Vanished?

by Christer Tholin

  “Yes?”

  “Martin, I’m sure you have a lot to do. But would it be possible … could you come here?”

  He would make it possible. Only how would he be able to help? He didn’t know much about kidnappings.

  “Martin, please! I need you.”

  “Of course, I’ll come. But I hope you realize that I can’t solve this for you. We’ll be needing professional help.”

  “I know. Thank you for coming. I need you here to talk to—and for support.”

  “All right, Liv. I’ll try to make it there today.”

  “Oh, thank you so much! That’s great. But please don’t tell anyone about this.”

  They said goodbye and hung up. Martin was horrified. He felt genuinely sorry for Liv. First, there was her own abduction, then her husband’s death, and now her daughter’s kidnapping. That was a lot all at once. He could hardly believe it.

  He immediately got on the Internet and booked his flight. He had no problem getting a ticket—Monday evenings were not that popular a time. He sent Liv a text with his arrival time and flight number. The flight was through Norwegian and would depart at 9:30 p.m., which left him plenty of time to go home and pack. But first, he would have to talk to Jürgen. He hoped he would be all right with covering for him again.

  Tuesday, November 17

  37

  Liv had called ahead for a taxi for Martin, and the driver, who was holding a sign with Martin’s name, was waiting outside Terminal 5. They drove through the dark night, taking the freeway toward Stockholm and veering off to Danderyd about ten kilometers before. Twenty minutes later, at a quarter to one in the morning, they turned into the driveway to Liv’s house.

  Liv was already standing at the front door. On seeing her, Martin leapt out of the car, bag in hand, and ran up the steps. Liv smiled and pulled him into the house.

  “Come in—it’s way too cold outside. I’m so happy you’re here, Martin.”

  She threw her arms around him and gave him a big hug. Martin dropped his bag and responded in kind. As Liv leaned against him, he could hear her starting to sob: “My poor little Saga. I’m so afraid.”

  Martin stroked her back. Liv was sniffling, so she let go for a moment to wipe her nose with a tissue.

  “I’m so sorry. I always seem to be crying when we’re together.”

  “That has a lot to do with the circumstances. I would have happily come to see you for other reasons,” Martin replied. “Has anything new come up?”

  Liv looked at him with tears in her eyes. “No, nothing.”

  She pointed to the wardrobe. “You can hang your jacket in there, and then I’ll show you to your room. Do you want something to eat?”

  “Yes, that would be nice. I only had a sandwich earlier.”

  “We have some leftover lasagna. I can heat it up.”

  “That would be great, thanks.”

  Liv set the plate of lasagna in the microwave. “Would you like a glass of wine with it?”

  “Will you have one with me?”

  “Yes, I could do that. It would probably do me good.”

  The two of them sat down at the kitchen table. Liv fetched a bottle of wine and poured them each a glass.

  “How was your flight?” she asked.

  “Oh, it was fine except that just before landing, the plane ran into some turbulence.”

  The microwave made a dinging sound, and soon Martin’s meal was sitting before him.

  “Liv, while I eat, could you tell me one more time exactly what happened today—or rather, yesterday?”

  “Yes, of course.” Liv took a sip of wine. “It started off like any normal day. I took the children to school and then drove to work. Mai-Li was supposed to pick them up. Saga had school until two and Hampus until noon. Then just before noon, the teacher called me and asked if I knew where Saga was. She hadn’t signed herself out or shown up to her math class, and the math class had started shortly before eleven. I said I would check on the situation, so I called Saga’s cell phone—she’s had one for a year now—but it was turned off. I left her a voicemail and also texted her. After that, I immediately called Mai-Li, who had already arrived at the school to pick up Hampus. She had no idea where Saga might be. I asked her to keep an eye out for her on her way home and to also look around the house to see if she was there. She was supposed to call me right back. At the time, I thought Saga might have been feeling ill and had simply walked home. It takes fifteen minutes to walk to our house, and there are two or three different ways to get there. Then at half past twelve, Mai-Li called to tell me that she couldn’t find Saga anywhere. That was when I started to get worried, since nothing like this has ever happened to us before. I immediately drove home and searched up and down the route to the school. Saga’s cell phone still wasn’t answering. Then I searched the house again myself. I was about to call the school when I received a text—from Saga’s phone.”

