find some,’ said his father soothingly, placing his hand on Ricky’s. ‘That’s a great idea. Everything you’ve suggested is great. Including the black dress. I’m sure Mamma knows where it is, and she can iron it. And we’ll ask Aunt Anneli to make several smörgåstårtor for the occasion. Victoria always loved the ones she made. We were planning to serve them at her graduation from school this summer, and …’ For a moment he seemed to lose his train of thought. ‘Anyway, I know we can still buy julmust. That’ll be great, just great.’

  No, it won’t, Ricky wanted to bellow. They were sitting here talking about putting his sister in a coffin and burying her in the ground. Nothing was ever going to be good again.

  Deep inside, the secret was still chafing. He thought for sure everyone would be able to see that he was hiding something, but his parents didn’t seem to notice. They stared vacantly out of the window as they sat here in the small kitchen with the lingonberry-patterned curtains that Helena loved so much. The curtains that Ricky and Victoria had always tried to get her to replace.

  Would everything change once they awoke from their trance? Would they then see and understand? Ricky knew that sooner or later he would be forced to speak to the police. But would his parents be able to bear the truth?

  Sometimes Marta felt like the horrible orphanage supervisor in Annie. Girls, girls, everywhere nothing but girls.

  ‘Liv was allowed to ride Blackie three times in a row!’ cried Ida, her cheeks bright red as she came striding across the yard. ‘It should be my turn now.’

  Marta sighed. All these constant quarrels. There was a definite hierarchy in the stable, and she saw, heard, and understood more of the girls’ arguments than they knew. But today she had no patience for such things.

  ‘You’ll have to settle this dispute yourselves. Don’t come to me with such trivial matters.’

  She saw Ida flinch. The girls were used to the fact that Marta was stern, but she seldom lashed out in anger.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ Ida hastened to say, though her apology didn’t sound sincere. She was a spoiled girl who frequently whined, and she ought to learn better manners, but Marta had to be practical. They were dependent on the income from the riding school. They could never live solely on what Jonas earned as a veterinarian, and the girls – and by extension, their parents – were her customers. So she was forced to handle them with kid gloves.

  ‘Forgive me, Ida,’ she said now. ‘I’m just upset because of what happened to Victoria. I hope you understand.’ She gritted her teeth and then smiled at the girl, who immediately relaxed.

  ‘Of course I do. It’s so awful. The fact that she’s dead and all.’

  ‘Okay, let’s go and have a talk with Liv, and you can ride Blackie today. Unless you’d rather ride Scirocco?’

  Ida’s face lit up with joy. ‘Can I really? Isn’t Molly going to ride him?’

  ‘Not today,’ said Marta, her expression hardening at the thought of her daughter, who was in her room brooding over the cancelled competition.

  ‘Then I’d rather ride Scirocco, and Liv can have Blackie,’ said Ida generously.

  ‘Perfect. So that’s decided.’ Marta put her arm around Ida and they headed into the stable. The smell of horse filled the air. This was one of the few places in the world where she felt at home, where she felt like a real person. The only one who had ever loved the smell as much as she did was Victoria. Every time she had stepped inside, a blissful look would come into her eyes, a look that Marta shared. She was surprised at how much she missed the girl. Victoria’s death had struck her with a force that was unexpected and confusing. She paused in the middle of the stable aisle, only vaguely aware of Ida triumphantly calling to Liv, who was grooming Blackie in his stall.

  ‘Go ahead and ride him today. Marta says I can ride Scirocco instead.’ The spiteful glee in her voice was all too evident.

  Marta closed her eyes and pictured Victoria. Her dark hair flying around her face as she raced across the stable yard. The way she was able, with gentle firmness, to get all the horses to obey her slightest command. Marta had the same inexplicable power over horses, but there was a big difference. Horses obeyed Marta because they respected her, but also because they feared her. They had obeyed Victoria because of her gentle handling combined with a strong will. And this contradiction had always fascinated Marta.

  ‘Why does she get to ride Scirocco? Why can’t I?’

