The Fire Witness

She nods and starts to pick up pieces of glass from the floor with Almira.

‘I’ll get the vacuum cleaner,’ Daniel says, and leaves the cottage.

He pushes the door shut from outside, but it swings open again, so he slams it, making the framed Carl Larsson print rattle against the wall.

‘Did Miranda have any enemies?’ Gunnarsson asks the group.

‘No,’ Almira replies, and giggles.

Indie glances at Joona.

‘OK, listen!’ Gunnarsson says, raising his voice. ‘I just want you to answer my questions, not start shrieking and messing about. It can’t be that bloody difficult, can it?’

‘That depends on the questions,’ Caroline replies calmly.

‘I’ll probably stick to shrieking,’ Lu Chu mutters.

‘Truth or dare,’ Indie says, pointing at Joona with a smile.

‘Truth,’ Joona replies.

‘I’m asking the questions,’ Gunnarsson protests.

‘What does this mean?’ Joona asks, and covers his face with his hands.

‘What? I don’t know,’ Indie replies. ‘Vicky and Miranda were the ones who did all that—’

‘I can’t handle this,’ Caroline interrupts. ‘You didn’t see Miranda, that’s how she was lying, there was so much blood, there was blood everywhere. And …’

Her voice collapses into sobs, and the psychologist goes over and tries to calm her down.

‘Who’s Vicky?’ Joona asks, getting up from the armchair.

‘She’s the most recent arrival here.’

‘So where the hell is she?’ Lu Chu snaps.

‘Which one’s her room?’ Joona asks quickly.

‘She’s probably sneaked out to see her fuck-buddy,’ Tuula says.

‘We usually store up Stesolid pills, then sleep like—’

‘Who are we talking about now?’ Gunnarsson asks in a loud voice.

‘Vicky Bennet,’ Caroline replies. ‘I haven’t seen her all—’

‘Where the hell is she?’

‘Vicky’s just too fucking much,’ Lu Chu laughs.

‘Turn the television off,’ Gunnarsson says, sounding stressed. ‘I want everyone to calm down, and—’

‘Stop shouting!’ Tuula shouts, and turns the volume up.

Joona crouches down in front of Caroline, looks into her eyes, and holds her gaze with calm intensity.

‘Which is Vicky’s room?’

‘The last one, at the end of the corridor,’ Caroline replies.

19 (#ulink_9e268bad-9f0d-52e4-b065-66668a9a94a3)

Joona leaves the small house and hurries across the yard, passing the counsellor with the vacuum cleaner and saying hello to the forensics officers before running up the steps and going back into the main building. It’s gloomy now, the lamps are switched off, but the mats on the floor stand out like stepping stones.

One girl is missing, Joona thinks. No one has seen her. Maybe she ran away in the chaos, maybe the others are trying to help her by withholding what they know.

The crime scene investigation has only just begun, and the rooms haven’t been searched yet. The entire Birgitta Home should have been examined with a toothcomb, but there hasn’t been time, too much has been happening all at once.

The girls are anxious and scared.

The victim support team should be here.

The police need reinforcements, more forensics officers, more resources.

Joona shudders at the thought that the missing girl might be hiding in her room. She could have seen something, and is now so terrified that she daren’t come out.

He hurries into the corridor containing the girls’ rooms.

The walls and timbers are creaking slightly, but otherwise the building is quiet. In the alcove the door with no handle is standing ajar. The dead girl is lying on the bed in there with her hands over her eyes.

Joona suddenly remembers that he saw three horizontal marks in the blood on the edge of the alcove. Blood from three fingers, but not fingerprints. Joona noticed the marks, but was so absorbed in structuring his impressions of the crime scene that only now does he realise that they were on the wrong side. The marks didn’t lead away from the murder, but the other way, further along the corridor. There are faint prints from boots, shoes, and bare feet leading in all directions, but the three streaks of blood lead deeper into the building.

Whoever left the marks was planning to do something in one of the other girls’ rooms.

No more dead bodies, Joona whispers to himself.

He pulls on a pair of latex gloves and walks to the last room. When he opens the door he hears a rustling sound, and stops abruptly, trying to see. The sound disappears. Joona carefully reaches in for the light switch with his hand.

He hears the noise again, it’s an odd, metallic sound.

‘Vicky?’

He feels across the wall, finds the switch, and turns the light on. Yellow light immediately fills the barely furnished room. There’s a creak as the window swings open towards the forest and lake. A sudden noise in the corner draws Joona’s attention, and he sees a birdcage lying on the floor. A yellow budgie is flapping its wings and climbing the roof of the cage.

The smell of blood is unmistakeable. A mixture of iron and something else, something cloying and rancid.

Joona lays out some plastic mats and walks slowly into the room.