The Lost Boy (Patrick Hedstrom and Erica Falck, Book 7) Read online

  ‘I think I’ll put the bullet right between your eyes.’ Stefan raised the gun, holding his arm out straight, and she knew that he was speaking the truth. He was an excellent marksman.

  A flock of birds took off from the trees in fright when the shot was fired. But they soon settled back on to the branches, and their chirping blended with the soughing of the wind.

  It was so tedious, ploughing through all the documents: post-mortem reports, interviews with neighbours, notes that they’d made during the investigation. After three hours Patrik realized dejectedly that he was only halfway through. When Annika stuck her head in the door, he welcomed the interruption.

  ‘The detectives from Stockholm are here. Should I bring them to your office, or do you want to sit in the kitchen?’

  ‘The kitchen,’ said Patrik, standing up. His back creaked, and he reminded himself that he ought to get up and stretch once in a while. He couldn’t afford any back problems now, especially since he’d only recently returned to work after being on sick leave.

  He met them in the corridor and paused to shake hands. The woman, who was tall and blond, gripped his hand so hard that he thought his bones would break. The short man with the glasses had a more relaxed handshake.

  ‘Petra and Konrad, right? I thought we could sit in the kitchen. How was the drive?’

  They chatted some more as they took their seats, and Patrik was struck by what an odd pair these two were. Yet they seemed perfectly at ease with each other, and Patrik suspected that they must have worked together for years.

  ‘We need to talk with Nathalie Wester,’ Petra finally said, having tired of the small talk.

  ‘As I said, she’s here. Out on her island. I met her about a week ago.’

  ‘And she didn’t mention her husband?’ Petra fixed her eyes on Patrik, who felt as if he were being interrogated.

  ‘No, she never said a word. We went out there to talk to her about an old boyfriend. He was found murdered in Fjällbacka.’

  ‘We read about the case,’ said Konrad. He turned to look at Ernst, who had come into the kitchen. ‘Is he the station’s mascot?’

  ‘Yes, you might say that.’

  ‘This is quite a coincidence,’ Petra went on. ‘We have a husband shot to death, and you have an old boyfriend shot to death.’

  ‘I was thinking the same thing. But we have a possible suspect in our case.’

  He briefly told his colleagues what they’d found out about Stefan Ljungberg and the Illegal Eagles. Both Petra and Konrad looked startled when he mentioned the bag of cocaine found in the litter bin.

  ‘Yet another connection,’ said Petra.

  ‘The only thing we know is that Sverin had touched the bag.’

  Petra waved away Patrik’s protests. ‘No matter what, we need to look into this. Fredrik Wester mostly dealt in cocaine, and his transactions weren’t restricted to Stockholm. With Nathalie as the common link, maybe they got in contact with each other and started doing business together.’

  Patrik frowned. ‘I don’t know … Mats Sverin wasn’t exactly the type who …’

  ‘I’m afraid there isn’t a specific type,’ said Konrad. ‘We’ve seen it all: upper-class youths, mothers of small children, even a pastor.’

  ‘Oh, right, that guy,’ laughed Petra. She suddenly looked less intimidating.

  ‘Yes, I realize that,’ said Patrik, feeling like a real country bumpkin. He knew that he was a novice when it came to this type of crime, and his instincts might be wide of the mark. He needed to trust the experience of his Stockholm colleagues instead of paying attention to what his gut was telling him.

  ‘Let’s hear what you’ve got, then we’ll fill you in on our case,’ said Petra.

  Patrik nodded. ‘Okay. Who wants to start?’

  ‘Go ahead.’ Konrad got out a pen and paper, and Ernst lay down on the floor, disappointed.

  Patrik paused to gather his thoughts and then from memory told his colleagues what they’d found out so far. While Konrad took notes, Petra sat and listened intently, her arms crossed.

  ‘Well, that’s basically all,’ Patrik concluded. ‘Your turn.’

