Camilla Lackberg Crime Thrillers 4-6: The Stranger, The Hidden Child, The Drowning. Camilla Lackberg

always only a phone call away. But at the same time the work gave him so much. Not least the satisfaction of feeling that he was really making a difference, at least occasionally. He never could have stood a profession in which he was forced to shuffle papers and tally up numbers all day long. The police force gave him a feeling of purpose, of being needed. The problem, or rather the challenge, was that he was needed at home as well.

      Damn, why does it have to be so hard to make things work? Patrik thought as he pulled over and parked a short distance from the green rubbish truck. There was a crowd gathered round, but the techs had put up crime scene tape around a large area at the rear of the truck, to ensure that nobody tramped in and destroyed any tracks that might be there. The head of the team of techs, Torbjörn Ruud, came up to Patrik, holding out his hand.

      ‘Hi, Hedström. Well, this doesn’t look like much fun.’

      ‘No, I heard that Leif got a bit more in his load than he’d bargained for.’ Patrik nodded in the direction of the refuse collector, who looked distressed as he stood a short distance away.

      ‘Yeah, he got a real shock. It’s not a pretty sight. She’s still lying there; we didn’t want to move her yet. Follow me and take a look, but watch out where you step. Here, take these.’ Torbjörn handed two elastic bands to Patrik, who bent down and fastened them round his shoes. That way his footprints could be easily distinguished from any left by the perp or perps. Together they stepped carefully over the blue-and-white police tape. Patrik felt a slight uneasiness in his stomach as they approached the site, and he had to restrain an impulse to turn on his heel and flee. He hated this part of the job. As usual he had to steel himself before he stood on tiptoe and looked down into the rear compartment of the truck. There, in the midst of a disgusting, stinking mess of old food scraps and other debris, lay a naked girl. Bent double, with her feet around her head, as if she were performing some advanced type of acrobatics. Patrik gave Torbjörn Ruud a puzzled look.

      ‘Rigor mortis,’ he explained dryly. ‘The limbs stiffened in that position after she was bent in two so she would fit in the bin.’

      Patrik grimaced. It indicated such an incredible cold-heartedness and contempt for humanity not merely to kill this girl, but to dispose of her as if she were household waste. Stuffed into a rubbish bin. He turned away.

      ‘How long will the crime scene investigation take?’

      ‘A couple of hours,’ said Torbjörn. ‘I assume you’ll be canvassing for witnesses in the meantime. Unfortunately there aren’t many out here.’ He nodded toward the houses that stood empty and deserted, waiting for their summer guests. But a few of them were year-round residences, so they could hope for some luck.

      ‘What happened here?’ Mellberg’s voice sounded as peevish as usual. Patrik and Torbjörn turned to see him come steaming in their direction.

      ‘A woman was stuffed into this bin,’ replied Patrik, pointing to the bin standing by the side of the road. Two techs pulled on gloves in preparation to do their work. ‘She was discovered when Leif here emptied it.’ He pointed to Leif. ‘That’s why she’s in the rubbish truck.’

      Mellberg took that as an invitation to climb over the tape to look in the truck. Torbjörn didn’t even try to get him to put elastics on his shoes. It didn’t matter anyway. They’d had to eliminate Mellberg’s traces from crime scene investigations before, so they already had his shoe prints in their files.

      ‘Holy shit,’ said Mellberg, holding his nose. ‘It stinks.’ He walked off, apparently more concerned about the smell of rubbish than the sight of the girl’s body. Patrik sighed to himself. He could always count on Mellberg to behave inappropriately and with no sensitivity.

      ‘Anyone know who she is?’ Mellberg asked.

      Patrik shook his head. ‘No, so far we don’t know anything. I thought I’d ring Hanna and ask her to check whether any reports came in yesterday about a girl who hadn’t come home. And Martin is on his way, so I thought he and I could start knocking on the doors of the few houses here that are occupied.’

      Mellberg nodded sullenly. ‘Good thinking. That was precisely what I was about to suggest.’

      Patrik and Torbjörn exchanged a look. Mellberg invariably appropriated everyone else’s ideas, seldom having any of his own.

      ‘So, where’s Molin then?’ Mellberg said, looking round grumpily.

      ‘He should be here any minute,’ said Patrik.

      As if on cue, Martin’s car appeared. It was beginning to be hard to find a parking place along the narrow gravel road, so he had to back up a bit before he found a spot. His red hair stood on end as he walked towards them, and he looked tired. His face was creased, as if he’d just got out of bed.

      ‘A girl was dead in that bin, now she’s in the rubbish truck,’ said Patrik to sum up.

      Martin merely nodded. He made no move to walk over and have a look. His stomach had a tendency to turn inside out at the sight of dead bodies.

      ‘Weren’t you and Hanna working last night?’ Patrik asked.

      Martin nodded. ‘Yes, we were keeping an eye on the party at the community centre. And a good thing we did. All hell broke loose, and I didn’t get home until four.’

      ‘What happened?’ said Patrik with a frown.

      ‘Mostly just the usual. A couple of guys got pissed out of their minds, a squabble with a jealous boyfriend, two kids fighting drunk. But that was nothing compared to the melee that erupted among the cast. Hanna and I had to break it up a couple of times.’

      ‘I see,’ said Patrik, pricking up his ears. ‘Why? What was it about?’

      ‘Apparently they were all mad at one of the girls in the group. The one with the big silicone breasts. She got a couple of real wallops before we managed to put a stop to it.’ Martin rubbed his eyes wearily.

      A thought occurred to Patrik. ‘Martin, could you please go take a look at the girl in the truck?’

      Martin grimaced. ‘Is that necessary? You know how I –’ He broke off and nodded, resigned. ‘Of course I will, but why?’

      ‘Just do it,’ said Patrik, who didn’t want to let on what he was thinking. ‘I’ll explain afterwards.’

      ‘Okay,’ said Martin with a hangdog expression. He took the slip-on covers Patrik handed him and fastened them around his shoes. He stepped over the tape, his shoulders drooping, and took a couple of hesitant steps towards the rear of the truck. After one last deep breath, he looked down and then turned quickly to Patrik with an astonished look. ‘But that’s …’

      Patrik nodded. ‘The girl from Sodding Tanum. Yes, I realized it the minute you started talking about her. And it looks like she took quite a beating.’

      Martin backed cautiously away from the rubbish truck. His face was chalk-white and Patrik saw that he was fighting to keep his breakfast down. After a few moments he had to admit defeat and ran for a nearby bush.

      Patrik went over to Mellberg, who was talking animatedly with Torbjörn Ruud and waving his arms about. Patrik interrupted them. ‘We have an ID of the victim. It’s one of the girls from that reality show. They had a dance last night at the community centre, and according to Martin there was a fracas involving the girl here.’

      ‘A fracas?’ said Mellberg with a frown. ‘Are you saying she was beaten to death?’

      ‘I don’t know,’ said Patrik with a hint of annoyance in his voice. Sometimes he just couldn’t stand Mellberg’s stupid questions. ‘Only the ME can make a pronouncement on the cause of death after performing an autopsy.’ Which I shouldn’t have to explain to you, Patrik thought. ‘But let’s have a chat with the rest of the cast. And see about getting access to all the videotapes from last night. For once we may have a reliable witness.’

      ‘Yes, I was just going to say that it’s possible the cameras may