Unwanted (13 page)

‘If that isn’t evil, you tell me what is.’

Dumbfounded, Fredrika could only watch the older woman’s little theatrical performance, or whatever you could call it.

‘Perhaps you didn’t know that Sara had well-documented physical injuries each time she reported your son for assault?’

Teodora stopped her before she launched into her next point.

‘Of course I knew,’ she said, glaring at Fredrika as if to say the question was both unnecessary and lacking in judgment. ‘Some of her other male friends must have lost patience with her, of course.’

Then Teodora reached across the table and took the cup of coffee Fredrika had scarcely more than tasted.

‘I have rather a lot to do, as I’m sure you understand,’ she said apologetically. ‘So if you have no more questions . . . ?’

Fredrika swiftly took one of her cards from her inside pocket and put it on the table.

‘Feel free to contact me any time you like,’ she said firmly.

Teodora nodded and said nothing, but they both knew she would never ring.

When they were back in the gloomy hall, Fredrika asked:

‘Does Gabriel still keep any of his things here?’

Teodora again pursed her lips.

‘Naturally. This is his home, after all. He has his own room upstairs.’

And before Fredrika had time to respond, she went on:

‘Unless you have a search warrant, I shall have to ask you to leave my house at once.’

Fredrika hastily thanked her and left. It was not until she was standing on the steps and Teodora was shutting the door behind her that she realized what she had forgotten to ask:

‘By the way, what size shoes does your son take?’

E
llen Lind had a secret. She had just fallen in love. This made her feel terribly guilty, for some reason. Somewhere out there, she thought, looking out of the window, a child was being held captive by some deranged person, and down in Söder the child’s mother was going through all the torments of hell. Ellen had children of her own. Her daughter was nearly fourteen and her son twelve. She had been on her own with them for quite a few years now, and had no words to describe what they meant to her. Sometimes at work she felt herself going all warm inside at the very thought of them. They had a good life, a full life, and occasionally – but only occasionally – the children’s father put in a brief appearance. Ellen was waiting patiently for the children to get older and understand how badly their father had behaved all those years. At their age, there was no room for anything but pleasure when their dad got in touch. They never asked about him, and when he did turn up, Ellen noted they had stopped asking him where he’d been, and why he hadn’t rung for weeks or months.

Ellen had found out from mutual acquaintances that he had a new girlfriend again, and that she had very quickly got pregnant, which Ellen did not find very amusing. In fact the thought of it made her gnash her teeth. Why have more children, when he didn’t even look after the ones he’d already got?

But more than anything, Ellen thought about her new love. Rather unexpectedly, it was her interest in stocks and shares that had brought them together. She hadn’t yet come across any colleagues who shared her enthusiasm, but outside work she had several friends who were eager to give her tips and advice. It was all just a big gamble for Ellen. She never invested large sums, and she was careful never to risk her profits. This last spring had enriched her life, and the children’s, more than she had ever dared wish. A successful and in fact rather bold venture had paid so well that Ellen and the kids had been able to go on a package holiday abroad for a couple of weeks earlier that summer. They went to Alanya in Turkey, staying in a five-star hotel. All inclusive, of course. Masses of food and drink. Excursions and the beach or the pool in the daytime. Entertainment in the evenings. Ellen had realized how desperate she’d been for a break like that. She and the children, just as it always had been.

Ellen was no flirt. She was actually rather shy, and not used to being paid compliments. It wasn’t that she was ugly or anything, absolutely not, but she did tend to create a rather ‘ordinary’ impression. Neither too much colour, nor too little. Not a fabulous wardrobe, but not a dull one, either. It was easy to make her laugh, and she had a pretty smile. Her eyes were narrow and her hair was straight. Her bust was maybe a little tired after feeding two babies, but the way Ellen dressed hid it well.

Then one evening in the hotel bar in Alanya he was suddenly standing there, asking if he could get her a drink.

Ellen loved to recall that moment and blushed every time. He was so good looking and his eyes had a lovely glitter to them. The top few buttons of his shirt were undone and Ellen could see dark hair. And he was tall and tanned. All in all, he was incredibly attractive.

Ellen wasn’t a pushover by any means, but this man had really turned her on. He flattered and flirted, but never too much. Not so much that she had to take it seriously. They had such a lot to talk about. Ellen accepted several glasses of wine, and the time simply flew by. Just after midnight she said she had to go; the children – who had been keeping themselves amused – wanted to go back to the room, and Ellen didn’t really want to let them go on their own.

‘Will I see you tomorrow?’ the man asked.

Ellen nodded eagerly –
so eagerly
– and smiled. She did very much want to see him again, and was pleased that the interest was mutual.

Perhaps she had had her doubts when it was time to come home at the end of the holiday. They’d tried to meet for a while every day, always when the children were busy elsewhere. They hadn’t been to bed together, but he had kissed her on two different occasions. In the end it was Ellen who brought it up on their last evening.

‘Shall we see each other in Stockholm when we get back?’

A slightly evasive look came into his eyes, trying to avoid looking at her.

Damn, was Ellen’s immediate thought.

Then he drew himself up straight.

‘I have to work long hours,’ he said gently. ‘Very long hours,’ he clarified. ‘I’d like to see you again, but I really can’t promise anything.’

Ellen had assured him she didn’t need any promises at all. She just wanted to know there was some chance of them seeing each other again. Yes, there was, he assured her in his turn, clearly relieved she wasn’t demanding any guarantees. But he didn’t actually live in Stockholm, though his job brought him there fairly often. He would ring her next time he was passing through the city.

