The Girl in the Woods. Camilla Lackberg
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‘You mean he thought they were innocent?’
This was news to Erica. Her pulse quickened. After living with a police officer for many years, she knew that gut instincts often turned out to be right. If Leif had doubted the girls’ guilt, he must have had good reason.
‘Did he say why he was having doubts?’
Viola held her coffee mug in both hands, caressing the grooves on the sides with her thumbs.
‘No,’ she said, frowning. ‘He never mentioned anything specific. But I suppose it didn’t help that both girls retracted their confessions and continued to proclaim their innocence all these years.’
‘But no one believed them,’ said Erica, recalling the many articles she’d read about the case, and the response from local residents whenever the case happened to come up in conversation.
Everybody seemed to be in agreement: the girls had killed Stella.
‘Right before he died, he started talking about re-opening the case, but he killed himself before he could do anything. Besides, he was retired, so he would have had to persuade the new chief of police, who I don’t think would have been especially keen on the idea. The case was solved. The question of guilt had been established, even though there was never a proper trial because the girls were so young.’
‘I don’t know whether you’ve heard, but …’ Erica began, glancing at her mobile. Still no word from Patrik. ‘A little girl went missing yesterday afternoon, or possibly even since the night before, from the same farm where Stella lived.’
Viola stared at her.
‘What? No, I haven’t heard a thing. I’ve been in my studio, working on the paintings for my show. What happened?’
‘They don’t know yet. They’ve been out searching since yesterday afternoon. My husband is a police officer, so he’s involved in the search.’
‘Oh no. Good gracious.’
Viola was struggling to find the right words. No doubt she was experiencing the same flood of emotions that Erica had on hearing the news.
‘It’s a strange coincidence,’ said Erica. ‘Too strange. And the girl is the same age as Stella. Four years old.’
‘Oh, dear God,’ said Viola. ‘Maybe she just got lost. That farm is in a rather remote spot, isn’t it?’
‘Yes, it is. I hope that’s what happened.’
But Erica could see Viola wasn’t convinced either.
‘Did your father write down any notes on the case? Do you think he might have saved some of the investigative materials at home?’
‘Not that I’m aware of,’ replied Viola. ‘My two brothers and I took care of Pappa’s estate after he died, but I can’t recall seeing anything. I can check with my brothers, but I don’t think there were any notebooks or case files. If there were, I’m afraid we must have thrown them out. None of us are sentimental about saving things. We believe we keep our memories in here.’
She placed her hand on her heart.
Erica knew what she meant and wished she was the same way. She had a hard time getting rid of things with sentimental value, and Patrik was always joking that he was married to a hoarder.
‘Please do ask them. And here’s my phone number, in case you happen to find anything. Or if you remember something your father said about the case. Anything at all. Don’t hesitate to phone, no matter how insignificant it might seem. You never know.’
Erica took a business card from her purse and handed it to Viola, who studied it for a moment before setting it on the table.
‘Such awful news about that little girl. I hope they find her,’ she said, shaking her head.
‘I hope so too,’ replied Erica, again glancing at her mobile.
Still no message from Patrik.
‘Well, thank you,’ she said, getting up to leave. ‘I’ll try to stop by the gallery on Friday if I can. I love your paintings.’
‘I hope to see you then,’ said Viola, blushing at Erica’s praise.
As Erica headed for her car, the scent from the roses lingered in her nostrils. And Viola’s words rang in her ears.
Leif had harboured doubts that Marie and Helen were guilty.
It felt as if they’d been waiting for an eternity, but an hour after Mellberg made the call, Torbjörn Ruud and his team of technicians from Uddevalla came walking through the woods. Patrik ushered them towards the tree trunk a couple of metres inside the area he had cordoned off.
‘Oh hell,’ said Torbjörn. Patrik nodded.
He knew crime scene techs had seen just about everything, and over time they couldn’t help but become inured to the horror. But dead children never ceased to affect them. The contrast between the vitality of a young child and the utter finality of death felt like a punch in the solar plexus.
‘Is that where she is?’ asked Torbjörn.
‘Under the tree trunk,’ Patrik confirmed. ‘I haven’t gone over to check. I wanted to wait for you to get here so as to avoid having anyone else walking through the site. According to the men who found her, there’s a hollow space, and her body was shoved inside. That’s why we didn’t find her earlier, even though we searched this area several times.’
‘Are those the men who found her?’
Torbjörn pointed at Harald, Johannes and Karim, who were standing a short distance away.
‘Yes. I asked them to stay here, so you could make sure nothing at the crime scene came from them. I assume you’ll want to photograph their shoes to identify which footprints are theirs.’
‘That’s right,’ said Torbjörn. He rattled off some instructions to one of the techs he’d brought along. Then he put on a protective suit and pulled plastic coverings over his shoes. Patrik did the same.
‘Come on,’ said Torbjörn when they were both ready.
Patrik took a deep breath and followed him over to the tree. He steeled himself for what they were about to see, but the sight still upset him so much that for a moment he froze. The first thing he saw was a child’s hand. As he’d been told, the little girl’s naked body had been stuffed into a hollow in the ground underneath the tree. She was curled up as if in a foetal position. Her face was turned towards them, though partially hidden by her hand, which was black with dirt. Her blond hair was covered with dirt and leaves, and Patrik had to stop himself from bending down to brush off the debris. Who could have done such a thing? What kind of person would do that? Fury rushed through his veins, giving him the strength to do what he had to do. It helped him to remain cold and professional, putting his own feelings aside until later. He owed it to the little girl and her parents. And after many years of working together, he knew Torbjörn would be doing the same.
They squatted down next to each other and took in all the details. The child’s body was mostly hidden from view, making it impossible to tell the cause of death. That would come later. What mattered at the moment was securing any evidence the perpetrator might have left behind.
‘I’ll step away for a while and let your team get to work,’ said Patrik. ‘Let me know when we can lift her out. I want to help.’
Torbjörn nodded, and signalled for the techs to move in and begin the meticulous task of collecting evidence from the area surrounding the tree. It was a task that could not be hurried. The smallest strand of hair, a cigarette butt, a piece of plastic, everything found in the area would have to be photographed, placed in plastic bags, and labelled. Any footprints in the loose soil would have to be lifted by pouring a viscous substance into the indentation; once the substance hardened, the techs could remove the entire footprint and take it back to the lab