The Girl in the Woods (Patrik Hedstrom and Erica Falck, Book 10) Page 32
She awoke when something tickled her nose. She reached up to rub her nose and heard a muted laugh beside her. Hastily she sat up. Preben was sitting next to her, holding a blade of grass in his hand.
‘What is the vicar doing!’ she said, trying to sound angry, but she could hear that her voice was filled with mirth.
He smiled and his blue eyes drew her in, closer and closer.
‘You looked so peaceful sleeping there,’ he said, running the blade of grass along her cheek to tease her.
She wanted to stand up, brush off her skirts, and pick up her overflowing basket to march home. That would be the proper thing to do. That was what she ought to do. But as they sat there in the grass next to the abandoned cowshed, they were not master and servant. Or even brother-in-law and sister-in-law. They were Elin and Preben, and above them God had painted the bluest of colours, while beneath them He had painted the greenest of green. Elin wanted one thing, then she wanted something else. She knew what she should do, and she knew what she could do. And she could not get up and leave. Preben was looking at her in a way no one had looked at her since Per was alive. She pictured him with Märta, holding the puppy in his arms. She saw him with the lock of hair falling into his eyes, with his hand gently stroking Stjärna’s muzzle when the cow was ill. And without knowing what had come over her, she leaned forward and kissed him. At first he gave a start. She could feel his lips stiffen against hers as his body warily drew back. Then he softened and moved close. Even though it should have felt so wrong, it was as if God were watching them. And smiling in all His omnipotence.
Chapter Twenty
‘We’re finished with the farmhouse.’
Torbjörn came over to Gösta and pointed towards the barn.
‘We’ll continue over there.’
‘Okay,’ said Gösta. He still felt a great aversion to this whole process, and he couldn’t bring himself to join Patrik and Peter, who were lying in the grass a short distance away. He’d wanted to speak to Eva as she sat on the patio chair outside the house, but she had such a remote look in her eyes that he hadn’t wanted to disturb her. Peter’s parents were angry and unwilling to listen to any sensible arguments at the moment, so he left them alone.
The forensic technicians were working hard, which only made Gösta feel all the more superfluous and at a loss. He knew his presence here was necessary, but he would have preferred to be doing something practical instead of merely standing about, supervising. Patrik had asked Paula and Martin to take a closer look at the background of the Berg family, and he would have gladly exchanged assignments with them. Yet Gösta realized that he was needed here, since he was the one who’d had the most contact with the family.
He watched Torbjörn’s team as they carried their equipment to the barn. A grey cat ran out when they opened the big doors.
A wasp buzzed close to his right ear, and he forced himself to stay still. He’d always been afraid of wasps, and it didn’t matter how many times people told him not to run around and frantically flail his arms, he just couldn’t help it. Some sort of primitive instinct caused an adrenalin rush and made his heart scream ‘Run!’ as soon as a wasp got near. But this time Gösta was in luck because the wasp found something sweeter and more interesting to attack and flew off without causing him to lose his dignity in front of everyone else on the farm.
‘Come over and join us,’ called Patrik, waving to him.
Gösta acquiesced and sat down in the grass next to Peter. It felt odd to be sitting there with him while the forensic team turned his home upside down, but Peter seemed to accept the situation. He appeared calm and composed.
‘What are they looking for?’ he asked now.
Gösta surmised Peter had a need to distance himself from everything in order to cope. He had to pretend none of the activity had anything to do with him. Gösta had seen the same thing many times before.
‘I’m afraid we can’t tell you what we’re doing or what we’re looking for.’
Peter nodded. ‘Because we’re potential suspects, right?’
There was a resigned tone to his voice, and Gösta felt that honesty was the best way to respond.
‘Yes, I’m afraid so. I realize how awful that must feel. But I assume you want us to do everything in our power to find out what happened to Nea. Unfortunately, that includes considering even the most unlikely possibilities.’
