‘We were children and completely incapable of committing such a crime, even though we were charged and convicted. Witch hunts still go on, even in this day and age.’
‘So what was it like for you, in the years that followed?’
Marie tossed her head. She would never be able to describe those years to him. He’d probably grown up with two perfect parents who helped him with everything, and he now lived with a significant other and their kids. She glanced at his left hand. A wife, not a significant other, she corrected herself.
‘It was … educational,’ she said. ‘I plan to write about it in detail in my memoirs some day. It’s not something I can describe in a few sentences.’
‘Since you mention your memoirs, I’ve heard that the local author, Erica Falck, is planning to write a book about the murder and about you and Helen. Are you cooperating with her? And have you and Helen approved the book?’
Marie hesitated before answering. Erica had contacted her, but she was in negotiations with one of the big book publishers in Stockholm regarding her own version of the story.
‘I haven’t yet decided whether to cooperate,’ she said, signalling that she had no intention of answering any more questions on that topic.
Axel took the hint and changed the subject.
‘I assume you’ve heard about the little girl who’s been missing since yesterday? From the same farm where Stella was living when she disappeared.’
‘A strange coincidence, but no more than that. The girl probably just got lost somewhere.’
‘Let’s hope so,’ said Axel.
He glanced down at his notebook, but at that moment Jörgen motioned for Marie. PR was great, but right now she wanted to go into the Dannholmen living room set and put on a brilliant performance. She had to convince the backers that this film was going to be a hit.
She shook hands with Axel, holding his hand a little longer than necessary as she thanked him for the interview. She began walking towards Jörgen and the rest of the team, but then stopped and turned around. Axel’s tape recorder was still rolling, and Marie leaned forward and in a hoarse voice spoke a few numbers into the microphone. She glanced at Axel.
‘That’s my phone number.’
Then she turned away and stepped into the 1970s, entering the set of the windswept island that had been Ingrid Bergman’s paradise on earth.
As soon as Patrik took the call from an unknown number, he knew this would be the news they’d been dreading. He listened to the voice on the other end of the line, then motioned to Gösta and Mellberg who were standing a short distance away talking to the dog handlers.
‘Yes, I know where it is,’ he said. ‘Don’t touch a thing. Not a thing. Wait there until we arrive.’
By the time he ended the call, Mellberg and Gösta had joined him. There was no need to say a word. One look at his expression told them all they needed to know.
‘Where is she?’ Gösta asked.
His eyes were fixed on the farmhouse where Nea’s mother was standing in the kitchen making more coffee.
‘The same place where the other girl was found.’
‘Bloody hell!’ said Mellberg.
‘But we already searched that area. Several groups have searched it,’ said Gösta with a frown. ‘How could they have missed her?’
‘I don’t know,’ said Patrik. ‘That was Harald on the phone – the man who owns Zetterlind bakery. It was his group that found her.’
‘The same guy who found Stella,’ said Gösta quietly.
Mellberg stared at him.
‘That’s quite a coincidence. What are the odds that the same person, after a thirty-year gap, would find a second murdered little girl?’
Gösta waved his hand dismissively.
‘We checked him out the first time, but he had an airtight alibi. He had nothing to do with the murder.’ He looked at Patrik. ‘Because this is murder, right? Not an accident? Considering that she was found at the same spot, it seems more than likely we’re talking about murder.’
Patrik nodded.
‘We’ll need to wait and see what the techs say, but Harald said she was naked.’
‘Bloody hell,’ said Mellberg again, his face turning pale.
Patrik took a deep breath. The morning sun had begun its climb upward, and the temperature had already risen so much that his shirt was sticking to his body with sweat.
‘I suggest we split up. I’ll go and meet Harald at the site where the girl was found. His group is waiting there. I’ll take some crime scene tape with me and cordon off the area. Bertil, ring Torbjörn in Uddevalla and ask him to come out here as fast as possible with a forensic team. When the search parties get back here, tell them the search has been called off. We don’t want any volunteers going out searching again. And tell the dog handlers and the helicopter pilots they can stop looking. Gösta, could you …’
Patrik fell silent, giving his colleague a troubled look.
Gösta nodded.
‘I’ll do it,’ he said.
Patrik didn’t envy him the task. But it was only logical for him to ask Gösta to do it. He’d had the most contact with Nea’s parents, and Patrik knew he would be able to deal with the situation.
‘And ring the pastor too,’ said Patrik. Then he turned to Mellberg. ‘Bertil, go get Nea’s father as soon as he comes back with his group, so he doesn’t hear the news before Gösta has a chance to speak to him.’
‘That won’t be easy,’ said Mellberg, grimacing.
Beads of sweat had formed on his upper lip.
‘I know. The news is going to spread like wildfire, but do your best.’
Mellberg nodded. Patrik left his colleagues and headed for the woods. He still couldn’t understand it. The place where Stella had been found thirty years ago had been the first location they’d searched. Yet somehow they had missed her.
After walking for ten minutes he caught sight of the three men who were waiting for him. In addition to Harald, there were two younger men, one of whom looked like a foreigner. Patrik shook hands and greeted them. Not one of them wanted to meet his eye.
‘Where is she?’ he asked.
‘Under the big tree trunk over there,’ said Harald, pointing. ‘That’s why we didn’t see her at first. There’s a hollow space underneath, and someone stuffed her body into it. You can only see her if you go close and move the tree trunk.’
Patrik nodded. That explained it. But he cursed himself for not giving the order to search the area more thoroughly.
‘You know she’s back, right? For the first time since she was sent away.’
Patrik didn’t have to ask who Harald meant. Everybody in town was aware of Marie Wall’s return, especially since she’d come back under such dramatic circumstances.
‘Yes, we know,’ he said without speculating any further about what her return might mean.
But the thought had already occurred to him. It was certainly a strange coincidence, to say the least: no sooner had Marie returned than another little girl from the same farm turned up murdered, in the exact same spot where Stella was found.
‘I’m going to cordon off the area, and in a while our forensics team will inspect the crime scene.’
He set down the bag he was carrying and took out two big rolls of blue-and-white police tape.
‘Should