‘Karoline?’
She couldn’t believe her eyes. Karoline was not in her bed. There was blood on the floor. She could not be awake. She had stepped in the blood. So she must be dreaming. She was still asleep. She should never have taken that sleeping tablet, but her doctor had insisted. Cecilie Mykle stayed in her daughter’s bedroom while she waited to wake up. She didn’t like this dream. Karoline was not in her bed. It was a quarter to ten in the morning. There was blood on the floor. There was no electricity. The house was dark. She had goose pimples on her arms under her jumper. She really wanted to wake up now. The alarm clock will go off any moment now, she thought, and chewed her lip.
This is just a dream.
Cecilie Mykle was in shock. She didn’t even hear the distant ringing of the telephone.
Chapter 30
Mia Krüger sat by the window in Kaffebrenneriet in Storgata, drinking her second cortado of the day. She had eaten a scone and drunk a glass of orange juice and was suffering from a surprisingly bad hangover, and yet her body was slowly but surely starting to recover after last night’s excesses with Susanne. Normally, she never read the newspapers, but for some reason she had done so today, even though she found the front pages tasteless. ‘The Babes in the Wood Murders’ seemed to be what the papers had decided to call them. Mia hated it when the media did this, coined names and logos for murder investigations, the hunt for missing people, civil unrest, war, or indeed any form of tragedy. Did they not realize the effect it had on their readers? Did they not care that they fuelled people’s fears, terrified them? Damn them all to hell. Why was there no law against it? No punishment? And, worse, did these idiots not understand that they were giving the culprit exactly what they wanted: the oxygen of publicity? Did they not know this? That it was frequently this very attention such people were seeking? Extra column inches in all the newspapers. ‘Babes in the Wood’. Sometimes, she wondered how reporters came up with such phrases. There were interviews with neighbours, friends and staff from the nursery. ‘Police have no leads.’ She wondered how the media knew that. Photographs of Pauline on the beach and on her birthday with her family. Pictures of Johanne skating or in the swimming pool with her grandfather. Mia shook her head, and yet she was drawn to the newspapers. ‘No suspects.’ ‘A nation in mourning.’ Pictures from the funerals. Images of flowers and candles at the crime scene. Letters and cards for the girls. Children crying. Adults crying.
She put down the newspaper and had just knocked back the last of her cortado when her mobile rang.
‘Yes? Mia speaking.’
‘It’s Holger. Where are you?’
‘Kaffebrenneriet, Storgata. What is it?’
‘Another girl has gone missing.’
Mia felt the hairs on her arms stand up. She put on her leather jacket and was out of the door in a matter of seconds.
‘Are you at the office?’
‘I’m just about to leave.’
‘Pick me up outside 7-11 in Pløensgate.’
‘OK.’
Mia ended the call and ran down towards Youngstorvet. Damn. Number three. Three lines on the nail of her left little finger. No, not this time. This time they had a head start. Another girl had gone missing, but they were on the case. There would be no more lines. Mia did not know who this new girl was, but she had already made up her mind as she pushed her way through the crowds on her way down Torggata that they would find this girl before it was too late.
She arrived at the corner of Youngstorvet just as Holger’s black Audi drove down Pløensgate. She jumped into the passenger seat and slammed the door shut.
‘Where are we going?’ she panted.
‘Disen,’ Munch replied briefly. ‘Disenveien. The call came in ten minutes ago. Andrea Lyng. She wasn’t in her bed when her father woke up.’
Munch put the flashing blue light on the roof and pressed the accelerator.
‘He has only just woken up?’
She checked the clock on her mobile.
‘So it would seem,’ Munch muttered.
‘Who’s up there?’
‘Kim and Anette. Curry is on his way.’
Munch sounded the horn irritably at a tram and a couple of pedestrians who had failed to get out of his way.
‘Bloody idiots.’
‘She disappeared from her home?’
Munch nodded.
‘How odd. The other two disappeared from their nursery school.’
‘Get out of the bloody way, you muppet.’
Munch sounded the horn again, finally managed to extricate himself from the traffic and headed towards Sinsen.
‘So only the father was at home? Where is the mother?’
‘No idea,’ Munch muttered.
His mobile rang and he answered the call. His voice was brusque. This was not one of his good days.
‘Yes? Damn! Yes, cordon off the area. And send Forensics up there immediately. What? No, I don’t give a toss about that, we have priority. No, of course we’re treating it as a crime scene. We’ll be there in five minutes.’
He ended the call and shook his head.
‘Anette?’
‘Kim.’
‘Found something?’
‘Blood.’
‘Blood?’
Munch nodded grimly.
‘So perhaps it’s not our guy,’ Mia suggested. ‘The MO is completely different.’
‘You think so?’
He said the latter without looking at her. A six-year-old girl had gone missing from her bedroom in Disen. Mia found a lozenge in the pocket of her leather jacket. They could always hope that the two cases were not connected. Three lines on the nail of the left little finger. Please, not again. This time, they would not be too late.
Munch sounded the horn again; he had practically come to a standstill because of a couple of punk rockers who saw no reason to increase their speed as they sauntered across a pedestrian crossing, despite the flashing blue lights.
‘The girl’s blood?’ Mia asked.
‘Too early to say. Forensics are on their way.’
‘Did you hear the news about Bakken?’
‘The eagle tattoo, yes. Roger and Randi? An interesting situation. Was he a transvestite?’
‘Sounds like it.’
‘That’s not what I need right now. I really don’t need that.’
The latter was not aimed at her. Munch muttered it to himself through gritted teeth and took Trondheimsveien up to Disen. Disenveien itself was made up of small, red, terraced houses that had woken up to a day out of the ordinary.
‘What have we got?’ Munch said as soon as they were out of the car.
‘Andrea Lyng. Aged six. Missing from her bedroom. Traces of blood all the way from the bottom of the stairs and up to her bedroom. Blood in the bed.’
Kim scratched his head and looked grave.
‘Where is the father?’
‘Living room.’ Kim pointed. ‘He’s completely beside himself.’
‘Is the doctor here?’
Kim nodded and showed them to the front door. They had just reached the gravel path leading to the house when Anette turned up. She had her mobile in her hand and was looking anxious.
‘We have another one.’
‘What?’ Munch burst out. ‘Another missing girl?’
Anette nodded.
‘The call has just come in. Karoline Mykle. Aged six. Disappeared from her bedroom in Skullerud.’
‘Damn!’ Munch said.
‘Blood?’ Mia asked.
Anette nodded.
‘OK,’ Munch said. ‘You two go to Skullerud. Kim and I will stay here. Get a team from Forensics to join you.’
‘They’re already on their way.’ Anette nodded.
Munch glanced at Mia. He didn’t say anything, but she knew what he was thinking.
Two in one day?
Two at the same time?
‘We’ll take my car,’ Anette said, running ahead of Mia to the red Peugeot parked at the kerb.