‘I understand. It’s okay,’ said Peter.
‘Do you think your parents will understand?’ asked Gösta, turning to look at Bengt and Ulla, who were standing some distance away.
Peter’s father was gesticulating wildly, and his face was bright red under his suntan as they argued.
‘They’re worried. And sad,’ said Peter, pulling up fistfuls of grass. ‘Pappa has always been like that. If he feels anxious about something, he reacts by getting angry. But it’s not as bad as he makes it sound.’
Torbjörn came out of the barn.
‘Patrik?’ he called. ‘Could you come over here?’
‘I’ll be right there,’ replied Patrik, getting up with an effort.
His knees creaked as he stood up, and Gösta thought his own knees would probably sound even worse. He frowned as he watched Patrik cross the stretch of gravel. Torbjörn was holding his mobile, and he began speaking intently with Patrik, who looked concerned.
Gösta got up.
‘I’m going to go over and find out what Torbjörn wants,’ he told Peter, shaking his right leg, which had fallen asleep.
He limped over to join his colleagues.
‘What is it? Have you found something?’
‘No, we haven’t yet started on the barn,’ said Torbjörn, holding up his phone. ‘But I got a call from Mellberg, ordering us to stop everything and head over to the refugee centre immediately. He says he’s found something.’
‘Found something?’ said Gösta, puzzled. ‘How can that be? He was asleep in his office when we left.’
‘He’s obviously up to some mischief,’ muttered Patrik. Then he turned to Torbjörn. ‘I’d rather we finished up here, but Mellberg is in charge and I can’t countermand his orders. We’ll cordon off the area here, drive over to the centre, and then come back later.’
‘It’s not advisable to cut short this type of search,’ said Torbjörn, and Gösta knew what he meant.
But he had to agree with Patrik. Mellberg was officially their boss and the one with the ultimate responsibility for the station. Even if they all knew this was more in theory than in practice, they had to obey his orders.
‘We’ll follow you,’ Torbjörn said, receiving a nod of confirmation from Patrik, who had taken out his phone and was trying in vain to reach Mellberg.
Gösta went over to the family and told them they’d return later, but he left their questions unanswered.
The fact that Mellberg had gone out on his own could only spell trouble. What could he possibly have found at the refugee centre? Gösta climbed into the car with a sense of impending disaster growing inside him.
The children were in no hurry to go home, but Erica knew that if she ever wanted to leave them here for another play date, it would be best if they didn’t stay much longer. She took the twins by the hand, and Maja went on ahead, skipping happily. What a wonderful child. Always happy, always so considerate and positive. Erica reminded herself to spend more time with her daughter. It was so easy to let the rambunctious twins demand all her attention.
While Noel and Anton merrily chattered about everything they’d done during the day, her thoughts returned to Helen. There were still so many unanswered questions, but she knew her instinct had been right: had she tried to put any pressure on Helen, she’d have clammed up. And Erica desperately needed more meat on the bone in order to complete this book. Her deadline was 1 December, and she hadn’t yet written a single sentence. That was actually par for the course, since she always spent most of her time on the research and then wrote the manuscript in about three months. But if she was
going to finish on time, she needed to start writing in early September, at the latest. And right now her carefully laid plans had been turned upside down.
She had no idea how the murder of Nea would affect the book and its publication. Regardless whether Helen and Marie were involved or not, she would be forced to write about the similarities between the two cases. And since the murder of Nea was still unsolved, it was impossible to know what should or could be included in the book. It felt a little cold-hearted to be thinking about a book when a child’s life had been taken, plunging her family into unthinkable grief. But ever since Erica wrote the book about the murder of her childhood friend, Alexandra, she’d disciplined herself to separate her feelings from her work. She reminded herself of the letters she’d received from families of victims, telling how her books had helped them to achieve some form of closure. There had also been occasions when she had contributed to solving a case, and she was determined that she would be of assistance to the police in this investigation too – by digging into the previous homicide.
