Lycke

by Mikaela Bley

  ‘That sort of thing can be hard to see. We have our reasons, but I’m not prepared to go into them right now.’

  Ellen tried to repress the horrible images that appeared in her mind at the thought of someone doing something so vile.

  ‘So you think it’s a paedophile? Why would he kill her and then wrap her up?’

  ‘Our profile points in that direction, yes. And in answer to your second question, he probably didn’t know what to do with her. The majority of paedophiles don’t think they’ve committed a crime. They think they are satisfying the child, too.’

  ‘So first he “satisfies her” and then he kills her?’

  ‘It may have gone wrong. There can be a thousand reasons for it. The police have to focus on the facts that are available to them. We don’t believe. We don’t speculate, either. We let the existing facts lead us in the right direction.’

  ‘But what facts are there?’

  ‘Well, for example, what we just talked about.’

  ‘How did she get to the pump?’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Was she carried there or was she dragged along in the grass?’

  ‘She was dragged there.’

  ‘If it had been someone strong, wouldn’t they have carried her?’

  ‘Maybe …’

  How could they be so narrow-minded? It was as if they were stuck on a lead and couldn’t go further. Maybe it was the same thing with her? Maybe she, too, was caught up in the idea that it should be a woman and was blind to anything that didn’t support her theory.

  ‘Couldn’t it have been a woman?’ she tried anyway.

  ‘A woman? That’s highly unlikely.’

  ‘On the basis of statistics?’

  ‘Yes, among other things. There’s nothing that indicates it might be a woman.’

  ‘Where were the mother and the stepmother when Lycke disappeared?’

  ‘Both have confirmed alibis.’

  ‘Have you seen that there was a messy divorce and a custody dispute?’

  ‘Yes, of course we’ve checked into that.’

  ‘What do you say about the fact that the mother most likely knew that there was no tennis — or at least that she was sent the cancellation email?’

  ‘Do you think the police aren’t doing their job? We haven’t written off anyone. We are conducting interviews with everyone, but we now have information that points our suspicions in a different direction.’

  ‘What information?’

  ‘Unfortunately, I can’t go into that right now. I have a job I have to get back to.’

  ‘But wait, did you find anything on Lycke’s computer?’

  He hung up.

  She called him again.

  ‘Hello —’ he answered.

  ‘Ove, if —’ she started, but then realised it was pointless.

  ‘— you’ve reached Ove Svensson at the police department, I can’t —’

  ‘Arsehole,’ she screamed loudly.

  She went into the kitchen to get coffee and then went back into the editing room.

  She went into TV4 Play, the channel’s streaming service, and searched for the clip with Lycke’s mother. She looked at it from beginning to end, and then went through it again. Paused and zoomed in. Looked at it, frame by frame, in slow motion.

  It was as she’d thought. There were no tears falling down Helena’s cheeks. She was drying her cheeks as if she was crying. Ellen thought then of what Philip had said about Helena wanting him to make her up to look sad.

  Before she could think any more about it, the phone rang again.

  ‘Ellen, sorry that I haven’t been in touch sooner.’

  It was Clara, the producer of The Unknown.

  ‘There’s been so much going on here. How’s it going? It’s so awful about that little girl. But unfortunately — I’m so sorry, but no medium from The Unknown can help out. And now it’s too late. I’m so embarrassed that I wasn’t able to call sooner. The police don’t want this kind of help; they think it’s hocus-pocus and that it delays their work. Our mediums have actually gotten tired of it.’

  Ellen sighed. Just as Clara said, it was too late anyway.

  ‘Have they said anything about Lycke? Maybe they can still see more than we and the police can?’

  ‘No, unfortunately. Nothing. I wish there was something I could do.’

  ‘Thanks, Clara. It was nice that you tried to help out. We’ll be in touch.’

  ‘Oh, wait,’ Clara said. ‘Mingus, one of our mediums, did say something actually — but I don’t know, maybe it’s not anything of value.’

  ‘Go ahead, tell me,’ said Ellen.

  ‘There was something about the girl, he said. Something dark. He said it’s not in the way you might think; that there are many people responsible for the girl’s death, but there was one who finally pushed the button. I really tried, but he didn’t want to say more. As I said, maybe that won’t lead to anything. I don’t know.’

  Ellen thanked her again and ended the call. She was thinking about what Clara had said, when there was a knock at the door. It was Web.

  ‘Listen, sorry if I’m disturbing you. I have something here that we’d missed. There’ve been quite a few tips, and we’re having a hard time keeping up with them, if you understand.’

  ‘Okay …’ It was driving Ellen crazy that he was speaking so slowly.

  ‘Well, anyway, we received a tip from a woman who’d seen a flasher in Lill-Jansskogen the day Lycke disappeared. A young man, probably in his twenties. Apparently, she’s sent it to the police, too, so they’ve probably checked up on it, but you can read more here.’ He handed her a piece of paper.

  Is this why the police are persisting with the paedophile theory? she wondered.

  ‘Thanks,’ Ellen said, taking the print-out of the email from him, wondering at the same time why Web hadn’t just emailed her.

  She closed the door and read the email. It had been sent last Sunday.

