The Girl in the Woods (Patrik Hedstrom and Erica Falck, Book 10) Read online

Apparently there had been plenty to drink during the bachelorette party. He wasn’t sure he even wanted to know what condition his mother was in.

  ‘Soooo … Kristina, your mother …’ said Erica, before downing the first glass of water.

  Patrik instantly refilled it.

  ‘Yes, I know who Kristina is.’

  This was really entertaining. If he’d dared, he would have videoed it, but he knew Erica would kill him if he did.

  ‘She is sooooo lovely, your mother,’ she said, nodding.

  She drank another glass of water, and he refilled it from the carafe.

  ‘Such amazing legs,’ said Erica, shaking her head.

  ‘Who has amazing legs?’ he asked, trying to make sense of the thoughts whirling inside Erica’s head.

  ‘Your mother … Kristina. My mother-in-law.’

  ‘Oh, you mean my mother has amazing legs. Okay. Good to know.’

  He got her to drink one more glass of water. Tomorrow was going to prove challenging for Erica. He had to go to work, and he suspected that their regular babysitter, meaning Kristina, would not be in any shape to look after the kids.

  ‘And she can dance! They should invite her to be on Let’s Dance. Not me, though. I can’t dance …’

  Erica shook her head and drank the last glass of water, swallowing the two ibuprofen that Patrik handed to her.

  ‘But it was fun! We danced the cha-cha. Can you believe it? The cha-cha!’

  She hiccupped and got up to put her arms around Patrik.

  ‘Erica, honey, I don’t think you’re in any shape to do the cha-cha right now.’

  ‘But I want to! Come on … I’m not going to bed until we’ve danced the cha-cha.’

  Patrik weighed his options. Carrying Erica upstairs was not one of them. The best thing would be to do what she wanted and then persuade her to go upstairs to bed.

  ‘Okay, sweetie. Let’s do the cha-cha. But we’d better go in the living room. Otherwise I’m afraid we’ll knock everything on to the floor here in the kitchen.’

  He ushered her into the living room. She stood in front of him, placed one hand on his shoulder and took his left hand in hers. She swayed a couple of times then regained her balance. She cast a glance at the portrait of Leif leaning against the wall right next to them.

  ‘Leif, you can be our cha-cha audience.’

  She laughed at her own joke. Patrik gave her a little shake.

  ‘Come on. Focus. The cha-cha, right? And after that: bed. Okay? That’s what you promised.’

  ‘Sure, we’ll go to bed and … Do a little more than sleep …’

  She looked him deep in the eyes. He felt tears fill his eyes from the alcohol fumes on her breath, and he had to restrain himself from coughing. This was probably the first and last time he wasn’t enticed by such an invitation.

  ‘Cha-cha,’ he reminded her.

  ‘Oh, right,’ said Erica, stretching. ‘So, this is how you move your feet. One, two, cha-cha-cha. Get it?’

  He tried to watch her feet, but there didn’t seem to be any pattern to how she was moving them. It didn’t get any easier when she stumbled a few times.

  ‘And then the right … And then the left …’

  Amused, Patrik tried to follow, though he was preoccupied with wondering how long he would have to keep doing this.

  ‘One, two, cha-cha-cha, then right, then left …’

  She stumbled again, and Patrik caught her. She fixed her gaze on Leif’s portrait, trying to focus. She frowned.

  ‘Right … and left …’ she muttered.

  She gave Patrik a hazy look.

  ‘Now I know what doesn’t fit …’

  She rested her head on his shoulder.

  ‘What? What doesn’t fit? Erica?’

  He gave her a little shake, but she didn’t answer. Then he heard her begin to snore. Good lord. How was he going to get her upstairs now? And what did she mean something didn’t fit? He had no idea what she was talking about.

  Bohuslän 1672

  The gaol stood on a hill, right next to the inn. Elin had given it only a cursory glance until now. No doubt she had some idea what a gaol looked like, but she could not have imagined how dark and damp it would be. Tiny creatures crept and crawled through the dark, nudging her hands and feet.