With an effort, she set aside thoughts about the book. Her New Year’s resolution had been to try to be as present as possible whenever she was with her children. Not think about work, not sit with her eyes glued to the mobile display or the computer screen. Instead she wanted to give the kids her full attention. These early childhood years wouldn’t last long.
Even though the infancy stage was not her favourite, she was wholeheartedly looking forward to Anna’s new baby. Being able to borrow a baby was the best – playing games and snuggling with stuffed animals, then handing the little one back to the parents as soon as he or she smelled bad or cried. She couldn’t wait to find out whether this baby was a boy or a girl. Dan and Anna hadn’t wanted to know ahead of time, they said it didn’t matter either way. But for some reason Erica had a feeling it would be a girl. Maybe that would be for the best, since the unborn child they had so tragically lost was a boy. Anna’s body and face still bore scars from the car accident that had nearly killed her, but she seemed to have started to accept the physical changes. At least, Erica hoped so; it was a long time since Anna had mentioned them.
Erica stopped abruptly. Thinking about Anna reminded her of the bachelorette party. She’d completely forgotten her suggestion that they should arrange a party for Kristina. Although her mother-in-law sometimes got on her nerves, she was always willing to help with the children when asked. So the least Erica could do for Patrik’s mother was to organize something that she would enjoy. Not the usual nonsense, like selling kisses while wearing a bridal veil – that seemed undignified for a woman her age. But a fun day with Kristina in the spotlight. What could she come up with? And when? There wasn’t much time left. Maybe on the weekend? If she was going to make this happen, she’d better start right away.
A notice on the bulletin board in front of the camping area made her stop. Now there was an idea. A really good idea. Brilliant, even if she did say so herself. She got out her phone and took a picture of the notice. Then she rang Anna.
‘Hey, remember I was talking about organizing a bachelorette party for Kristina? How about Saturday? I’ll make all the arrangements if you’ll promise to reserve the date. Can Dan take care of the kids?’
Anna gave a curt reply, not sounding as enthusiastic as Erica had hoped. But maybe she was having a hard day because of her pregnancy, so Erica decided not to be put off.
‘I’m not a hundred per cent sure what I’ll think up, but I saw a notice on the bulletin board at the camping area, and it gave me an idea …’
Still no reaction from Anna. That was odd.
‘Is everything all right, Anna? You sound a little … strange.’
‘It’s nothing. I’m tired, that’s all.’
‘Okay, okay. I won’t nag. Get some rest, and I’ll give you all the details once I work them out.’
They ended the call, and Erica pensively stuck the phone in the pocket of her shorts. Something wasn’t right with Anna. She knew her sister so well, and she was convinced Anna was hiding something from her. And considering Anna’s unerring ability to attract misfortune, Erica felt uneasy. After all the adversity and problems, it had seemed as if Anna had finally landed on her feet and was beginning to make sensible decisions, but maybe that was merely wishful thinking on Erica’s part. The question was, what was her sister hiding? And why? Erica shivered in the summer heat. She wondered if she would ever stop worrying about her little sister.
Patrik had driven in tense silence the whole way to Tanumshede. He was an even worse driver when he was upset, and he was aware that Gösta was clinging tightly to the grab-handle above the car door.
‘Bertil’s still not answering?’ he asked.
With his free hand, Gösta held his mobile to his ear, then shook his head.
‘No reply.’
‘Damn it, we can’t leave him alone for even a minute. He’s worse than the kids.’
Patrik stomped harder on the accelerator.
The road was straight at this point and Tanumshede would soon come into view. His stomach lurched as they raced over the hills, and he noticed that Gösta’s face was starting to turn green.
‘I’m not happy that we had to abandon the search of the farm. Even though we cordoned off the area, there’s a risk the forensic examination might get compromised,’ muttered Patrik. ‘Are Paula and Martin on their way?’
‘Yes. I talked to Martin, and they’ll meet us at the centre. They’re probably already there.’
