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

by Camilla Lackberg

  ‘They’re linked to the police emergency switchboard. If someone presses the button, the police are instantly notified. At the same time, the speaker on the telephone is activated, so the police can hear what’s happening in the flat.’

  ‘What about the legal issues? Custody of the children, and so on? Don’t the women have to appear in court?’ asked Patrik.

  ‘It can be handled by an ombuds-person. So that’s something we can resolve.’ Leila reached up to tuck a lock of hair behind her ear. Her hair was cut in a neat page-boy style.

  ‘We’d like to take a closer look at the more problematic cases that you handled while Mats was working here,’ said Patrik.

  ‘Okay. But the cases aren’t sorted individually, and not everything is accessible. We send most of the paperwork to social services when the women move out, and we don’t keep documents beyond a year. I’ll get out what we have, and then you can go through everything and see what you can find.’ She held up an admonitory finger. ‘As I said, I don’t want anything to leave this office, so you’ll have to take notes.’ She stood up and went over to the file cabinets.

  ‘Here you are,’ said Leila, placing about twenty file folders in front of them. ‘I’m going out for lunch now, so you can sit here undisturbed. I’ll be back in an hour, if you have any questions.’

  ‘Thanks,’ said Patrik. He gave the stack of files a discouraged look. This was going to take time. And they didn’t even know what they were looking for.

  Erica didn’t manage to stay very long at the library as both twins decided to take only a short nap, but at least she made a start. When she wrote about true crime cases she had to spend long hours doing meticulous research, which she found just as interesting as the actual writing process. And now she wanted to continue looking into the legends of Ghost Isle.

  She had to force herself to put all thought of Gråskär aside, because as soon as she turned the pram on to the driveway in front of their house in Sälvik, the twins began crying loudly. They were hungry. She hurried inside and quickly prepared two bottles of formula, feeling guilty that she was so happy not to be breastfeeding them.

  ‘Now, now. Slow down a bit, sweetie,’ she said to Noel.

  He was always the greedier of the two. Sometimes he’d take such big gulps that he’d end up nearly choking. Anton, on the other hand, was slower, and it took him twice as long to drink a whole bottle. Erica felt like Super-Mamma as she sat there with a bottle in each hand, feeding the two babies simultaneously. Both boys had their gaze fixed on her, and she felt herself going cross-eyed from trying to look at both of them at once. So much love directed at her.

  ‘All right then. Do you feel better? Do you think your mother could take off her coat now?’ she said with a laugh when she discovered that she was still wearing both her coat and her shoes.

  She placed each boy in his carrycot, hung her coat in the front hall, removed her shoes, and carried the babies into the living room. Then she sat down on the sofa and propped her feet up on the coffee table.

  ‘Mamma will do something useful in a while. But first she needs to spend a little time with Oprah.’

  The boys seemed to ignore her.

  ‘Is it boring when your big sister isn’t home?’

  At first Erica had let Maja stay home as much as possible, but after a while she noticed that her daughter was going stir-crazy. She needed to be with other children, and she missed the day-care centre. That was a big change from the awful period when leaving Maja at the centre felt like initiating a minor world war.

  ‘Why don’t we pick her up early today? What do you boys think about that?’ She interpreted their silence as agreement. ‘Mamma hasn’t even had her coffee yet,’ she said, getting to her feet. ‘And you know how Mamma gets when she hasn’t had coffee. “Un poco loco”, as Pappa usually says. Not that we should pay too much attention to everything he says.’

  Erica laughed and went into the kitchen to make herself a pot of coffee. The light was blinking on the answering machine. She hadn’t noticed before. Someone had actually taken the trouble to leave a message, so she pressed the button to play it back. When she heard the voice on the machine, she dropped the coffee scoop and pressed her hand to her mouth.

  ‘Hi, sis. It’s me. Anna. Provided you don’t have any other sisters, that is. I’m a bit worse for wear, and I’ve got the world’s lousiest hairdo. But I’m here. I think. Almost, at any rate. And I know that you’ve been here and that you’ve been worried. I can’t promise that …’ The voice rambled on. It was raspy and sounded different, with an underlying hint of pain. ‘I just wanted to say that I’m here now.’ Click.