  Marta opened her eyes to find Liv standing in front of her, arms crossed.

  ‘Because you don’t seem especially willing to share Blackie. So you can ride him today, just as you wanted. And then everyone will be happy.’ She could tell that she was about to lose her temper again. Her job would have been much easier if she’d only had the horses to worry about.

  To make matters worse, she had her own little brat to deal with. Jonas hated it when she called Molly a brat, even though she pretended to do it in fun. She couldn’t understand how he could be so blind. Molly was becoming insufferable, but Jonas refused to listen, and there was nothing Marta could do about it.

  Ever since they first met, she had known that he was the puzzle piece that was missing in her life. After exchanging only a single glance, they realized they belonged together. She had seen her own soul reflected in his, and he had done the same. And they would always feel that way. The only friction between them was caused by Molly.

  Jonas had threatened to leave Marta if she refused to have a child, so she had relented. In reality, she hadn’t thought he was serious. He knew as well as she did that if they split up, they would never find anyone else who understood them in the same way. But she didn’t dare take the risk. She had found her soul mate, and for the first time in her life she had submitted to another person’s will.

  When Molly was born, things had turned out just as she had feared. From that point on she’d been forced to share Jonas with someone else. A huge piece had been stolen from her by someone who initially possessed neither will nor identity. She couldn’t understand it.

  Jonas had loved Molly from the very first second. His love for the child was so natural and unconditional that Marta hardly recognized him. And from that moment a wedge had been driven between them.

  Marta went over to help Ida with Scirocco. She knew that Molly would be furious when she heard that someone else was going to ride the horse, but after her daughter’s sulky behaviour, the thought gave Marta a certain satisfaction. No doubt Jonas would be cross with her too, but she knew how to make him think of other things. The next equestrian competition was in a week’s time, and by then he would be putty in her hands.

  What Paula was attempting to do was no easy task, and Gösta couldn’t help worrying about her. She had looked so pale.

  Restlessly he leafed through the papers on his desk. It was frustrating that the investigation had stalled. None of the work they’d done since Victoria disappeared had produced any results, and now they were almost out of ideas. The interview with Jonas hadn’t proved useful either. Gösta had insisted that he go over everything one more time, in the hope he might say something different from his first statement. But Jonas had recited exactly the same details as before, with no discrepancies. And when he heard that ketamine might have been used on Victoria, his reaction had seemed both genuine and entirely believable. Gösta sighed. He might as well spend some time on the other police reports that were gathering dust on his desk.

  It was mostly petty crime: stolen bicycles, shoplifting, arguments between neighbours over stupid matters and exaggerated claims. But certain reports had been neglected too long, and he was a bit embarrassed about that.

  He got out the file from the bottom of the stack, which meant that it was the oldest. A suspected break-in. Or was it? A woman by the name of Katarina Mattsson had discovered mysterious footprints in her garden, and one evening she saw someone standing on her property, staring into the dark. Annika was the one who had taken the report, and as far as Gösta knew
, the woman hadn’t been heard from again. So the matter had probably been resolved. But he should still follow up on it, and he decided to ring her later.

  He was just about to put down the file when something caught his eye. He looked at the address of the woman, and thoughts began whirling through his head. It could be a coincidence, of course, but maybe not. He read through the report again, thinking hard. Then he made up his mind.

  A short time later he was in his car, driving towards Fjällbacka. The address he was heading for was in a residential neighbourhood called Sumpan, though he had no idea why it had been given that name. He turned on to the quiet street where the gardens were small and the houses stood close together. He knew it was possible that she might not be home, but when he found the house he saw there were lights on in the windows. Tense with anticipation, he rang the bell. If he was right, he might have discovered something important. Gösta glanced at the house on the left but didn’t see anyone. He hoped no one would choose this moment to look outside.

  He heard footsteps approaching and then a woman opened the door and gave him a surprised look. Gösta quickly introduced himself and explained why he was there.

  ‘Oh, that was a long time ago. I almost forgot about it. Come on in.’