  “And what did it say exactly?”

  “It was just one short sentence: ‘Check your email!’ I found that strange. It wasn’t like Saga at all. Of course, I immediately checked my email, and I noticed one that had a picture of Saga.”

  “Do you mind if I take a look?”

  Liv fetched her iPad and showed Martin the email. It had a photo of Saga asleep, probably in the back seat of a car. Below that, in Swedish, was the body of the text. Martin studied the sender’s address: rskvotne222@bip.net. Not much help.

  “Could you translate the text for me?” he asked.

  “Yes, of course: ‘We have Saga. Nothing will happen to her as long as you carefully follow our instructions. No police. We are watching you. We will contact you tomorrow. Don’t slip up!’ That’s it.”

  Martin had finished his lasagna, and his hunger was satisfied. He drank some of his wine and set his glass back down.

  “So what did you do then?”

  “I was utterly spent. At first, I just sat there, paralyzed. A while later, I called the office and had them cancel all my appointments. Then I contacted the school to tell them that Saga was sick. I had talked to Mai-Li and asked her to speak to no one about it. And we told Hampus that his sister was spending the night at a friend’s. After that, I milled about here all afternoon in an effort to distract myself. After all, there was nothing I could do. Finally, I decided to ask you here, so thank you for coming, Martin.”

  “Liv, there’s something I need to tell you. In my opinion, we need help, which is why I called Lars before my flight took off from Berlin.”

  Liv stared at him, dumbfounded. “The private detective? But I asked you to speak to no one.”

  “Yes, I know. And I didn’t say a word about the kidnapping. But I trust Lars. He won’t do anything we don’t want. And he used to work for the police, which means that he knows more about kidnappings than we do, including what you can and cannot do.”

  “So what did you tell him?”

  “I only hinted that I might have an assignment for him. He said he could meet us at nine in the morning.”

  Liv thought it over. “But if I am in fact being watched, then it’s not a good idea. Even if he’s not with the police.”

  “Yes, that’s true. That’s why I thought we could meet at your company. That way we could disguise our discussions as a business meeting, and you could explain things to him in detail. What do you think?”

  “All right. I like that better. But let’s not decide until after the meeting whether and how we plan on using his services.”

  “Right, of course. And ultimately, it’s your decision. I can only make suggestions.”

  Liv seemed content. They finished their wine, and then Liv showed Martin to his room.

  38

  Lars took another piece of toast and was spreading marmalade on it. Lisa was busy dressing the children. The youngest was off to kindergarten and the older one to school.

  “Please keep still, Olivia!”

  Lisa was struggling with the zipper on her daughter’s anorak. She f
inally managed to close it. Then she turned around and went back to the kitchen nook. Other than a small half-bath and the entryway, the ground floor of their townhouse had only a single large room with the kitchen in the front, the living room in the back, and the dining table in between. The kitchenette was located around the corner, and in the middle of it was a small island with four stools. That was where Lars was sitting right then.

  “When are you heading out?” Lisa asked him.

  “I have to leave right away. I’m meeting Martin, the German guy, at nine. He’s back in Stockholm.”

  Lisa stiffened and slowly turned around. “Are you referring to that incident with the explosion?”

  “Yeah, but it has nothing to do with that. He wanted to talk to me about some new thing.”

  “Lars, you’re not going to get involved in anything that dangerous again! You promised me.”

  Lisa had been rather shaken on hearing about the explosion. And yes, it was true: had Lars stayed in the cabin just a few more minutes, he would not be sitting there now. He had been extremely lucky. Lisa had been so happy back when he quit the police force. The risk had always seemed too great to her. This incident had made her aware of the same potential for danger in his job as a private detective, and she didn’t like it one bit.