  Erica didn’t move for a couple of seconds. Then she slowly sank to the floor and began to cry. She was still holding the coffee pot in a tight grip.

  ‘Don’t you have to leave for work soon?’ Rita gave Mellberg a stern look as she changed Leo’s nappy.

  ‘I’m going to be working from home until after lunch.’

  ‘Oh, you’re working at home …’ said Rita, casting a glance at the TV, which was showing a programme about people who built machines from scrap metal and then entered them in competitions.

  ‘I’m gathering my strength. That’s important too. As a police officer it’s easy to get burned out, otherwise.’ Mellberg lifted up Leo and raised him high in the air, making the boy whoop with laughter.

  Rita relented. She couldn’t stay angry with Bertil. Of course she saw what others saw: that he was a boor, that he could be terribly loutish, and sometimes he couldn’t see beyond his own nose. Plus he never wanted to do more than the bare minimum of work. But at the same time, she saw another side of him. How he beamed whenever Leo was near, how he never hesitated to change a nappy or get up in the middle of the night if the baby was crying. How he treated her like a queen and looked at her as if she were God’s gift to humanity. He had even thrown himself with enthusiasm into learning to dance the salsa, which was her passion in life. He would never be king of the dance floor, but he was able to lead quite decently, without causing too much damage to her feet. She also knew that he loved his son Simon with all his heart. Simon, who would soon turn seventeen, had come into Mellberg’s life only a few years back, but every time his name came up in conversation, pride shone in Bertil’s eyes. And he was always eager to keep in touch with his son and make himself available. For all of these reasons, Rita loved Bertil Mellberg so much that sometimes it felt as if her heart would burst.

  She went into the kitchen. As she began fixing lunch, her concern about the girls returned. She had noticed that something wasn’t right between them. It made her sad to see the unhappy expression on Paula’s face. She suspected that even Paula didn’t really know what was wrong. Johanna had closed herself off, withdrawing from all of them, not just from Paula. Maybe she felt it was too much to live in such close quarters with others. Rita could understand if Johanna didn’t find it exactly ideal to be sharing the flat with Paula’s mother and her boyfriend, not to mention the two dogs. At the same time, it was very practical to have Bertil and herself here, able to step in as babysitters for Leo during the day when the girls were at work.

  It must be difficult though, and she realized she ought to encourage them to look for their own flat. But as she stirred the stew, she felt a pang in her heart at the thought of not being able to lift Leo out of his cot in the morning when he sat there, wide awake and smiling up at her. Rita wiped away her tears. It must be the onions in the stew; she couldn’t very well be standing here crying in the middle of the day. She swallowed hard and hoped that the girls would work things out on their own. After tasting the stew she added another pinch of chilli powder. If it failed to send heat through her whole body, she knew she hadn’t put in enough.

  Bertil’s mobile, which was lying on the kitchen table, began ringing. She went over to look at the display. The station. They’re probably wondering where he is, she thought as she carried the phone into the living room. Bertil was sitting on the
sofa, sound asleep with his head tilted back and his mouth open. Leo was curled up on his big belly. His little fist was curved around his cheek, and he was sleeping with calm, deep breaths that made his chest rise and fall in time with his uncle Bertil’s. Rita switched off the phone. The station would just have to wait. Bertil had more important things to do at the moment.

  ‘So I take it that Saturday was a big hit,’ said Anders, giving Vivianne a searching look. She seemed tired, and he wondered whether she realized how great a toll this was taking on her. Maybe their past had finally caught up with them. But he knew better than to say anything; she didn’t want to hear it. She was so stubborn and determined, which was the very reason why she, and possibly he too, had survived. He had always been dependent on her. His sister had taken care of him, done everything for him. But he wondered whether things had started to change, and they were slowly switching roles.

  ‘How’s it going with Erling?’ he asked, prompting a grimace from Vivianne.

