As if to confirm her thoughts, her mood immediately dropped to freezing point as the heavy door of the chamber opened and Malin Åkerblad walked in. The prosecutor stopped just inside as the door closed behind her; she looked around, spotted Vanja and came over.
‘You found her. The girl,’ she said quietly in her husky voice.
‘Obviously.’ Vanja kept her eyes fixed on her boss.
‘Can she identify the killer?’
‘We don’t know yet, we haven’t questioned her.’ She sensed Malin nodding to herself. ‘I thought you weren’t due back until tomorrow?’ Vanja said, unable to hide the fact that this would have been preferable as far as she was concerned. Actually, she would have preferred it if Åkerblad hadn’t come back at all.
‘Is Sebastian here?’ Malin asked, gazing around the chamber as though she hadn’t heard Vanja’s comment. Vanja turned and looked at her. No doubt Malin Åkerblad thought she had asked the question in an appropriately casual tone of voice, but there was something else, something more, and Vanja was good at picking up that kind of thing.
Sebastian.
First name, a hint of anticipation, that little unconscious smile.
He’d slept with her.
Vanja really didn’t care how many women Sebastian screwed, or who they were; he clearly had a problem, an addiction perhaps. But Malin Åkerblad?! The incompetent cow who had released the only person who could have moved the investigation forward?
He’d slept with her?!
Personally, Vanja would regard that as the worst punishment of all, but it was obvious that Malin didn’t share her point of view. To her surprise she felt as if Sebastian had let her down. Things had been going well between them since their fresh start; he really seemed to be making an effort to regain her trust. Then he went and slept with their common enemy. In a strange way she felt as if he had rejected her.
‘Is he here?’ Malin repeated when Vanja didn’t respond. ‘I can’t see him.’
‘He’s at the hospital.’
‘Oh, right.’
‘We’ve taken a closer look at Jan Ceder’s circle of acquaintances,’ Vanja went on quickly and quietly before Malin decided to leave. ‘You remember him? He’s the guy you released. The one who got shot.’
Malin didn’t speak, but the look on her face said it all.
‘Anyway, there aren’t many of them. The local police have gone in hard, but those who don’t have an alibi just aren’t capable of doing something like this.’
Malin seemed genuinely puzzled. ‘Why are you telling me this? I want to know when you get results, not when you don’t.’
‘Ceder knew who had his shotgun, and you let him go. It’s a mystery to me why you’re still in charge of the preliminary investigation.’
‘I don’t like your tone.’
‘I don’t like you.’
They weighed each other up. In the background Vanja could hear the question-and-answer session still going on:
‘You said the girl was related to the Carlsten family – in what way?’
‘We don’t need to go into that.’
‘She’s the boys’ cousin, isn’t she?’
‘Next question.’
‘Did she see the killer?’
‘We don’t know, and the less speculation the better.’
Malin took a deep breath as if she was about to say something, then thought better of it. Instead she drew her jacket more tightly around her and got ready to leave. Vanja stopped her.
‘Just one more thing …’
Malin’s expression left no doubt about how little interest she had in anything Vanja had to say.
‘He’s a sex addict. Sebastian. He’ll screw any woman with a pulse. Just so you know what you’re getting into.’
Malin simply turned on her heel and marched out. Vanja couldn’t suppress a satisfied little smile as she turned her attention to what was going on at the front of the room. Torkel was busy gathering up his papers, and a woman Vanja hadn’t seen before took his place on the podium.
‘Good afternoon, everyone, if you could just remain seated for a moment … My name is Pia Flodin, and for those of you who don’t already know, I’m the chair of the council here in Torsby. I’d just like to take this opportunity to thank Torkel Högberg and his team for coming here …’
Vanja met Torkel by the door.
‘Did I see you talking to the prosecutor?’ he asked quietly.
‘You did.’
‘What did she want?’
‘Sebastian, apparently.’
‘Why?’
Torkel raised an eyebrow, but Vanja could see that he already knew the answer.
‘I’ve no idea – what do you think, herr Högberg?’
‘Shut up,’ Torkel said, smiling in spite of himself as he pushed open the door.
Her mind was spinning as fast as the trees were racing by outside.
The police car was speeding, its blue lights casting a vivid reflection on other vehicles as they pulled over to let it through. The woman police officer at the wheel didn’t say a word. Maria Carlsten was sitting in the back, surrounded by the smell of leather and disinfectant, but she couldn’t quite remember how she had ended up there.
They had found Nicole.
She was alive.
That was all she knew right now.
She should be happy. Ecstatic. But that was impossible. Completely impossible.
The past twenty-four hours had been the worst day of Maria’s life. She was cold, sweaty, exhausted and finding it difficult to focus with her eyes. She couldn’t remember when she had last slept, but she was still finding it hard to sit still. She felt as if tiny creatures were crawling all over her body. The panic that had seized her when she got the call in Bamako was still there, twisting and turning inside her, making her feel sick. She opened the window to get some fresh air. The draught made a whistling sound; the gap was too small. She lowered the window a little further, and the noise stopped. She moved her head closer and the cold air blew onto her face. It was nice, although the interior of the car soon felt chilly. She closed her eyes and tried to suppress her fear.