  The gaol was small, used mostly for those who indulged too much at the inn, or for husbands to calm down and sleep off the drink before returning to their families.

  She was all alone here.

  Elin wrapped her arms tightly around herself, shivering in the raw cold. Märta’s screams still rang in her ears, and she could still feel her daughter’s fingers clinging to her skirts.

  They had seized her possessions from the servants’ quarters. Her herbs and concoctions. The book with pictures that her grandmother had left her. Instructions for what to mix together and how to do it, illustrated by someone who could not write. Elin had no idea what they had done with all these things.

  What she did know was that she was in serious trouble.

  Preben was due to return home in two days’ time, and he would not allow this lunacy to continue. As soon as he came back from Lur, he would sort everything out. He knew the sheriff. He would speak to him. And he would also put Britta right. No doubt she merely wanted to teach Elin a lesson and frighten her. Surely she did not mean for her to die.

  Yet she thought about the incident at the lake in the woods. And Märta’s terrified expression when she was about to slip beneath the dark water. And her cat Viola, who disappeared and never came back. Perhaps Britta did intend for her to die, but Preben would never allow that to happen. He would not treat Britta kindly when he heard what she had done. If only Elin could hold out for two days, she would be able to return home. To Märta. She did not know where they would go after that, but they could no longer remain under Britta’s roof.

  She heard a rattling sound, and the sheriff appeared in the doorway. Hastily she stood up and brushed off her skirts.

  ‘Is it truly necessary for me to sit here, imprisoned like a criminal? I have a daughter, and there is nowhere for me to go. Could I not stay at home under my own roof until we sort this out? I promise to answer all your questions, and I know that many people will testify that I am not a witch.’

  ‘You are not going anywhere,’ said the sheriff, pompously squaring his shoulders. ‘I know what the likes of you are capable of, and with what enticing tones you brides of Satan can speak. I am a god-fearing man, and no incantations or devilish spells will have the slightest effect on me.’

  ‘I don’t know what you are talking about,’ said Elin with growing bewilderment.

  How had it come to this? How had she landed here? What had she done to the sheriff for him to look at her with such revulsion? Of course she had sinned. She had been weak in both flesh and soul, but she had paid a price for that. She could not understand why God would demand from her even greater penance. In despair, she sank to her knees on the filthy floor, clasping her hands and fervently praying.

  The sheriff stared at her with loathing.

  ‘Your play-acting does not fool me,’ he said. ‘I know what you are up to, and soon everyone else will know it too.’

  As the door closed and the cell was once again shrouded in darkness, Elin continued to pray. She prayed until her legs went numb and her arms lost all feeling. But no one was listening.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Erica opened her eyes and squinted at the light. Maja was standing in front of her.

  ‘Why are you sleeping on the sofa, Mamma?’ she asked.

  Erica glanced around. Yes, why was she sleeping on the sofa? She had no memory of coming home.

  The sofa cushions underneath her felt lumpy, so she propped herself on one hand and tried to sit up, but her head felt like it would explode. Maja moved closer, waiting for an answer to her question.

  ‘Mamma has a tummy ache. It was better for me to sleep here so that Pappa wouldn’t catch it,’ Erica explained
.

  ‘Poor Mamma,’ said Maja.

  ‘Yes, poor Mamma,’ Erica agreed, wincing.

  Good lord, she hadn’t had a hangover since the day after their wedding, and she’d totally repressed how much like a near-death experience it could be.

  ‘So the corpse awakens,’ said Patrik a little too cheerfully as he came into the living room, carrying a twin in each arm.

  ‘Just shoot me,’ said Erica, struggling to sit up.

  The room spun and her mouth was as dry as tinder.

  ‘It must have been a successful bachelorette party yesterday,’ said Patrik with a laugh.

  Erica could tell he was laughing at her and not with her.

  ‘We actually had an amazing time,’ she said, holding her head. ‘But we had a lot to drink. Your mother is probably feeling the effects today.’