  “No, don’t worry. First, I just want to hear what he wants.”

  Lisa walked over to Lars’s stool and put her arms around him.

  “Lars, please. I’ve had enough of these surprise phone calls informing me that you’re in the hospital. I really don’t need it.”

  Lars kissed her. “Yeah, I know. I’m careful.”

  “All right. Well, we need to get going.”

  Lisa hugged him once more, walked to the front door, and pulled on her boots. A cold gust of wind blew into the house as she opened the door. Outside, it was just a few degrees above freezing and also raining.

  “Out you go, you two.” She urged her children out the door. “Out into this lousy weather!”

  And the three of them took off, closing the door behind them. Lars was now alone.

  Lars was well aware of Lisa’s opinion of dangerous assignments. And he understood. But this last case with Martin had been fun. There was some real action going on there, and Lars had had a chance to get physically involved. It was exciting, and he had succeeded in freeing Martin and Liv—and that made him proud. He was curious to see what Martin wanted today, although he figured it had to involve Liv again, since Martin had texted him that they would be meeting with her at her company. The company was in Vallentuna, north of Stockholm. That was good, because it would let him avoid the bulk of the rush-hour traffic. His townhouse was in Hässelby, northwest of Stockholm, but he would still need three quarters of an hour for the drive.

  Lars placed the plates and coffee mugs in the dishwasher, put away the food, and brushed his teeth. Then he grabbed his keys and wallet and put on his jacket. It finally no longer hurt him to do it. He had dispensed with the clavicle strap two weeks before, and his collarbone had mended well. But for almost ten days after that, he was still having a hard time with a lot of movements. It was only in the last few days that the problems had fully resolved. His doctor had also told him he could gradually start exercising again next week. Lars liked to practice weight training on a regular basis, and he missed that. Six weeks of nothing but sitting around was not his style. He felt incredibly flabby.

  Lars went out of the house and locked the door. His Volvo was standing outside the garage since there wasn’t enough room inside for a car. Somehow, they had managed to accumulate so much stuff that they had to store it in there. Bikes, sleds, remodeling materials, gardening tools, moving boxes ... for some reason, they never got around to cleaning it all up. Supposedly, it was better for the car to be parked outside. Lars hoped that that wasn’t just some rumor propagated by other people with garages full of stuff.

  It wasn’t raining especially hard, but there was still a hefty stream of water pouring down from the roof of the garage. That’s right—he needed to repair the gutter. Lisa had been nagging him about that for a while, but as long as he couldn’t move too well, there was no point in thinking about it. That would be his project for this weekend.

  The drive to Liv’s company was no problem. There was a bit of traffic at the two lights in Hässelby, but once Lars was on the freeway, things went smoothly. It was a typical November day: gray, windy, and rainy. It would probably never get fully light today. Lars was hoping it would snow soon, because that would instantly brighten things up. But it was still too early in the season for that. In the past few years, they were happy to just have snow by Christmas. Somehow, the season wasn’t the same as what he remembered from childhood.

  Liv’s company was located in the industrial part, and finding it was easy. There was a row of visitor parking spaces in front of the building, and virtually all of them were vacant. Lars parked his car and hurried through the rain to the entrance. He pushed open the glass door and walked into the reception area. Sitting behind the reception desk was a young woman who was on the phone at that moment. She was wearing a headset and jotting something down on a notepad. Lars stood in front of her and waited until she hung up.

  “Hej! How can I help you?” she asked.

  “I’m here for a meeting with Liv Ulldahl. My name is Lars Olsson.”

  “Yes, I’ll let her know.” She pressed a button on her phone. “Lars Olsson is here,” she said and paused. “All right.” Turning to Lars, she told him, “Liv is on her way.” And with that, she went back to her computer.

  Lars looked about. It was a typical office building on the outskirts of the city: square, utilitarian, with lots of glass. One corner of the reception area had a comfortable sitting space with leather furnishings, and the walls were decorated with tasteful prints.