  Konrad put down his pen and gave him a summary of their investigation. They hadn’t been working the case very long, but they’d already amassed a lot of information about Fredrik Wester and the narcotics organization he’d been part of. Konrad added that they’d gone over a lot of the details on the previous day, when Martin Molin had phoned. Patrik knew this, but he had wanted to hear their report himself.

  ‘As you can tell, we’re working closely with our colleagues in the narcotics division on this investigation.’ Konrad shoved his glasses back into place.

  ‘Yes, that sounds good,’ murmured Patrik. An idea was starting to take shape in his mind. ‘Have you run the bullets through the police database yet?’

  Konrad and Petra both shook their head.

  ‘I talked to the lab yesterday,’ said Konrad, ‘and they were just getting started.’

  ‘We haven’t received a report yet either, but …’

  Petra and Konrad stared at him. Petra suddenly realized what Patrik was getting at.

  ‘If we asked the lab to compare the bullets from these two cases …’

  ‘Then we’d probably get the results back quicker,’ said Patrik.

  ‘I like the way you think.’ Petra glanced at Konrad. ‘Could you give them a call? You’re on good terms with the lab, whereas they’re not too happy with me lately because of—’

  Konrad seemed to know exactly what she meant, because he interrupted her and took out his mobile. ‘I’ll ring them now.’

  ‘Do that. In the meantime, I’ll go and get the information you’ll need.’ Patrik jumped up and ran to his office. He came back with a document that he set on the table in front of Konrad.

  Konrad chatted on the phone for a bit, and then made the request. He listened, nodded, and a smile appeared on his face.

  ‘That’s fantastic. I owe you one. I owe you big time. Thanks!’ Konrad ended the conversation with a satisfied look on his face. ‘I talked to one of the boys I know over there. He’s going to do a comparison right away. He’ll call back the minute it’s done.’

  ‘Incredible,’ said Patrik, clearly impressed.

  Petra seemed unfazed. She was used to Konrad’s ability to accomplish minor miracles.

  Anna had slowly made her way home from the cemetery. Erica had offered to drive her, but she wanted to walk. Falkeliden was only a stone’s throw away, and she needed to collect her thoughts. Dan would be waiting at home. He was hurt when she told him that she wanted to visit the grave with Erica and not with him. But right now she just didn’t have the energy to take his feelings into consideration. She was hardly capable of examining her own emotions.

  The inscription on the headstone would be etched into her heart for ever. Little One. Maybe they should have tried to come up with a proper name. Afterwards. But that hadn’t felt right. They had called him Little One the whole time he was inside of her and loved by them all. So that was what he would always be called. He would never grow up, never be anything except that little mite that she’d never even held in her arms.

  She’d been unconscious for so long, and then it was too late. Dan had held him, wrapped up in a tiny blanket. He’d been able to touch the baby and say goodbye. Even though she knew that wasn’t Dan’s fault, it hurt that he’d had that experience and she hadn’t. Deep in her heart she was also angry at him for not protecting them, her and Little One. She knew that she was being ridiculous and irrational. It had been her decision to get in the car, and he’d not been present when the accident occurred. There was nothing he could have done. And yet she was angry that even Dan had not been able to protect her from bad things happening.

  Maybe she had allowed herself to be lulled into a false sense of security. After everything she’d been through, after all those awful years with Lucas, she had convinced herself that it was finally over. That her life
with Dan would be a long, straight road, without any unexpected bumps or curves. She hadn’t had any high-flying plans or big dreams. All she wanted was an ordinary life in a row house in Falkeliden, with dinner parties, mortgage payments, football practice for the kids, and the ever-present piles of shoes in the front hall. Was that asking too much?

  In some sense she had viewed Dan as the guarantor for that sort of life. He was so steady and stable, always calm and with the ability to see beyond any problems that arose. She had leaned on him, without standing on her own two feet. But he had fallen, and she didn’t know how she was going to forgive him for that.

  She opened the front door and went in. Her whole body ached after the walk, and her arms felt heavy as she lifted them to take off her scarf. Dan glanced at her from the kitchen and then stood motionless in the doorway. He didn’t say a word, just looked at her with a pleading expression. She averted her eyes.