A week went by, and the rainy summer became a fact. And on one of all those rainy days he rang, and since then, Ellen hadn’t been able to stop smiling. How totally ridiculous, but what a glorious relief. The only fly in the ointment was the fact that they really did only meet as rarely as he had hinted they might, and then there was the almost complete lack of interest he showed in her children. But of course she understood that, too. Making him part of the children’s lives straight away would mean making the relationship too serious too fast. That was why, Ellen told herself, it was more rational to see him in his hotel room, the way he always suggested. They would go out for a meal at some expensive restaurant, and then go back to his room. Once they had spent that first night together, Ellen was sure. There was no way she would give this up without a fight. He was simply too good to be true.

Ellen looked at the calendar she had on her desk. She had counted the weeks since they got back from Turkey. Five weeks had passed. In those five weeks, she and her new love had seen each other four times. Bearing in mind that he didn’t live in town, Ellen thought that felt like a very solid start, a verdict confirmed by the friend who looked after the children for her when she went on her dates.

‘I’m so happy for you,’ she whooped.

Ellen fervently hoped her friend’s enthusiasm wouldn’t wear off, because it looked as though she was going to need a babysitter again soon. She had just reached for her mobile to call her lover, when her desk phone rang. It was the central command unit, asking her to take a call from someone with something to report about the missing girl, Lilian. Ellen accepted the call at once, and heard a reedy female voice at the other end.

‘It’s about that child that went missing,’ she said.

Ellen took it slowly.

‘Yes?’ she said.

‘I think . . .’ the woman went quiet. ‘I think I might know who did it.’

More silence.

‘I think it might be a man I met,’ she said in a low voice.

Ellen frowned.

‘What makes you think that?’ she asked gently.

Ellen could hear the other woman breathing, not being sure whether to go on or not.

‘He was just horrible. Just . . . out of his mind.’

Another pause.

‘He was always talking about it, about doing it.’

‘Sorry,’ said Ellen. ‘You’ve lost me there. What was it he talked about doing?’

‘Putting everything right,’ the woman whispered. ‘He talked about putting everything right.’

The woman sounded as though she was starting to cry.

‘What did he want to put right?’

‘He said there were women who’d done things that meant they didn’t deserve their children,’ the woman said in a brittle voice. ‘That was what he wanted to put right.’

‘He was going to take their children from them?’

‘I never understood what he said, I never wanted to listen,’ said the woman, and now Ellen was sure she was crying. ‘And he hit me so hard, so hard. Shouted at me: I’d got to stop having nightmares, I’d got to fight against it. And I’d got to help put everything right.’

‘Sorry, but I don’t think I understand all this,’ Ellen said tentatively. ‘The nightmares and all that.’

‘He said,’ the woman sobbed, ‘that I’d got to stop dreaming, stop remembering what had happened before. He said that if I couldn’t do it, that showed I was weak. He said I’d got to be strong, to join the fight.’

The woman was silent for a moment, and then she said:

‘He called me his doll. He’d never be able to do it on his own; he must have another doll now.’

Ellen was so nonplussed that she really did not know what to say next. She decided to try to steer the conversation back to the bit about children.

‘Have you got children of your own,’ she asked the woman.

The woman gave a weary laugh.

‘No, I haven’t got any,’ she said. ‘And he hadn’t, either.’

‘Was that why he wanted to take another person’s child?’

‘No, no, no,’ the woman protested. ‘He wasn’t just going to take it; he didn’t want it for himself. The important thing was for the women to get their punishment, to have their children taken away from them.’

‘But why?’ Ellen asked in desperation.

The woman said nothing.

‘Hello?’ said Ellen.

‘I can’t talk any more now, I’ve already said too much,’ the woman whimpered.

‘Tell me your name,’ pleaded Ellen. ‘You’ve nothing to be afraid of. We can help you.’

Ellen admittedly doubted the confused woman’s story had any relevance for the case, but she was quite convinced the woman needed help.

‘I can’t tell you my name,’ the woman whispered. ‘I can’t. And don’t you go saying you can help me, because you lot have never been able to. But the women weren’t to be allowed to keep their children, because they didn’t deserve to.’

Why not, Ellen wondered. Out loud she said:

‘Where did you meet him? Tell me his name.’

‘I can’t tell you any more now, I just can’t.’

Ellen thought the woman was going to hang up, and tried to keep her on the line by asking:

‘But why did you ring if you don’t want to tell us who he is?’

The question made the other woman hesitate.

‘I don’t know what his name is. And the women didn’t deserve their children, because if you don’t like all children, you shouldn’t be allowed to have any at all.’

Then she ended the call, and Ellen sat there with the receiver in her hand, bewildered. She was sure she hadn’t found out anything of particular value. She hadn’t got a name, and the woman hadn’t explained why the man she knew had taken that particular child. Ellen shook her head, replaced the telephone receiver and wrote a short memo of the incoming call, which she put with all the rest. She made a mental note not to forget to mention it to the others in the team.

T
hey were all waiting for Fredrika in the Den when she got back to HQ from Teodora Sebastiansson’s. It was several hours after lunchtime, and in a desperate attempt to boost her blood sugar level a little, Fredrika gulped down a chocolate wafer she found in the bottom of her handbag.

Alex Recht was standing by himself in one corner of the room. His expression was tense. He was deeply concerned. The case of Lilian Sebastiansson’s disappearance was developing in a direction he could never have predicted. Initial tests had confirmed the hair and clothes were Lilian’s. They had nothing else to go on at all. There wasn’t a single fingerprint on the box, inside or out. There were no traces of blood or anything like that. And the call on that goddamned courier company had yielded no information either.