  ‘Well, if it weren’t for the fact that he sleeps so soundly at night, I don’t think I could stand it,’ she said with a joyless laugh.

  ‘We’re almost there,’ he said in an attempt to console her, but he could see that she wasn’t really listening. Vivianne had always possessed a special sort of inner light, and even though no one else had noticed, he could see that it was fading.

  ‘Do you think they’ll find the laptop?’

  Vivianne gave a start.

  ‘No. They would have found it by now if it was going to turn up.’

  ‘I suppose you’re right.’

  Neither of them spoke for a moment.

  ‘I tried to ring you yesterday,’ Vivianne said hesitantly.

  Anders felt his body tense.

  ‘Really?’

  ‘You didn’t pick up all evening.’

  ‘I must have switched off my mobile,’ he said evasively.

  ‘All evening?’

  ‘I was tired, so I took a bath and read for a while. I also spent some time going over the reports.’

  ‘Oh. Right,’ she said, but he could hear that she didn’t believe him.

  In the past they’d never kept secrets from one another, but that too had changed. At the same time, they felt closer to each other than ever before. He was having a hard time working out what he wanted. Now that the goal was within reach, things suddenly didn’t seem as clear as they had, and his thoughts were keeping him awake at night, making him toss and turn in bed. Things no longer seemed as simple as they once had.

  How was he going to tell her this? The words had been on the tip of his tongue so many times, but when he opened his mouth, nothing came out. He couldn’t do it. There was so much that he owed her. He could still smell the stink of cigarettes and liquor, hear the clinking of glasses and the sound of people moaning like animals. He and Vivianne had lain curled up together in her bed. She had held him close, and even though she wasn’t much bigger than him, she had felt like a giant emanating a sense of security that would protect him from all evil.

  ‘I hear that Saturday was a big success!’ exclaimed Erling as he came out of the toilet, wiping his wet hands on his trouser legs. ‘I just talked to Bertil, and he practically waxed poetic about the whole experience. You’re amazing. Do you know that?’

  He sat down next to Vivianne and put his arm around her shoulders with a possessive look. Then he delivered a wet kiss to her cheek, and Anders saw how she had to struggle not to pull away. Instead, she smiled sweetly and took a sip of tea from the mug on the table.

  ‘The only complaint was about the food.’ A deep furrow appeared on Erling’s forehead. ‘Bertil wasn’t particularly thrilled with what was served. I don’t know whether the others shared his opinion, but he’s the one who takes the lead, of course, and we ought to listen to our customers.’

  ‘Exactly what was wrong with the food?’ asked Vivianne. She spoke in an icy tone, but Erling didn’t notice.

  ‘Apparently there were far too many vegetables, and also a few strange items, from what I understood. And there wasn’t much gravy either. So Bertil suggested that we offer a more traditional menu that would appeal to a wider range of people. Good, plain food, in other words.’ Erling’s face lit up with enthusiasm, as if he anticipated a standing ovation.

  Vivianne, however, had reached her limit. She stood up, fixing her eyes on Erling.

  ‘It sounds as though their time at the spa was completely wasted. I thought you understood my philosophy, my view of what’s important for both the body and soul. We’re concerned with health here, and we serve food that will provide positive energy and strength, not rubbish that will lead to heart attacks and cancer.’ She turned on her heel and walked swiftly away. Her long plait swayed in time with her footsteps.

  ‘Oh dear,’ said Erling, clearly taken aback at the reception to his suggestion. ‘Looks like I really put my foot in it this time.’

  ‘You might say that,’ replied Anders drily. Erling could behave however he liked. Soon it wouldn’t make any difference. Then worry overwhelmed him again. He was going to have to talk to Vivianne. He was going to have to tell her.

  ‘So what exactly are we looking for?’ asked Martin. He looked up at Patrik, who merely shook his head.

  ‘I don’t really know. I think we need to follow our gut feelings, read through all the material in the folders, and see if there’s anything that we should follow up.’

  They leafed through the documents in silence.

  ‘Bloody hell,’ said Patrik after a while, and Martin nodded.