  The woman who sent the email had been bicycling through the Lill-Jansskogen forest reserve, in the vicinity of the Royal Tennis Hall. It was in the afternoon, and she was on her way to Sophiahemmet, the private hospital on Valhallavägen, when she saw the flasher in the woods. A tall man in a dark coat. It was the same day that Lycke disappeared.

  Why hadn’t Ove told her this?

  Her phone buzzed. She’d received a message from Philip.

  I think you’re on the right track. They say that a girl steals her mother’s beauty. There’s your motive. xoxo

  She smiled briefly at how different from each other people’s perspectives could be.

  Under grooming she wrote envy. There it was again. It had been a recurring theme. She had to go on what she had, despite everything Ove had said. She had to rely on her gut feeling.

  Lycke’s mother.

  Calling wouldn’t work. She’d already tried that a number of times. She had also emailed, but Helena hadn’t responded to that either, of course.

  It didn’t look like any reporters had been able to contact her. There had been no further interviews. A photographer managed to catch her when she was taking out the rubbish — and Lycke’s toys appeared to be among the garbage. Speculation was running wild. Ellen almost felt sorry for her.

  There was a knock at the door again.

  It was Agatha.

  ‘I’ve got an answer about the speed camera,’ she said, looking deathly pale.

  THURSDAY, 29 MAY

  ELLEN

  8.00 A.M.

  Ellen stared at the entry to the Ruby Hotel. He has to come out soon, she thought. The staff denied he was there, but she knew they were lying. Harald’s white Range Rover was parked on the other side of the street only a few cars away.

  It was five minutes now since she’d called
reception and left a warning about parking inspectors patrolling the area. Maybe that would get him out.

  There he was! Her trick had worked. Even though she was parked some distance away, she could see that he looked worn out. His back was bent and the stubble on his face had turned into a patchy beard.

  Ellen took a few deep breaths and got out of the car.

  ‘Harald!’

  He looked around in confusion. They made eye contact, but he quickly looked away, continuing toward his car.

  ‘Wait,’ Ellen called, running across the street. ‘Do you have a moment?’

  Harald turned toward her. ‘What are you doing here? I’m in a hurry,’ he said, opening the car door.

  Ellen noticed the two children’s car seats. One was large and faced backwards — presumably, Lycke’s half-brother’s — and one was simpler, more of a cushion, and presumably had been Lycke’s.

  ‘I haven’t had time to remove it yet,’ he said apologetically, as if he’d read her mind. ‘What is it you want?’

  His scraggly beard and the dark pouches under his eyes made him look like a different person. ‘You know I’d really like to help, but right now I’m in a bit of a hurry. We’re going to see the minister before the memorial service tomorrow.’

  ‘I’m really sorry about everything …’ Ellen said.

  He looked at her and swallowed. ‘Don’t be. You did what you could.’ He jumped up inside the car.

  As he was about to shut the car door, Ellen grabbed hold of it and stopped him.

  ‘I know you weren’t at work when Lycke disappeared.’

  Harald pretended not to hear and turned the key in the ignition. The diesel engine started up with a roar. She recognised the sound from her parents’ cars.

  ‘Like I said, I have to go now,’ he said, trying to close the door again.

  ‘You were caught on camera — the speed camera in Djurgården. Do you remember?’

  It took a few seconds, and then he turned off the engine and stared at her.

  Ellen took a deep breath before continuing. ‘Last Friday, when Lycke disappeared, what were you doing on Djurgården? Right where she was found?’

  Harald continued staring at her. That look. The dark one. She recognised it from the picture she’d seen at Harald and Chloé’s home.

  Suddenly, he thumped the steering wheel.

  ‘Damn it all! Can’t I grieve in peace? What do you want?’

  ‘I want to know what happened to Lycke.’

  ‘What are you trying to say? Do you think I’m the one who killed her? I’m her father, damn it. I don’t get one peaceful moment. Everyone is screaming and tugging on me, and the police are watching me like hawks —’ He looked up. ‘Sorry. I don’t know — it’s just all too much. Jump in, and I’ll show you something.’

  Ellen looked around hesitantly, uncertain how she should proceed.

  ‘Wait, are you afraid of me?’ he asked. ‘Listen, I can explain everything, but there’s something I have to show you.’

  ‘Can’t you just tell me?’ She was far from happy at the thought of getting into his car. Who even knew who this person really was?

  ‘You would never believe me if I told you. Now, hop in.’

  ‘I’m not in a very good spot,’ she said, pointing at her car. ‘But I can follow you,’ she said, suddenly glad that she hadn’t done a better job of parking.

  Ellen drove behind Harald’s Range Rover out onto Birger Jarlsgatan, behind the hotel, and down toward Strandvägen and Djurgården.

  According to Agatha, images were sent automatically from the speed camera directly to the police. So why hadn’t Ove told her that Lycke’s father had been caught on camera? They must have known about that, surely? Could it be that the police hadn’t checked properly? That the departments didn’t communicate with each other? She felt a growing sense of irritation. Why couldn’t people just do their jobs?