  She stepped aside to let him in. Two boys who looked to be about five years old peeked out from the next room, and Katarina nodded in their direction.

  ‘My son Adam and his friend Julius.’

  The boys’ faces lit up when they saw Gösta standing there in his uniform. He waved awkwardly, and they rushed forward to look him up and down.

  ‘Are you a real policeman? Do you have a gun? Have you ever shot anyone? Do you have handcuffs with you? Do you have a radio so you can talk to other policemen?’

  Gösta laughed and held up his hands.

  ‘Take it easy, boys. Yes, I’m a real policeman. Yes, I have a gun, but I didn’t bring it with me. And I’ve never shot anyone. Now what else did you ask me? Oh, yes. I do have a radio so I can call for backup if the two of you get too rowdy. And here are my handcuffs. You can have a look at them later, if you like. But right now I need to talk to Adam’s mother for a moment.’

  ‘Really? We can look at them? Okay!’ The boys jumped up and down with joy, and Katarina shook her head.

  ‘You’ve really made their day. Actually, their whole year. But listen to me, boys, you heard what Gösta said. You can look at the handcuffs and radio later, but first he and I need to have a talk. So why don’t you go back to the film you were watching, and we’ll call you when we’re done. Okay?’

  ‘Okay,’ said the boys as they went back to the TV, giving Gösta one last admiring glance.

  ‘I’m sorry for the way they grilled you,’ said Katarina, leading the way to the kitchen.

  ‘It was fun,’ said Gösta as he followed her. ‘Besides, I should enjoy it while it lasts. In ten years they may be screaming “you dirty cop” at me instead.’

  ‘Oh, don’t say that. I’m already dreading those delightful teenage years.’

  ‘It’ll be fine. I’m sure you and your husband have taught him good manners. Do you have other children?’ Gösta sat down at the table. The kitchen looked a bit worn, but it was bright and cheerful.

  ‘No, just Adam. But we’re not … I mean, we divorced when Adam was only a year old, and my ex-husband isn’t interested in being part of his life. He has a new wife and kids, and apparently he doesn’t have enough love to go around. The few times Adam went over there to visit, he felt like he was in the way.’

  She was standing with her back to Gösta as she measured coffee from a tin, but now she turned around and shrugged apologetically.

  ‘Sorry for dumping all of that on you. Sometimes the bitterness just spills out. But we’re doing fine, Adam and I. And if his father can’t see that Adam is an amazing little boy, that’s his loss.’

  ‘No need to apologize,’ said Gösta. ‘It sounds like you have good reason to feel disappointed.’

  What bloody fools some men are, he thought. How could anyone just cast a child aside and devote himself to a new bunch of kids? He watched as Katarina set two cups on the table. She had a pleasant sense of calm about her. He thought she must be about thirty-five or so, and he remembered from the police report that she was an elementary school teacher. He had a feeling that she was both good at her job and well-liked.

  ‘I didn’t think I’d hear back from the police,’ she said now as she sat down after pouring the coffee and setting out a packet of biscuits. ‘But I don’t mean to complain. When Victoria disappeared, I realized that was what you needed to focus all your time on.’

  She held out the packet of biscuits to Gösta, and he took three. Oatmeal biscuits. His absolute favourite, aside from the Ballerina variety.

  ‘It’s true that the case has taken up most of our time. But I still should have looked at your report earlier. I’m sorry you’ve had to wait so long.’

  ‘Well, you’re here now,’ she said, helping herself to a biscuit.

  Gösta smiled gratefully. ‘Why don’t you tell me what you remember and why you decided to contact the police.’

  ‘Well …’ She hesitated, frowning. ‘The first thing I noticed were the footprints in the garden. My lawn turns into a sea of mud whenever it rains, and it rained a lot early in the autumn. On several mornings I noticed footprints in the mud. They were big, so I was fairly certain the shoes must have belonged to a man.’

  ‘And then you saw someone standing out there?’

  Katarina frowned again.