  ‘I’m going upstairs to lie down,’ she mumbled.

  Anders was slowly packing up everything. He had enjoyed living in this small flat, which had come to feel like a real home. That was not something that he and Vivianne had experienced very often. They’d lived in so many different places, and just when they were settling in and making friends, it would be time to move on. They would have to pack their belongings when people started asking questions, when neighbours and teachers started worrying about them, and when the ladies from social services finally began to see through Olof’s charms.

  As adults, he and Vivianne had done the same thing. It was as if the two of them carried a sense of insecurity with them, as if it were in their bones. They were constantly on the move, going from one place to another, just as they’d done with Olof.

  He’d been dead for a long time now, yet they still lived in his shadow. The pattern was repeated. Things were different but somehow just the same.

  Anders closed the lid of his suitcase. He had decided to suffer the consequences. In his heart, he was already missing her, but it was impossible to make an omelette without cracking some eggs, as Vivianne liked to say. Though he knew she was right, it was going to take years to make this particular omelette, and he wasn’t sure that he could predict the results. But he was going to tell her. There was no use starting something new without admitting to what he’d done. He had spent too many sleepless nights coming to this conclusion, and now he’d made up his mind.

  Anders looked around the flat. He felt both relieved and filled with dread. It took courage to choose to stay instead of running away again. At the same time, it was the easiest route to take. He lifted his suitcase off the bed, then set it on the floor. There was no more time for brooding. He needed to tend to the festivities. And he was going to help Vivianne to make sure the party was a huge success. That was the least he could do for her.

  The time hadn’t gone as slowly as Patrik had feared. They had discussed both cases while they waited for the phone call from the lab, and Patrik had felt the adrenalin kick in. Although Paula and Martin were highly skilled police officers, he noticed that his Stockholm colleagues had a whole different mindset. Above all, he envied the working partnership that Petra and Konrad shared. Patrik could see that they were made for each other. Petra was excitable, and she was constantly coming up with new ideas and firing out suggestions. Konrad was more tactful and introspective, and he was able to offer insightful comments to Petra’s outpourings.

  When the phone rang, all three of them jumped. Konrad answered.

  ‘Yes? Okay. Hmm … Really?’

  Petra and Patrik stared at him. Was he saying so little just to torment them? Finally he ended the conversation and leaned back in his chair. They kept on staring at him until he finally spoke.

  ‘They match. The bullets match.’

  For a moment there was total silence in the room.

  ‘Are they positive about that?’ Patrik then asked.

  ‘A hundred per cent positive. There’s no doubt whatsoever. The same gun was used in both murders.’

  ‘Bloody hell.’ Petra had a big smile on her face.

  ‘Now it’s even more vital that we talk with Wester’s widow. There must be some link between the victims, and I’m guessing it has to do with cocaine. Considering the type of individuals that might be involved, I wouldn’t feel very safe if I were in Nathalie’s shoes.’

  ‘Shall we go out there?’ asked Petra, getting up.

  Patrik was so engrossed in his own thoughts that he barely heard what she said. Vague suspicions were starting to gel into a pattern.

  ‘I need to check on a few things first. Could you wait a couple of hours before we go out there?’

  ‘Okay, we can do that,’ said Petra, but it was obvious that she was impatient.

  ‘Great. You can make yourselves at home here, or you could take a walk around town. If you’re hungry, I can recommend the food at Tanums Gestgiveri.’

  His Stockholm colleagues nodded.

  ‘We’ll go and have lunch. Just point us in the right direction,’ said Konrad.

  After Patrik had told them how to find the restaurant, he took a deep breath and went back to his office. It was important not to be too hasty. He needed to make several phone calls, so he started with Torbjörn. He wasn’t sure he’d get hold of him, since it was Saturday, but Torbjörn answered his phone. Patrik briefly told him what they’d found out about the bullets, and then he asked Torbjörn if he could compare the unidentified fingerprints from the cocaine bag with the prints they’d found on both the inside and outside of Sverin’s front door. Patrik also warned him that he’d be sending over a new fingerprint to compare with the others. Torbjörn started asking questions, but Patrik cut him off. He would explain later.