  ‘I’m so glad I didn’t have to see that. It was enough to see you when you came home.’

  He set the twins down in front of the TV and turned on the kids’ programme.

  Maja sat down next to Noel and Anton and told her brothers sternly: ‘Mamma is sick so we have to be very nice to her.’

  The twins nodded but then went back to watching the kids’ show.

  ‘When did I get home?’ Erica asked, desperately trying to fill her lungs.

  ‘Around one. And then you wanted to dance. You insisted on teaching me the cha-cha.’

  ‘You’re kidding.’

  Erica put her hand to her forehead. She knew she’d be hearing about this for a long time to come.

  Patrik’s expression turned serious. He sat down next to her on the sofa.

  ‘You said a strange thing before you passed out. You were looking at the portrait of Leif, and you said something about right and left and that you understood what didn’t fit. Do you recall?’

  Erica tried to remember, but her mind was blank. The last thing she recalled was a Long Island Iced Tea being set down in front of her. She should have known better than to drink things like that. But hindsight never helped. Goodness knows how she’d made it home afterwards. Looking down at the pitch-black soles of her feet, she concluded that she must have walked home barefoot.

  ‘No, I don’t remember a thing. Unfortunately,’ she said, with a grimace.

  ‘Keep trying. Right. Left. That’s what you said. It seemed to trigger something in your mind.’

  Erica tried, but her head was pounding so badly she couldn’t think.

  ‘No. Sorry. But maybe it’ll come back to me.’ She gave a start and frowned. ‘But there is one thing I remember – from the day before yesterday! Sorry, but there was so much happening with the bachelorette party that I forgot all about it.’

  ‘What is it?’ asked Patrik.

  ‘I’m sure this is super important, and I should have told you earlier, but you came home so late, and then I was busy with the party. I met Marie on Friday, just by chance. I was walking past the film set at the harbour, and they were taking a break. Marie called me over and said she’d heard I wanted to talk to her. So we went to Café Bryggan and talked about what happened to Stella. But that’s not the most important thing. As I was leaving, the make-up artist from the film company came over and said that Marie didn’t have an alibi for Sunday night, because she was the one who’d spent the night with the director, not Marie.’

  ‘Oh, shit,’ said Patrik. Erica could see the gears starting to turn in his mind.

  She massaged her forehead.

  ‘There’s one more thing. Marie says she saw or heard somebody in the woods right before Stella disappeared. The police didn’t believe her, and maybe that’s not so strange since she didn’t mention it until after she’d retracted her confession. Regardless, she thinks the same person may have struck again.’

  Patrik shook his head. It sounded like a long shot.

  ‘I know, the last bit sounds like speculation on her part. But I thought I should tell you anyway,’ said Erica. ‘How’s it going with the investigation?’

  She was struggling to talk because her tongue felt like it was glued to her gums.

  ‘Did you do the rest of the search yesterday?’

  ‘Yes, we did.’

  When he told her what they’d found in the barn, Erica’s eyes widened. It was hard to know what the discovery meant, but she realized this was a major breakthrough in the investigation.

  ‘When will you get back the results from forensics?’

  ‘Not until the middle of the week,’ said Patrik with a sigh. ‘I wish we could have had the results yesterday. It’s incredibly frustrating not to know, especially when it has a bearing on what our next step should be. But I have to bring in the parents for questioning today, so we’ll see if that gives us any new leads.’

  ‘Do you think one of them did it?’ asked Erica. She wasn’t sure she wanted to hear the answer.

  Crimes committed by parents against their children happened all too often, but she simply couldn’t understand how anyone could do such a thing. She glanced at her kids sitting on the floor in front of the TV and knew with all her soul that she would do anything to protect them.

  ‘I don’t know,’ replied Patrik. ‘That’s been the problem the whole time. There are so many possible scenarios, but no evidence to support or rule them out. And now you’re telling me that Marie doesn’t have an alibi. Which opens the door to even more possibilities.’

  ‘I know you’ll work this out,’ she said, stroking his arm. ‘And who knows? In a few days the report may give you more useful information.’