  Martin appeared from around the corner. “Hey, Lars. So glad to see you.”

  “Glad to be here, Martin.” They shook hands.

  “Please come with me. Would you like some coffee?”

  “Yes, please. I only had one cup at breakfast, and that was an hour ago.”

  Martin took Lars into a small kitchen, complete with a sink, dishwasher, and high-end, single-serve coffee maker. He showed Lars how to use it.

  “You really know your way around here. Are you working here now?” Lars asked.

  “No, today is my first day here,” replied Martin. “Liv just showed me how the coffee maker works. We’ll be meeting in her office. This way, please.”

  Lars followed Martin, coffee mug in hand. They stepped into a large office with a desk and conference table. Liv was sitting at the table. She looked a lot better than the last time Lars had seen her, although she did not seem happy.

  They greeted each other.

  “Thanks so much for coming,” Liv said to Lars as she shook his hand. “How are you doing? Are you fully recovered?”

  “Yes, thanks,” he replied. “I’ve been back at work for two weeks now.”

  The three of them sat down, and Martin cleared his throat.

  “Lars,” he began, “we need your advice. Liv has a problem, but it needs to be handled with the utmost discretion. What she’s about to tell you must remain between us.”

  “Not a problem. I’m sure you know that in our business, ‘confidentiality’ is spelled with capital letters.”

  “Yes, but we need to be sure that you’ll speak to absolutely no one about this, not even the people at your agency.”

  “OK, I can guarantee that as long as you just want my advice.” Lars studied their faces. They looked extremely serious. What was going on here?

  Martin glanced at Liv, who nodded back.

  “All right. Liv will now tell you everything. She’ll be doing it in Swedish to make things easier. Afterwards, we can go back to German.”

  Liv then launched into a report on all that had happened. Lars was astonished. He hadn’t expected anything like this. He also had Liv show him the text and the
email.

  When she had finished her report, Liv said in German: “And now I’m waiting to hear back from them. I have no idea why it’s taking so long.”

  Martin agreed. “Yes, I also find it strange. It has to be in their own interest to pull this off as quickly as possible.”

  Lars was pondering their statements. “There could be a number of reasons for that,” he said after a few moments. “It could be to get Liv upset so that they can manipulate her more easily. Or they may need some time to prepare. They probably also want to wait a bit to make sure you haven’t brought the police into it.” He looked at Liv. “We still don’t know if it’s about ransom, do we?”

  “No, but what else would it be?” she asked.

  Lars leaned back. “I’d like to first go through some other possibilities—at least, from a theoretical standpoint. The majority of child kidnappings are carried out by a parent, like when the two parents can’t agree on the custody terms. And then, of course, there’s the child sex trade, or trafficking, as they call it. Can we definitely eliminate those two options in this case?”

  Martin pushed his coffee mug to the side. “But they wouldn’t send a message in that case, would they?”

  “It could be a ploy to gain time—to transfer the child out of country, for instance. I don’t want to cause you any added anxiety, but can we completely rule it out? Liv, could anyone in your husband’s family have an interest in your daughter? Because if that’s the case, we should immediately report the kidnapping to the police. There are also a number of non-profit and professional organizations that can help in such cases. Liv, how are your relations with your husband’s family?”

  Liv knit her brow. “We had very little contact with them. My husband didn’t get along that well with his parents. The ones we still visited the most were his sister and her family. Of course, we all saw each other at the funeral, but we hardly spoke. I think they were all ashamed for my husband or for what he did. His father was terribly shaken, and he was the only one who came up and formally apologized to me for what Thomas had done. On the other hand, Thomas’s brother Erik was very unfriendly. I think he blamed me for his brother’s death. But I can’t imagine that anyone from that family would kidnap Saga. My husband’s sister has her own children, his brother is single, and their parents are already over 70. None of them has a special relationship with Saga—they’ve hardly ever seen each other.”