The Hidden Child

‘Okay, okay, I’ll take the damn dog. But only for a couple of days. And you’re going to have to wash him off before I take him home.’ He shook his finger at Annika, who looked relieved.

‘No problem, I’ll give him a bath here at the station,’ she said eagerly. Then she added, ‘Thanks so much, Bertil.’

Mellberg grunted. ‘Just make sure that the next time I see that dog, he’s squeaky clean! Otherwise he’s not setting foot in my place!’

He stomped angrily down the corridor and slammed the door to his office behind him.

Annika and Paula smiled at each other. The dog whimpered and happily thumped his tail against the floor.

‘Have a good day,’ said Erica, waving at Maja, who ignored her mother. She was sitting on the floor in front of the TV, watching Teletubbies.

‘We’re going to have a cosy time together,’ said Patrik, giving Erica a kiss. ‘This little girl and I will be just fine for the next few months.’

‘You make it sound as if I’m going to be off sailing the seven seas,’ said Erica with a laugh. ‘But I’ll be coming downstairs for lunch.’

‘Do you think this will work out, you staying in the house to work?’

‘We can at least give it a try. Just pretend I’m not here.’

‘No problem. As soon as you close the door to your workroom, you no longer exist for me.’ Patrik gave her a wink.

‘Hmm. Well, we’ll see,’ replied Erica and headed upstairs. ‘But it’ll be worth it if I can avoid having to rent office space.’

She went into her workroom and closed the door with mixed feelings. In the twelve months she’d been at home taking care of Maja, she’d found herself longing for the day she could pass the baton to Patrik and devote herself to grown-up matters again. She’d grown sick and tired of playgrounds, sandboxes, and children’s TV programmes. Making the perfect sand pie didn’t exactly qualify as intellectual stimulation, and no matter how much she loved her daughter if she was forced to sing ‘Itsy-bitsy Spider’ one more time she’d go crazy. Now it was Patrik’s turn to look after the child.

With a certain feeling of reverence, Erica sat down in front of the computer, pressed the ‘on’ button, and listened with pleasure to the familiar hum. The deadline for the new book in her true crime series was February, but she’d already managed to do some of the research over the summer, so she felt ready to get started. She opened the Word document she’d dubbed ‘Elias’, since that was the name of the murderer’s first victim, and placed her fingers on the keyboard. A discreet knock on the door interrupted her.

‘Sorry for disturbing you …’ Patrik opened the door and peered at Erica from under the shock of hair that fell over his forehead ‘… but I was wondering where you put Maja’s zip suit.’

‘In the drier.’

Patrik nodded and closed the door.

Again she placed her fingers on the keyboard and took a deep breath. Another knock.

‘I’m sorry, I promise to leave you alone, but I just need to ask what sort of clothes Maja should wear today. It’s really chilly outside, but she always gets overheated, and then it might be easier for her to catch cold …’ Patrik smiled sheepishly.

‘All she needs is a thin shirt and trousers under the zip suit. And she usually wears the thin cotton cap.’

‘Thanks,’ said Patrik and shut the door again. Erica was just about to type the first sentence when she heard cries from downstairs. They quickly rose to a crescendo, and after listening for two minutes, she pushed back her chair and went downstairs.

‘I’ll give you a hand. It’s hopeless trying to get her dressed.’

‘Yeah, I can see that,’ said Patrik, sweat dripping from his brow after the struggle to shoehorn a complaining and resistant Maja into her outdoor clothing.

Five minutes later she was still sulky but fully dressed, and Erica gave both daughter and husband a kiss on the lips before she hustled them out the door.

‘Take a long walk so Mamma can have some peace and quiet to work,’ she said. Patrik looked embarrassed.

‘I’m sorry. I guess it will take a few days to get into the swing of things, but then you should have all the peace and quiet you want. I promise.’

‘That’ll be nice,’ said Erica and firmly closed the door after them. She poured herself a big mug of coffee and went back upstairs to her workroom. Finally she could get started.

‘Shh … Stop making such a damn racket.’

‘What’s the problem? My mother says that they’re both away. Nobody has bothered to take in the post all summer. They must have forgotten to get it redirected, so she’s been emptying their letter box since June. Take it easy, we can make as much noise as we want.’ Mattias laughed, but Adam still looked sceptical. There was something creepy about the old house. And there was something creepy about those old men too, no matter what Mattias said. He wasn’t taking any chances.

‘So how do we get in?’ He hated the fact that his fear made his voice go up a notch, but he couldn’t help it. He often wished that he was more like Mattias. Brave and fearless, sometimes bordering on reckless. But he was also the one who got all the girls.

‘We’ll see. There’s bound to be some way for us to get inside.’

‘And you’re speaking from your vast experience breaking into houses?’ Adam laughed, but he still made sure to keep his voice down.

‘Hey, I’ve done a lot of things you don’t know about,’ said Mattias loudly.

Oh, right, thought Adam, but he didn’t dare contradict his friend. Sometimes Mattias liked to play the tough guy, and Adam let him do it. He knew better than to get into that sort of discussion with Mattias.

‘What do you think he’s got inside there?’ Mattias’s eyes were shining as they slowly made their way around the house, looking for a window or a hatch, anything that might allow them access.

‘No idea,’ said Adam, looking over his shoulder anxiously. He was feeling less happy about the situation with each passing second.

‘Maybe some cool Nazi souvenirs. What if he has uniforms and stuff like that?’ There was no mistaking the enthusiasm in Mattias’s voice. Ever since they’d done a class project on the SS, he’d been obsessed, reading everything he could find about World War II and Nazism. Everyone knew that the neighbour down the road was some sort of expert on Germany and the Nazis, so Mattias had felt an irresistible urge to find out what he had in his possession.

‘But maybe he doesn’t keep anything like that in his house,’ Adam attempted to object, even though he knew it was hopeless. ‘Pappa said he was a history teacher before he retired, so he probably just has a lot of books and things like that. It doesn’t mean he has any cool stuff.’

‘We’ll see soon enough.’ Mattias’s eyes flashed triumphantly as he pointed at a window. ‘Look. That window is open a crack.’

Adam noted with dismay that Mattias was right. He’d been quietly hoping that it would turn out to be impossible to get inside the house.

‘We just need something to push up the window with.’ Mattias glanced around. He settled on a window latch that had come off and landed on the ground.

‘Okay, let’s see now.’ Mattias held the latch overhead and poked one end into a corner of the window. The window didn’t budge. ‘Shit! This has to work.’ Sticking out his tongue in concentration, he had another go. It wasn’t easy to hold the latch overhead and apply force at the same time, and he was breathing hard from the effort. Finally he managed to insert the latch another half an inch.

‘They’re going to notice that someone broke in!’ Adam protested weakly, but Mattias didn’t seem to hear him.

‘I’m going to make this fucking window open!’ Sweat rolling down his face, he gave it one last prod, and the window swung up.

‘Yes!’ Mattias clenched his fist in a gesture of victory and then turned in excitement to Adam.

‘Give me a leg-up.’

‘But maybe there’s something we can use to climb up on, a ladder or …’

‘Forget it, just give me a boost, and then I’ll pull you up afterwards.’

Obediently Adam moved close to the wall, lacing his fingers to form a step for Mattias. He winced as Mattias’s shoe dug into the palms of his hands, but he ignored the pain and lifted his friend upwards.

Mattias caught hold of the window ledge and managed to hoist himself so that he could plant first one foot and then the other on the sill. He wrinkled his nose. God, what a smell! The place stank. He moved aside the blind and peered into the room. It looked like it might be a library, but all the blinds were down, so the room was wrapped in shadow.