The Ice Child. Camilla Lackberg

stop. ‘We’ll take questions in a moment, but first I want to turn over the floor to Patrik Hedström, who will give you a brief report on what has happened.’

      Patrik gave his boss a surprised look. Maybe Mellberg realized after all that he didn’t have a grasp of the big picture, which was what this crowd of reporters needed to hear.

      ‘Thank you. All right then,’ Patrik replied. He cleared his throat and came over to stand next to Mellberg. He paused to gather his thoughts, trying to work out what he should tell them and what he should withhold. An unguarded word to the media could destroy so much, and yet the journalists were their link to one of the greatest assets any investigation could have: the public. He needed to give the press enough information to trigger a ripple effect that would start tips coming in from ordinary people. There was always someone who had seen or heard something that might turn out to be relevant even though that person might not think so. But handing out the wrong information, or revealing too many details, could give the perpetrator an advantage. If he or she knew what sort of leads the police were following, it would be easier to hide their tracks or simply refrain from making the same mistake next time. And that was everyone’s greatest fear right now, that this horrific crime would be repeated. A serial criminal rarely stopped of his own accord. Most likely not in this instance, at any rate. Patrik had a bad feeling about this one.

      ‘Yesterday Victoria Hallberg was found near a wooded area east of Fjällbacka. She was then struck by a car, and we are convinced it was an accident. She was taken to Uddevalla hospital, where all possible efforts were made to save her life. Unfortunately, her injuries were too severe and at 11.14 she was pronounced dead.’ He paused and reached for a glass of water that Annika had placed on the table. ‘We have searched the area where she was found, and I’d like to thank all the volunteers from Fjällbacka who turned up to help. There is little more I can tell you. We are continuing to cooperate with other police districts investigating similar cases. We need to find the girls who have gone missing, and we need to catch the person who kidnapped them.’ Patrik took a sip of water. ‘Any questions?’

      Everyone instantly stuck their hand in the air, and several reporters began speaking at once. The photographers in the front of the room had started snapping pictures as Patrik spoke, and he had to restrain an urge to smooth down his hair. It was always a strange feeling to see big pictures of his own face printed in the evening papers.

      ‘Kjell?’ He pointed to Kjell Ringholm from Bohusläningen, which was the local paper with the most subscribers. Kjell had offered the police valuable assistance on previous cases, so Patrik tended to give him preferential treatment.

      ‘You mentioned that Victoria had suffered severe injuries. What type of injuries? Were they the result of being struck by the car, or was she injured prior to the accident?’

      ‘I can’t comment on that,’ replied Patrik. ‘I can only say that she was struck by a car and she died from her injuries.’

      ‘We have information that she had been subjected to some sort of torture,’ Kjell went on.

      Patrik swallowed hard, picturing in his mind Victoria’s empty eye sockets and her mouth, with a stump where her tongue had been. But those were details they didn’t want to release. He cursed whoever hadn’t been able to resist talking to the press. Was it really necessary to divulge such information?

      ‘Given the ongoing police investigation, we can’t comment on any details or the extent of Victoria’s injuries.’

      Kjell was about to say something else, but Patrik held up his hand to stop him, and then called on Sven Niklasson, a reporter for Expressen. He had also dealt with this journalist before, and he knew that Niklasson was always sharp. He did his homework and never wrote anything that might damage an investigation.

      ‘Was there any indication that she had been sexually abused? And have you found any link to the disappearance of the other girls?’

      ‘We don’t know yet. The autopsy is scheduled for tomorrow. As far as the other missing girls are concerned, at this time I can’t divulge what we know about any possible links. As I said, we are continuing to work with the other police districts, and I’m convinced that this cooperative effort will lead to the arrest of the perpetrator.’

      ‘Are you sure that we’re talking about only one perpetrator?’ The reporter from Aftonbladet took the floor without being called on. ‘Couldn’t it be several individuals, or even a gang? Have you looked into possible connections with trafficking?’

      ‘At the present time we are not ruling out anything, and that also applies to the number of perpetrators involved. Of course we’ve discussed the possibility of a link to human trafficking, but Victoria’s case does not seem consistent with that theory.’

      ‘Why’s that?’ persisted the reporter from Aftonbladet.

      ‘Due to the nature of her injuries, it seems unlikely that she was going to be sold,’ Kjell interjected, as he scrutinized Patrik’s expression.

      Patrik didn’t comment. Kjell’s conclusion was correct and revealed more than the police wanted to say, but as long as he refused to confirm anything, the newspapers could only print speculations.

      ‘As I said, we are investigating all possible leads. We are not ruling out anything.’

      He allowed the reporters to ask questions for another fifteen minutes, but he was unable to answer most of them, either because he didn’t know the answer or because he didn’t want to release more details. Unfortunately, the more questions thrown at him, the clearer it became just how little the police actually knew. It had been four months since Victoria disappeared, and even longer since the girls in the other districts had gone missing. Yet there was so little to go on. Frustrated, Patrik decided the time had come to stop taking questions.

      ‘Bertil, is there anything you’d like to say in conclusion?’ Patrik adroitly moved aside to make Mellberg feel that he was the one who had been conducting the press conference.

      ‘Yes, I’d like to take this opportunity to say it was a blessing in disguise that it was in our district that the first of the missing girls was found, given the unique expertise available at our station. Under my leadership, we have solved a number of high-profile murder cases, and my list of previous successes shows that …’

      Patrik interrupted him by placing a hand on his shoulder.

      ‘I wholeheartedly agree. We’d like to thank all of you for your questions, and we’ll stay in touch.’

      Mellberg glared at him, angry at missing an opportunity for a little self-promotion, but Patrik steered him out of the room while the journalists and photographers gathered up their things. ‘Sorry about cutting in like that, but I was afraid they would miss their deadline if we kept them here any longer. After that great presentation you gave, we want to be certain they’ll file their reports in time for the morning editions.’

      Patrik was ashamed of the drivel he was spouting, but it seemed to work because Mellberg’s face lit up.

      ‘Of course. Good thinking, Hedström. You do have your useful moments.’

      ‘Thanks,’ said Patrik wearily. Handling Mellberg took as much effort as running the investigation. If not more.

      ‘Why are you still unwilling to talk about what happened? It was so many years ago.’ Ulla, the prison therapist, peered at Laila over the rims of her red-framed glasses.

      ‘Why do you keep asking me about it? After so many years?’ replied Laila.

      Back when she started serving her sentence she’d felt pressured by all the demands to describe everything, to open her soul and reveal the details from that day as well as the preceding period. Now it no longer bothered her. No one expected her to answer those questions; they were both just going through the motions. Laila knew that Ulla had to continue to ask about that time, and Ulla knew that Laila would continue to refuse to answer. For ten years Ulla had been the prison therapist. Her predecessors had stayed for varying lengths of time, depending on their