Patrik was surprised by his own anger. Mellberg had an unfailing ability to make a mess of things, usually in the hope of covering himself in glory. This time Patrik simply couldn’t permit him to derail their investigation. Not when they were dealing with the murder of a child.
When they pulled up to the refugee centre, they saw Paula and Martin waiting for them in the car park. Patrik parked next to their vehicle and got out, slamming the door behind him.
‘Have you seen him yet?’ he asked.
‘No. We thought it best to wait for you. But we did speak to the centre’s director, and apparently Mellberg went to the furthest house.’ Paula pointed behind them.
‘Okay. Well, let’s go over there and find out what he’s got himself into this time.’
Patrik turned at the sound of more cars pulling in. Torbjörn and his team had arrived.
‘Why does he want Torbjörn here?’ asked Martin. ‘Do you know? Has anybody talked to him?’
Patrik snorted. ‘He’s not answering his phone. The only thing we know is that he told Torbjörn to get here fast. He said he’d found something and that he’d “locked up this bloody case like a tin of sardines”.’
‘Do we even want to know?’ asked Paula gloomily. Then she nodded to the others. ‘We might as well get this over with.’
‘Should we bring our equipment or not?’ asked Torbjörn.
Patrik hesitated.
‘Sure, what the hell. Bring the equipment. Mellberg says he found something.’
Patrik motioned for Gösta, Paula and Martin to come with him, and they set off for the house in question. Torbjörn and his team began taking their gear out of the cars. They’d follow in a few minutes.
All around, people were watching them. Some were peering out of windows, others had come outside and were standing in front of the houses. But no one said a word. They simply watched, with worried expressions.
From a distance, Patrik heard a woman screaming, and he moved faster.
‘What’s going on here?’ he asked when they reached the house.
Mellberg was talking to a woman. He was gesticulating wildly and using his most authoritative voice.
In broken English he kept repeating: ‘No no, cannot go in house. Stay outside.’
He turned to Patrik.
‘I’m glad you’re here!’
‘What’s going on?’ Patrik repeated. ‘We’ve been trying to get hold of you ever since you rang Torbjörn, but you’re not answering your phone.’<
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‘No, I’ve had my hands full. She’s hysterical, and the kids are crying. But I had to shoo them out of the house so they wouldn’t destroy any evidence.’
‘Evidence? What sort of evidence?’
Patrik heard his voice rise to a falsetto. His feeling of uneasiness was growing by the minute, and he had an urge to grab Mellberg by the shoulders and shake him until he wiped that smug look off his face.
‘I received a tip,’ said Mellberg proudly, then paused for dramatic effect.
‘What kind of tip?’ asked Paula. ‘From whom?’
She took a step towards Mellberg as she cast a concerned look at the crying children. But Patrik realized that she too wanted to size up the situation before taking any action.
‘Well, it was … an anonymous tip,’ said Mellberg. ‘Saying there was evidence that would lead to the girl’s killer.’
‘Here? In this particular house? Or connected to the people who live here? What exactly did this anonymous caller say?’
Mellberg sighed and began enunciating his words slowly and clearly, as if speaking to a child. ‘The caller gave very precise information about this house. Described the layout. But didn’t mention any names.’
‘So you drove over here?’ asked Patrik with rising annoyance. ‘Without telling any of us?’
Mellberg snorted and glared at him.
‘Yes. You were busy with other things, and I knew it was important to act fast so the evidence wouldn’t disappear or get destroyed. It was a well-thought-out decision on my part.’
‘And you didn’t consider waiting for a search warrant from the prosecutor?’ asked Patrik.
He was struggling to stay calm.
‘Well …’ said Mellberg. For the first time he looked a little uncertain. ‘I didn’t think it was necessary. As the chief, I made the decision. It was a matter of securing evidence in a homicide investigation, and in that situation, you know as well as I do that we don’t have to wait for official permission.’