  They drove past Skansen and Gröna Lund and continued out toward the Waldemarsudde museum. Were they heading toward the crime scene? Should she turn around?

  Suddenly, he slowed down and drove onto a small gravel road that Ellen hadn’t seen before. They continued along the bumpy little road before coming to a large, dark-brown wooden house with towers and pinnacles. A real run-down old mansion.

  He parked in front of a building on the property that looked like a double garage, but which must have been built long after the house itself. The designs didn’t match at all, and Ellen found herself wondering whether people were actually allowed to build something like that on the island, considering that most of it was historically preserved.

  Harald climbed out of his car and indicated a place for her to park.

  ‘My friend Adam lives here,’ he said, slamming the car door.

  Ellen nodded and looked around, trying to suppress the thought that there wasn’t a neighbour within sight.

  ‘Come along and I’ll show you,’ he said, going toward the garage door. There was a normal-sized door set in the big garage door. It was open. No keys were needed.

  Ellen hesitated.

  ‘Come on,’ he said, holding open the door.

  Ellen squeezed the phone in her pocket, keeping it at the ready in case anything happened.

  She stepped across the threshold and felt his breath on her neck.

  The door closed behind them and it became pitch black.

  ‘Wait, I’ll turn on a light. The switch must be here somewhere.’

  Ellen heard the sound of his hand running along the wall, searching. He grazed against her arm and she jumped.

  Boom.

  The fluorescent light came on.

  ***

  There were no cars in the garage. Tools were hanging along the walls from ceiling to floor, and an old car roof-rack and a surfboard had been suspended from the roof trusses. In one of the corners was a large safe, and beside it sat an orange chest freezer. The kind that opens from the top. No windows anywhere. The only other door was at the far end of the garage.

  Harald strode across the floor.

  Ellen remained where she was by the door, uncertain whether she should follow.

  Harald stopped in front of the chest freezer and turned toward her. ‘Come here,’ he said, waving her over.

  ‘What is it?’ she asked. ‘I really don’t have time for this. I don’t understand —’

  ‘Come on,’ he urged her again. ‘It won’t take long.’

  She did as he said and slowly walked toward him. She could hear her heart pounding, her hands starting to tingle.

  ‘What are you doing?’ Harald said.

  She stopped. ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Why are you snapping your fingers?’

  Ellen stopped it.

  She thought about when Harald had been standing at the press conference, making a plea for help from the general public. She thought about when he had asked her for help with the reward, about the lack of pictures of Lycke in their home. And now here she was, standing poised to look at something in a freezer.

  Harald raised the lid and leaned over. The frost made a crunching sound as he searched around for something.

  ‘But what the hell,’ he murmured. ‘Hasn’t he quartered it yet?’

  He slammed the lid.

  ‘Wait, it must be in here. Come on,’ he said again, heading for the door at the end of the garage.

  ‘No, you really have to tell me what’s going on,’ she said, her voice sounding much tougher than she felt.

  Harald ignored her and opened the door.

  Ellen stayed where she was. A rancid odour struck her.

  ‘It shouldn’t smell like this. It’s gone bad.’

  ‘Sorry?’ Ellen said. ‘What are you talking about?’

  ‘The deer. It’s been hanging in this warm room too long.�
�

  ‘What? What the hell are you talking about?’

  Harald emerged from the room and leaned against the doorframe.

  ‘My buddy Adam hit a deer with his car last Friday. He called me and asked me to come out and kill it, so we could butcher it for eating. I know,’ he said, holding up both hands in defence. ‘I know it’s illegal, but what’s done is done, and I didn’t want to tell the police.’ He ran his hand along his new beard. ‘That’s the explanation. Do you understand now why I had to show you? You never would have believed me otherwise.’

  Before Ellen could respond, he continued.

  ‘On the way here, I was caught by the speed camera. No one has contacted me so I didn’t think it was activated. You know, I’ve heard that some of them just blink without actually taking the photo. And so I didn’t think I would need to mention this. As soon as Helena called and said that Lycke was missing, I drove home to change my clothes because they were completely saturated in blood from the deer, and then I went to the tennis hall. And, well, you know the rest.’ His voice was shaky, and his eyes were suddenly blurred by tears. ‘I was here. Do you understand? I was here when Lycke was murdered. Only a few hundred metres away from my daughter. How the hell can I live with that? All for a friend who needed my help, and to get a little good meat.’

  Ellen took a few steps forward and looked into the room.

  There, from the ceiling, hung a dead deer.

  Before she could think of anything to say, her phone beeped.

  Important extra meeting in Cold Facts room in 10 mins. Everyone must attend. Jimmy

  ELLEN

  10.15 A.M.

  When Ellen came into the ‘Cold Facts’ conference room, all the chairs were taken except one. The whole news team was assembled.

  Everyone stared silently at her as she sat down on the empty chair. The mood in the room was rather subdued.

  ‘What’s happened?’ she said.

  ‘Where have you been?’ Leif asked, sounding accusatory.

  ‘I’ve been checking on a lead regarding Lycke’s father. It turned out that he was caught by a speed camera and —’

  ‘That’s enough. If you’d been doing your job properly, we wouldn’t have been last in line,’ Leif continued.