She knew Nicole was alive.
She ought to be relieved, she realised that, but the guilt was in the way. Behind Nicole stood a family that had been wiped out. Maria’s little sister Karin, Emil and the boys. She had no idea how to reconcile her joy and her grief.
It was inhuman. A wave of nausea swept over her, leaving a nasty taste in her dry mouth. She fumbled for the bottle of water the police officer had given her, took a swig of the tepid liquid, letting it fill her mouth. Swilled it around, then swallowed. Looked out again at the trees. Felt the wind in her face. Shivered, but didn’t do anything about it. It seemed somehow appropriate.
She was on her way to an inhuman place.
A place that held both the greatest sorrow and the greatest joy.
★ ★ ★
The large two-storey building with a sign reading ‘Torsby Hospital’ appeared all of a sudden. For a while it had seemed as if the police car would keep on driving for ever and ever, that she would be on the way to her daughter for all eternity, and never arrive.
Then all at once she was there.
Only a few metres from the person she longed to see.
What would happen now? Would she regain control, or would things continue to happen without her being able to influence them in any way?
Whatever. She couldn’t wait; she surprised herself by opening the door before the car had stopped completely. She wanted to run inside, find her daughter, never leave her again. The policewoman leaned towards her and raised her voice for the first time.
‘Wait! They want you to wait here. They’re going to take you in through the back.’
Maria was furious, overcome with anger at everything that had happened. At last, she thought. It was high time. It gave her an energy she hadn’t believed she could summon up.
‘I’m not waiting any longer!’ she said
firmly, pushing the door wide open. She was going to find her child.
She ran towards the big glass doors. They would open, and Nicole would be there. Behind her she could hear the policewoman calling again:
‘Wait! Maria, wait!’
Maria glanced over her shoulder to see if the woman was coming after her to try and stop her, but she was just standing there shouting. Maria hadn’t expected it to be so easy. She increased her speed; the entrance was right in front of her. It was so good to get some oxygen in her lungs, feel the strength in her muscles. She didn’t even feel sick any more. The reddish-brown building came closer; she could see people moving around behind the glass.
Nearly there.
Nothing could stop her.
Nothing.
‘Maria Carlsten?’
Someone was calling her name. She tried to ignore the man who was getting up from a bench a few metres from the entrance. He was wearing a green parka that was rather too big for him, and brown trousers. She could see that he was going to cut her off, block her path. She speeded up even more; she had no intention of stopping.
‘I don’t have time,’ she snapped. The man took two steps towards her. He was tall, slightly overweight, but she was sure she could get past him. Push him out of the way if necessary.
‘I’m the one who found Nicole.’ His voice was calm, tentative, and she immediately believed him. ‘I need to speak to you,’ he went on.
Maria lost her impetus. Her strength drained away in seconds. She turned to the man who was simply standing there waiting for her, utterly self-assured.
‘My name is Sebastian Bergman,’ he said, holding out his hand. ‘I work as a psychologist with Riksmord. Your daughter is fine, I promise.’
‘I have to see her,’ she said, her tone almost pleading. ‘That’s all I want.’
‘You will see her, but I need to have a word with you first.’
He glanced around, slipped a hand under her arm and led her away from the doors.
‘Come with me. There are quite a few reporters in there.’
Maria obediently complied; she didn’t have the energy to resist any more. She saw the policewoman over by the car give a nod of acknowledgement to the man who had taken over responsibility for her. The two of them cut across the turning area, heading for the entrance used by emergency vehicles. There was an ambulance parked outside at an odd angle, next to several green benches. One of the paramedics was having a smoke. That was something Maria could never understand; how could hospital staff, the very people who probably knew most about the damaging effects of nicotine, carry on smoking? Sebastian stopped at the first bench; they sat down, and he turned to face her.
‘OK. The doctors have examined Nicole, and from a purely physical point of view, she’s doing pretty well. She’s tired and dehydrated, but nothing serious.’
She could tell from his tone that there was something else he wanted to say. Something he was keeping back.
‘So why do you need to talk to me, if everything’s fine?’ Sebastian took a deep breath before he went on:
‘Because she won’t talk. Nicole hasn’t spoken at all since I found her.’
The words hurt. They were so heavy, in spite of the fact that there were so few of them. She removed his hand from her arm. She understood what he had said, and yet she didn’t.
‘What do you mean? Surely she must have said something?’
Sebastian shook his head.
‘Not one word. The doctors can’t find any physical cause.’
The anxiety and the nausea came flooding back.
‘Maria, listen to me. It isn’t unusual for traumatised individuals to retreat inside themselves, particularly children. It’s a psychological reaction, a powerful flight mechanism, a way of protecting themselves from extreme experiences. And Nicole has lived through something truly horrific.’
‘Did she see them being killed? My sister and … the others?’
Sebastian was afraid the information might be too much for her, but she had to find out at some point.
‘Yes.’
