The Ice Child. Camilla Lackberg

Lord, what a noise you two are making!’ shouted Rita from the kitchen. That was also part of the routine, but he knew that she loved to hear their rowdy playtime in the morning.

      ‘Hush,’ said Mellberg, holding his finger to his lips and opening his eyes wide. Leo did the same. ‘There’s a wicked witch out in the kitchen. She eats little children, and she has probably already eaten both of your mothers. But there’s one way we can defeat her. Do you know what it is?’

      Even though Leo knew full well what Mellberg was going to say, he shook his head.

      ‘We have to sneak in there and tickle her to death! But witches have extra sharp ears, which means we have to do our best to move quietly so she won’t hear us, or else … or else we’re done for!’ And Mellberg made a motion as if slashing his throat. Again Leo copied him. Then they tiptoed out of the bedroom and into the kitchen, where Rita was waiting for them.

      ‘ATTACK!’ yelled Mellberg, and he and Leo ran over to Rita to tickle her.

      ‘EEEK!’ cried Rita, laughing. ‘This is what I get for my sins!’ The two dogs, Ernst and Señorita, rushed out from under the table and began dashing back and forth, barking happily.

      ‘Wow, what a ruckus,’ said Paula. ‘It’s a miracle you haven’t been evicted long ago.’

      Everyone fell silent. They hadn’t heard the front door of the flat open.

      ‘Hi, Leo. Did you sleep well?’ said Paula. ‘I was thinking of coming up here to have breakfast with all of you before going to the day-care centre.’

      ‘Is Johanna coming too?’ asked Rita.

      ‘No, she already left for work.’

      Slowly Paula went over to the kitchen table and sat down. In her arms she held Lisa, who for once was sound asleep. Leo ran over to give her a hug, studying his little sister a bit anxiously. Ever since Lisa’s birth, Leo had been sleeping at ‘Granny and Grandpa Bertil’s place’. Partly to escape the baby’s colicky crying, but also because he slept so well curled up in Mellberg’s arms. The two of them had been inseparable from the beginning, since Mellberg had been present at Leo’s birth. Now that the boy had a sister and his mothers were so busy with her, he often sought out his grandfather, who conveniently lived in the flat upstairs.

      ‘Is there any coffee?’ asked Paula. Rita filled a big cup, added a dash of milk, and set the coffee on the table in front of her. Then she kissed both Paula and Lisa on the top of the head.

      ‘You look upset, love. This must be so hard for you. Why doesn’t the doctor do something?’

      ‘There’s not much he can do. It will pass in time. Or so he hopes.’ Paula took a big gulp of coffee.

      ‘But have you been getting any sleep at all?’

      ‘Not much. But I suppose it’s my turn now. Johanna can’t exactly show up for work after going night after night without any sleep,’ she said, sighing heavily. Then she turned to Mellberg. ‘So, how did it go yesterday?’

      Mellberg was holding Leo on his lap and was totally focused on spreading jam on slices of Skogaholm rye bread. When Paula saw what her son was about to have for breakfast, she opened her mouth to say something, but then refrained.

      ‘That might not be the best for him,’ said Rita when she saw that Paula didn’t have the energy to protest.

      ‘There’s nothing wrong with Skogaholm rye bread,’ said Mellberg, defiantly taking a big bite. ‘I grew up eating this bread. And jam? It’s just berries. And berries have vitamins. Vitamins and oxidants. All good things for a growing boy.’

      ‘Anti-oxidants,’ Paula corrected him.

      But Mellberg wasn’t listening. What nonsense. Nobody needed to tell him anything about nutrition.

      ‘Okay, but how did it go yesterday?’ she repeated her question, realizing it was a losing battle to argue about breakfast food.

      ‘Excellent. I ran the press conference in my usual authoritative and intelligent manner. We need to buy copies of the newspapers today.’ He reached for yet another piece of bread. The first three were just for starters.

      ‘I’m sure you were amazing. I wouldn’t expect anything less.’

      Mellberg cast a suspicious glance at Paula to see if there was any hint of sarcasm, but her face remained impassive.

      ‘Aside from that, have you made any progress on the case? Are there any leads? Do you know where she came from? Where she was being held captive?’

      ‘No, nothing yet.’

      Lisa started squirming, and Paula’s expression showed how exhausted and frustrated she felt. Mellberg knew she hated to be left out of an investigation. It didn’t come easy to her, being away from work on maternity leave, and this initial period hadn’t exactly been tinged with maternal joy. He placed his hand on her knee and noticed through her pyjamas how thin she’d grown. She’d been practically living in pyjamas for weeks now.

      ‘I promise to keep you updated. But at the moment we don’t know much, and—’ He was interrupted by a shrill shriek from Lisa. It was astounding that a tiny body could produce such a piercing scream.

      ‘Okay, thanks,’ said Paula, getting up. Moving like a sleepwalker, she began pacing the kitchen as she hummed softly to Lisa.

      ‘Poor little thing,’ said Mellberg, taking another slice of bread. ‘It must be awful to have a tummy ache all the time. I’m lucky I was born with an iron stomach.’

      Patrik was standing in front of the whiteboard in the station’s kitchen. Next to it on the wall he’d tacked up a map of Sweden, and he had inserted pins to mark the places where the girls had disappeared. He suddenly had a flashback to a case from several years earlier, when they’d also stuck pins in a map of Sweden. Back then they’d successfully solved the case. He hoped they’d be able to do the same this time.

      The investigative materials that Annika had collected from the other districts were now sorted into four piles on the table, one for each missing girl.

      ‘It’s impossible for us to proceed as if Victoria’s death is an isolated case. We need to make sure we stay updated regarding the other disappearances.’

      Martin and Gösta nodded. Mellberg had arrived at the station but had almost immediately gone back out to take Ernst for a walk, which usually meant that he would be stopping at the local bakery. He’d most likely be gone for at least an hour. It was no coincidence that Patrik had chosen this particular moment to review the case with his other colleagues.

      ‘Have you heard anything from Pedersen?’ asked Gösta.

      ‘No, but he said he’d phone as soon as he finished the autopsy,’ replied Patrik. He picked up the first stack of documents. ‘I know we’ve gone through everything before, but I want to go over the information about the other girls again, in chronological order. Maybe some new idea will turn up.’

      He leafed through the papers and then turned to write the key points on the whiteboard.

      ‘Sandra Andersson. Fourteen years old, about to turn fifteen when she disappeared two years ago. Lived in Strömsholm with her mother, father, and younger sister. The parents own a clothing shop. No sign of any family problems. According to everyone interviewed, Sandra was a conscientious teenager who received excellent marks in school. She was planning to become a doctor.’

      Patrik held up the first photograph. Sandra was a brunette. Pretty in a quiet sort of way, with intelligent eyes and a serious expression.

      ‘What were her other interests?’ asked Martin. He took a sip of his coffee but grimaced at the taste and set the cup back on the table.

      ‘Nothing special. She seemed to be totally focused on her studies.’

      ‘And nothing suspicious that occurred before she disappeared?’ asked Gösta.