  ‘And this is just for the past year. Or not even that long. And the Refuge is only one of many women’s crisis centres. We really have no clue about the sort of things that go on in some women’s lives.’ Martin carefully closed up one folder, set it aside, and opened another.

  ‘I can’t understand …’ said Patrik, voicing the thought that had been occupying his mind ever since they arrived at the Refuge.

  ‘What fucking bastards,’ Martin agreed. ‘And it seems like it can happen to anyone. I don’t know Anna very well, but she seems like a strong-minded person who would never end up in the clutches of somebody like her ex-husband.’

  ‘I know what you mean.’ Patrik scowled at the thought of Lucas. Thank God all that was behind them now, but that man had managed to cause so much pain for his family before he died. ‘It’s hard to understand why a woman would stay with a man who beats her.’

  Martin set another folder on the desk and took a deep breath.

  ‘I wonder what it’s like for the people who work here and have to deal with this on a daily basis. Maybe it’s not so strange that Sverin would decide that he’d had enough and wanted to move back home.’

  ‘I can see why they have that rule about staff not getting too involved, and why they’re constantly changing the individual in contact with each woman. Otherwise it would be practically impossible not to get personally involved.’

  ‘Do you think that might have been what happened to Mats?’ asked Martin. ‘Could the assault be connected with someone here? Leila used the word “obsessed”. Maybe one of the men decided that Sverin was more than just a contact person and decided to give him a warning.’

  Patrik nodded. ‘I’ve been thinking along the same lines. But in that case, who would it be?’ He pointed to the stack of folders on the desk. ‘Leila claims to know nothing about it, and I don’t think there’s any point trying to pressure her for more information at this stage.’

  ‘We could talk to the other staff members. Maybe we could even talk to a couple of the women. I can imagine that a lot of gossiping goes on, and if what we’re theorizing really happened then that sort of news would spread fast.’

  ‘Hmm … could be,’ said Patrik. ‘But I’d like to have more facts before we do any real digging here.’

  ‘How are we going to find out more?’ Martin impatiently ran his hands through his short red hair, making it stand on end.

  ‘I think we shoul
d talk to the neighbours in the block of flats where Mats was living. The assault took place right outside the front door, so maybe somebody saw something but never reported it. And now we have the names of the women that Mats was the contact for, so hopefully we’ll have a reason to come back.’

  ‘Okay.’ Martin bowed his head and went on reading.

  They closed up the last folder just as Leila came dashing into the office. She hung her jacket and handbag on a hanger.

  ‘Did you find anything interesting?’

  ‘We’re not sure yet. But at least we have the names of the women that Mats dealt with. Thanks for letting us look at the files.’ Patrik gathered up the folders in a neat pile, and then Leila put them back in the file cabinet.

  ‘You’re welcome. I do hope you realize that we’re willing to do whatever we can to cooperate with you.’ She leaned against the shelf that held three-ring binders.

  ‘We appreciate that,’ said Patrik. Then he and Martin stood up.

  ‘We were very fond of Matte. He was the kind of person who didn’t have a bad bone in his body. Keep that in mind as you work on the case.’

  ‘We’ll do that,’ said Patrik, shaking hands. ‘Believe me, we’ll do that.’

  ‘Why doesn’t a single person answer their damn phone?’ snapped Paula.

  ‘Not even Mellberg?’ said Gösta.

  ‘No. Nor Patrik. And Martin’s mobile goes straight to his voicemail, so he must have switched it off.’

  ‘I’m not too surprised about Mellberg. He’s probably home asleep. But we can usually get hold of Hedström.’

  ‘He must be tied up. In the meantime we’ll have to deal with this ourselves and bring them up to date later.’ She drove into the car park for Uddevalla Hospital and stopped the car.

  ‘I assume they’re in Intensive Care,’ she said, leading the way to the entrance.

  They made straight for the lift and waited impatiently for it to carry them up to the correct floor.

  ‘A nasty business,’ said Gösta.

  ‘Yes, I can imagine how worried their parents must be. Where could they have got hold of shit like that? They’re only seven years old.’