  The next task on his list was to locate a specific report. He knew it was somewhere in the stack on his desk, so he began leafing through the documents. Finally he found it. Carefully he read the odd, brief report. Then he went into Martin’s office.

  ‘I need your help.’ He put the report on Martin’s desk. ‘Can you remember any more details about this?’

  Martin looked at Patrik in surprise but then shook his head.

  ‘No, I’m afraid not. Although I’m not going to forget that particular witness for a very long time.’

  ‘Could you go back there and ask a few more questions?’

  ‘Sure.’ He looked as if he would burst with curiosity.

  ‘I mean now,’ said Patrik when Martin made no move to get up.

  ‘Okay, okay.’ He jumped to his feet. ‘I’ll ring as soon as I find out anything more,’ he said over his shoulder. Then he stopped. ‘But can’t you at least tell me why …’

  ‘Go now. We’ll talk about it later.’

  Two things taken care of. One more to go. Patrik went to the sea chart hanging on the wall in the corridor. After trying to prise off a thumbtack, he finally lost patience and yanked the map off the wall, tearing several corners. Then he took it into Gösta’s office.

  ‘Have you talked to that guy who knows the archipelago near Fjällbacka?’

  Gösta nodded. ‘Yup. I gave him all the information, and he was going to mull it over. It’s not an exact science, but it might give us a lead.’

  ‘Call him up and give him this information too.’ Patrik set the sea chart on Gösta’s desk and showed him what he was talking about.

  Gösta raised an eyebrow.

  ‘Is this urgent?’

  ‘Yes. Call him now and ask him for a quick opinion. All he needs to tell us is whether it’s possible. Or reasonable. Then come and let me know what he says.’

  ‘You got it.’ Gösta reached for the phone.

  Patrik returned to his office and sat down at the desk. He was out of breath, as if he’d been running, and his heart was pounding. Thoughts continued to whirl through his mind. More details, more questions, more speculations. At the same time, he felt that he was on the right track. But all he could do at the moment was wait. He stared out of the window and drummed his fingers on t
he desktop. The shrill ring of his mobile gave him a start.

  He answered the phone and then listened intently.

  ‘Thanks for calling, Ulf. Keep me posted, okay?’ Then he ended the conversation.

  His heart was pounding again. This time from anger. That bastard had found Madeleine and her children. Her father had mustered the courage to ring the police and report that his daughter’s ex-husband had forced his way into their flat and left with both Madeleine and the kids. Since then, they hadn’t heard a word from them. Patrik realized that they must have already gone missing when he and Ulf were out at the farm. Were they somewhere on the property, locked up and in need of help? Patrik clenched his fists, feeling helpless. Ulf had assured him that they would do everything they could to find Madeleine, but he didn’t sound hopeful.

  An hour later Konrad and Petra appeared in the doorway.

  ‘Are we ready to go now?’ asked Petra.

  ‘Not quite yet. There’s one more thing we need to work out.’ Patrik wasn’t sure how to explain. So much was still murky and hazy.

  ‘And what’s that?’ Petra frowned. She clearly didn’t want to waste any more time.

  ‘Let’s meet in the kitchen.’ Patrik got up and went to summon the others. After hesitating for a moment, he also knocked on Mellberg’s door.

  When everyone had gathered, Patrik introduced Petra and Konrad. Then he cleared his throat and slowly began explaining his theory, careful to include those areas that still had major holes. When he was finished, everyone sat in silence for a moment.

  ‘What would be the motive?’ asked Konrad. He sounded both hopeful and sceptical.

  ‘I don’t know. That’s what we still have to work out. But the theory holds up, even though there are some gaps that have to be filled in.’

  ‘How should we proceed?’ asked Paula.

  ‘I’ve talked to Torbjörn and told him that we’d be sending over a new fingerprint ASAP, so he can compare it with the prints on the door and the paper bag. If it matches, everything else will be easier. Then we’ll have a link to the murder.’