  ‘Yes. I think it was a couple of weeks after I saw the footprints the first time. For a while I wondered if it could have been Mathias, Adam’s father, but that didn’t seem likely. Why would he sneak over here when he barely stays in touch? Besides, the person was smoking cigarettes and Mathias doesn’t smoke. I don’t know if I mentioned that I found cigarette butts.’

  ‘You didn’t happen to save the butts, did you?’ asked Gösta, even though he realized it was a long shot.

  Katarina grimaced.

  ‘I think I managed to throw out most of them. I didn’t want Adam to find them. Of course I may have missed one or two, but …’ She pointed towards the yard, and Gösta saw what she meant. Through the window he could see a thick layer of snow covering the lawn.

  Gösta sighed. ‘Did you get a good look at this person?’

  ‘No, I’m afraid not. I mostly saw the glow of his cigarette. We had already gone to bed, but Adam woke up and was thirsty, so I came down here to the kitchen in the dark to get him a glass of water. And that’s when I saw the glow of a cigarette in the garden. Someone was standing out there smoking, but I didn’t really see the person. Just a silhouette.’

  ‘But you think it was a man, not a woman?’

  ‘Yes. If it was the same person who left the footprints. And now that I think about it, he seemed very tall.’

  ‘Did you do anything? Did you reveal in any way that you’d seen him, for instance?’

  ‘No. The only thing I did was ring the police. It made me a little uneasy, even though I didn’t feel directly threatened. But then Victoria disappeared, and it was hard to think about anything else. And I haven’t seen anything out of the ordinary since then.’

  ‘Hmm …’ said Gösta. He cursed himself for not looking at the report and making the connection earlier. But there was no use in crying over spilt milk. He needed to make the best of things now. He stood up.

  ‘Do you happen to have a snow shovel? I’d like to go out and see if I can find any of those cigarette butts.’

  ‘Sure. It’s in the garage. You’re welcome to use it. And you could clear the driveway while you’re at it.’

  Gösta put on his shoes and jacket and went out to the garage. It was nice and tidy, and he found the shovel leaning against the wall just inside the door.

  Out in the garden he paused to think. It would be stupid to sweat unnecessarily. He needed to choose the right place to begin. Katarina
had opened the terrace door facing the garden, so he asked her, ‘Where did you find most of the cigarette butts?’

  ‘Over there on your left, close to the house.’

  He nodded and trudged through the snow to the spot she had pointed out. The snow was heavy, and he felt a twinge in his back as he lifted away the first shovelful.

  ‘Are you sure you don’t want me to do that?’ asked Katarina, sounding concerned.

  ‘No, I’m fine. It’s good for this old body of mine to get some exercise every now and then.’

  He noticed the boys peering at him from the window and waved to them before going back to shovelling. He rested now and then, but after a while he had cleared about a square metre of ground. He squatted down to study the area, but the only thing he saw was frozen mud with a few blades of grass. Then his eyes narrowed. Something yellow was sticking up at the edge of the square he’d cleared. Cautiously he brushed away the snow on top of it. A cigarette butt. He pulled it loose and then stood up, his back aching. He looked at the butt. Then he raised his eyes and saw what he was convinced the mysterious stranger had also seen as he stood and smoked. Because standing here in Katarina’s garden he had a good view of Victoria’s house. And of her bedroom window upstairs.

  UDDEVALLA 1971

  When Laila discovered that she was once again pregnant, she had mixed emotions. Maybe she wasn’t suited to be a mother, maybe she wasn’t capable of feeling the love for a child that was expected of her.

  But all her worries proved unfounded. Everything was so different with Peter. So wonderfully different. She couldn’t take her eyes off her son, couldn’t get enough of breathing in his scent, caressing his soft skin with her fingertips. When she held him in her arms, as she was doing now, he would look up at her with such trust in his eyes that her heart overflowed. So this was what it was like to love a child. She never could have imagined it possible to have such strong feelings for another person. Even her love for Vladek paled in comparison with what she felt when she looked at her newborn son.