My husband is a police officer, so he’s involved in the search.’
‘Oh no. Good gracious.’
Viola was struggling to find the right words. No doubt she was experiencing the same flood of emotions that Erica had on hearing the news.
‘It’s a strange coincidence,’ said Erica. ‘Too strange. And the girl is the same age as Stella. Four years old.’
‘Oh, dear God,’ said Viola. ‘Maybe she just got lost. That farm is in a rather remote spot, isn’t it?’
‘Yes, it is. I hope that’s what happened.’
But Erica could see Viola wasn’t convinced either.
‘Did your father write down any notes on the case? Do you think he might have saved some of the investigative materials at home?’
‘Not that I’m aware of,’ replied Viola. ‘My two brothers and I took care of Pappa’s estate after he died, but I can’t recall seeing anything. I can check with my brothers, but I don’t think there were any notebooks or case files. If there were, I’m afraid we must have thrown them out. None of us are sentimental about saving things. We believe we keep our memories in here.’
She placed her hand on her heart.
Erica knew what she meant and wished she was the same way. She had a hard time getting rid of things with sentimental value, and Patrik was always joking that he was married to a hoarder.
‘Please do ask them. And here’s my phone number, in case you happen to find anything. Or if you remember something your father said about the case. Anything at all. Don’t hesitate to phone, no matter how insignificant it might seem. You never know.’
Erica took a business card from her purse and handed it to Viola, who studied it for a moment before setting it on the table.
‘Such awful news about that little girl. I hope they find her,’ she said, shaking her head.
‘I hope so too,’ replied Erica, again glancing at her mobile.
Still no message from Patrik.
‘Well, thank you,’ she said, getting up to leave. ‘I’ll try to stop by the gallery on Friday if I can. I love your paintings.’
‘I hope to see you then,’ said Viola, blushing at Erica’s praise.
As Erica headed for her car, the scent from the roses lingered in her nostrils. And Viola’s words rang in her ears.
Leif had harboured doubts that Marie and Helen were guilty.
It felt as if they’d been waiting for an eternity, but an hour after Mellberg made the call, Torbjörn Ruud and his team of technicians from Uddevalla came walking through the woods. Patrik ushered them towards the tree trunk a couple of metres inside the area he had cordoned off.
‘Oh hell,’ said Torbjörn. Patrik nodded.
He knew crime scene techs had seen just about everything, and over time they couldn’t help but become inured to the horror. But dead children never ceased to affect them. The contrast between the vitality of a young child and the utter finality of death felt like a punch in the solar plexus.
‘Is that where she is?’ asked Torbjörn.
‘Under the tree trunk,’ Patrik confirmed. ‘I haven’t gone over to check. I wanted to wait for you to get here so as to avoid having anyone else walking through the site. According to the men who found her, there’s a hollow space, and her body was shoved inside. That’s why we didn’t find her earlier, even though we searched this area several times.’
‘Are those the men who found her?’
Torbjörn pointed at Harald, Johannes and Karim, who were standing a short distance away.
‘Yes. I asked them to stay here, so you could make sure nothing at the crime scene came from them. I assume you’ll want to photograph their shoes to identify which footprints are theirs.’
‘That’s right,’ said Torbjörn. He rattled off some instructions to one of the techs he’d brought along. Then he put on a protective suit and pulled plastic coverings over his shoes. Patrik did the same.
‘Come on,’ said Torbjörn when they were both ready.
Patrik took a deep breath and followed him over to the tree. He steeled himself for what they were about to see, but the sight still upset him so much that for a moment he froze. The first thing he saw was a child’s hand. As he’d been told, the little girl’s naked body had been stuffed into a hollow in the ground underneath the tree. She was curled up as if in a foetal position. Her face was turned towards them, though partially hidden by her hand, which was black with dirt. Her blond hair was covered with dirt and leaves, and Patrik had to stop himself from bending down to brush off the debris. Who could have done such a thing? What kind of person would do that? Fury rushed through his veins, giving him the strength to do what he had to do. It helped him to remain cold and professional, putting his own feelings aside until later. He owed it to the little girl and her parents. And after many years of working together, he knew Torbjörn would be doing the same.
They squatted down next to each other and took in all the details. The child’s body was mostly hidden from view, making it impossible to tell the cause of death. That would come later. What mattered at the moment was securing any evidence the perpetrator might have left behind.
‘I’ll step away for a while and let your team get to work,’ said Patrik. ‘Let me know when we can lift her out. I want to help.’
Torbjörn nodded, and signalled for the techs to move in and begin the meticulous task of collecting evidence from the area surrounding the tree. It was a task that could not be hurried. The smallest strand of hair, a cigarette butt, a piece of plastic, everything found in the area would have to be photographed, placed in plastic bags, and labelled. Any footprints in the loose soil would have to be lifted by pouring a viscous substance into the indentation; once the substance hardened, the techs could remove the entire footprint and take it back to the lab for comparison. It was time-consuming work, and having participated in a number of homicide investigations, Patrik had learned to curb his impatience and allow Torbjörn and his team to do their job in peace. The evidence they collected would be vital when the murderer was brought to trial. If anything was lost due to carelessness, it might harm their case.
Patrik stepped beyond the cordoned-off area and took up position a short distance away. Right now he didn’t have the energy to talk to anyone. He needed to gather his thoughts and prepare for what had to be done. The first twenty-four hours of an investigation were crucial; they needed to trace witnesses before they had time to forget what they’d seen, and to ensure that evidence was gathered before it could be erased or damaged by the elements, or by the perpetrator returning to remove all traces. A lot could happen in twenty-four hours, so it was important to prioritize. In theory, Mellberg, as the station chief, should have been in charge of this, but in practice the responsibility fell on Patrik’s shoulders.
He got out his mobile to text Erica and let her know he’d be late. She’d be wondering what was going on, and he trusted her to be discreet and keep the news to herself until he gave her the all clear. But there was no reception, so he put his phone back in his pocket. He’d ring her later.
It