He watched her carefully. At first it seemed as if she wanted to say something, but then she looked down at the ground instead. Sat there in silence. Then she began to cry. Silent sobs, shaking her whole body. Sebastian took her hand, pushed back her long dark hair and looked into her exhausted, red-rimmed eyes. The epitome of a person who couldn’t take much more.
‘Nicole will get better. She just needs time to heal in peace and quiet. And she needs the support of the person who loves her the most.’
Maria nodded cautiously. She wanted that to be true, but there was so much guilt in the way.
‘It’s my fault. I left her. I wasn’t here when it happened.’
Sebastian squeezed her hand.
‘But you’re here now. That’s the most important thing. You can’t change what’s happened, and if you had been there, you’d be dead too. Do you understand that?’
Maria took in what he had said. It seemed to help a little; she looked up at him with slightly more focus than before.
‘But how long will it be?’ she asked after a while. ‘Before she starts talking?’ Sebastian tried to put a positive spin on things, even though he hadn’t a clue.
‘It could take a few hours. A few days. A few weeks.’ He decided he couldn’t lie; he knew far too little at the moment. ‘Even longer if we’re really unlucky, but that’s not very likely. What we need to find out now is whether her mutism, which is the correct term, is selective or total.’
‘I don’t understand.’
‘She might talk to someone with whom she feels safe. That’s called selective mutism, and it’s much more common than total mutism. Does that make sense?’
There was a glimmer of hope in Maria’s eyes.
‘You mean she might talk to me? But no one else?’
Sebastian nodded encouragingly. ‘That might well be the case.’
This seemed to give Maria a fresh burst of restless energy.
‘When can I see her?’
‘Soon,’ Sebastian said, but then he hesitated. Should he tell her about their suspicions, or not? Once again, he came to the conclusion that she had to know. There was no way around it.
‘We’re working on the theory that Nicole might well have seen the killer.’
Maria nodded slowly, as if the quota of shocks had now been filled, and nothing could surprise her any more.
‘So if she tells you anything, you have to tell me,’ Sebastian went on calmly.
Another nod. ‘I really need to see my daughter now.’
‘OK, let’s go,’ he said, getting to his feet.
★ ★ ★
They walked in silence along the hospital corridor, passing room after room with identical doors. The only sound was the rustle of their clothing. Sebastian slowed down as they reached the end of the corridor and turned the corner. Outside the next room a uniformed police officer was sitting on a chair that appeared to have been borrowed from one of the waiting areas. Sebastian recognised him from the station in Torsby. Dennis, was that his name? He got to his feet as soon as he saw them.
‘Is this the mother?’ he asked, far too loudly. Sebastian looked at him with displeasure.
‘Yes. She’s to have free access to this room. And by the way, an order has gone out stating that her anonymity is to be protected, so perhaps you could avoid yelling at the top of your voice next time you see her.’ Dennis lowered his eyes, clearly embarrassed, and apologised. He stepped aside to let them in.
The room contained four beds, but only the one nearest the window was in use. The girl seemed to be asleep; she was curled up in a little ball under the blanket Sebastian had placed over her, and all he could see was a few strands of her dark hair. Nicole’s body signalled anxiety and vulnerability, as if she was trying to make herself as small and invisible as possible, even in her sleep. Maria moved uncertainly towards the bed. Sebastian could see that she was finding it difficult to work
out what to do; part of her wanted nothing more than to dash forward and hug her daughter, but the fragility of the sleeping child held her back. She turned to Sebastian.
‘Are you sure she’s all right?’ she asked nervously. ‘She doesn’t usually sleep like that.’
Sebastian merely nodded. What could he say? Maria would have to discover for herself the consequences of what had happened to her daughter.
She edged closer to the bed, then slowly bent down. Pulled back the blanket just a fraction, so that she could see Nicole’s face. With gentle, loving caresses she smoothed back the child’s hair, getting as close as she dared without waking her.
‘I was terrified I’d never see you again, sweetheart. I was so scared.’ Her fingertips were just touching Nicole’s mouth and cheeks; she was clearly enjoying the feeling of skin on skin.
‘But here you are. Here you are,’ she went on, as if every repetition made the girl more real, more alive. She leaned over and kissed her forehead – for a long time, as if she didn’t want her lips to leave her daughter. Maria’s body suddenly started shaking, and Sebastian heard muted sobs as all the tension and fear ebbed away. Nicole really was alive. The proof was there in front of her; she could actually touch her.
Sebastian knew that he ought to withdraw, leave the intimate scene being played out in front of him. Not only would it be respectful, it was the reasonable thing to do. Maria needed some privacy with Nicole after everything that had happened. Instead he moved forward. The encounter touched him deeply, and he couldn’t walk away. This was what he had hoped to experience. Admittedly with a different parent and a different daughter, but in this hospital room in northern Värmland he saw the reunion for real. He felt a stab of envy.
No one had come to his aid and saved Sabine.
No one had led him into a room to be reunited with his child.
No one.
He tried to push away the unpleasant feelings. He wanted to keep the purity of this moment. It was too beautiful to be distorted into something painful. He could see hope right there in front of him, and he needed hope in his life. He was already all too familiar with sorrow and grief.
The Silent Girl (Sebastian Bergman 4) Page 17