  ‘That’s true,’ he said and stood up.

  He nodded towards the children.

  ‘Will you be able to manage, given the state you’re in?’

  Erica would have liked to tell him that she definitely could not manage, but she refrained. Since this hangover was self-inflicted, she’d simply have to deal with the consequences. But it was going to be a long day. And it was going to take a lot of kids’ TV and bribes if she was to survive.

  Patrik kissed her on the cheek and left for work. Her head pounding, Erica looked at the painting leaning against the wall. What had she meant? But no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t remember. Her mind was still in a fog.

  Patrik pressed the record button and stated the day, date, and the names of the people present in the interview room. Then he fell silent for a few moments, staring at Peter. The man sitting across from him looked as if he’d aged ten years in the past week. Patrik was flooded with sympathy for him, but he reminded himself to remain objective and professional. It was so easy to be fooled by what he might want, or not want, to believe about others. He’d made that mistake before, and he’d learned that human beings were seldom straightforward. Nothing was a given.

  ‘How often do you use the barn on your property?’ he asked.

  Peter’s eyes narrowed.

  ‘I … um … the barn? We don’t use it at all. We don’t have any animals except for the cat, and we don’t use it for storage. We don’t believe in collecting a lot of junk.’

  He gave Patrik a long look.

  ‘When was the last time you were in the barn?’

  Peter scratched his head.

  ‘It must have been when we were looking for Nea,’ he said.

  ‘What about before that?’

  ‘I’m not sure. Maybe a week ago. I went there to look for her. Nea was the only one who ever went in the barn. She thought it was so cosy inside. She used to spend a lot of time in there playing with the cat. For some reason she called it a black cat.’

  Peter laughed, but stopped abruptly.

  ‘Why are you asking about the barn?’ he asked, but Patrik didn’t reply.

  ‘Are you sure the last time you were in the barn was a week before she disappeared? Can you be more precise?’

  Peter shook his head.

  ‘No, I really have no idea. My guess is it was a week ago.’

  ‘What about Eva? Do you know when she was last inside the barn? Aside from when you we
re looking for Nea, that is.’

  Peter again shook his head.

  ‘No, I haven’t a clue. You’ll have to ask her. But she had no reason to go there either. We don’t use the barn.’

  ‘Have you ever noticed anyone near the barn?’

  ‘No, never. Or rather, one time I thought I saw something moving about inside, but when I went to look, the cat came out. So it must have been the cat I saw.’

  He raised his eyes to look at Patrik.

  ‘Do you think somebody was in there? I don’t understand where these questions are leading.’

  ‘How often did Nea go to the barn? Do you know what she did there?’

  ‘No, only that she loved going to the barn to play. She was always so good about entertaining herself.’ His voice broke, and he coughed. ‘She often said: “I’m going to the barn to play with the black cat.” So I assume that’s what she did. She played with the cat. It’s a very affectionate animal.’

  ‘Yes, I noticed,’ said Patrik with a smile. ‘So what about the morning when she disappeared? Did you notice anything in or around the barn? The smallest detail might be of interest.’

  Peter frowned. He shook his head.

  ‘No, it was a perfectly ordinary morning. Very quiet.’

  ‘Do you ever go up in the hayloft?’

  ‘No. I don’t think we’ve been up there since we bought the place. And we forbade Nea to go up there. There’s no railing, and no hay to break her fall if she got too close to the edge. She knew she wasn’t supposed to go up there.’

  ‘Was she an obedient child?’

  ‘Yes, she is … she was. Not like some children who do the opposite of what they’re told. If we said she wasn’t to go up in the loft on her own, she wouldn’t do it.’

  ‘How was Nea with other people? With strangers? Would she trust someone she didn’t know?’

  ‘I’m afraid we probably didn’t teach Nea enough about the fact that some people aren’t very nice. She loved everybody and thought all people were good. Everyone she met was her best friend. She also said all the time that the black cat was her best friend, so I suppose I should add that both people and animals were her best friends.’