They must have been terrified.
‘You said you were able to follow their footprints,’ Alex said. ‘That must mean they didn’t get away until it had stopped snowing.’
‘Exactly. The tracks are very clear and well preserved. I think they were running in daylight, with the weather on their side. And the shots were fired less than an hour ago.’
They had been given that information in the car on the way over, along with the news that Säpo had been called out first, because the shots had been heard by the guards in the palace gardens.
‘How much time elapsed between the two shots?’ Fredrika asked.
The CSI frowned and thought for a moment.
‘You’ll have to double-check the witness statements, but I think it was about twenty minutes.’
Alex didn’t say anything, and Fredrika saw his jaw tense as it so often did when he was thinking. Twenty minutes between the shots, yet the boys had gone down fifty metres apart. How was that possible?
‘I can’t make any sense of this,’ Fredrika said.
‘Me neither.’ Alex shook his head. ‘So let’s imagine they managed to get away from whoever abducted them. That they ran off together. Obviously the perpetrator went after them, and…’
He was interrupted by the CSI.
‘They didn’t run together. There’s a whole tangle of footprints among the trees over there. It’s clear that they ran in different directions, but it seems likely that they both spotted the golf course and decided to get out of the forest and head for open ground.’
Fredrika could understand that. A golf course would make them think of some kind of civilisation, the hope of meeting a saviour even though it was the middle of winter. Then again, could you actually tell it was a golf course? She looked around and decided you couldn’t. The flags that normally marked the holes had been removed, and the course resembled nothing more than a gigantic white field.
‘Children act on instinct,’ Alex said. They don’t like dark forests. If they see an alternative, they’ll go for it.’
‘But they would have had more protection in the forest,’ Fredrika objected.
‘I’m not sure they were thinking logically.’
Fredrika thought he was probably right.
‘What can you tell us about the perpetrator’s tracks?’ she said. ‘Or was there more than one?’
She hadn’t really thought about that possibility before she spoke. There could have been more than one person hunting children out on the island.
She and Alex exchanged a look of mutual understanding. The boys might not even have chosen to leave the cover of the trees; they might just as well have been driven out.
But the CSI shook her head.
‘We’ve found prints made by only one pair of shoes. Either we have two killers wearing shoes that are exactly the same size and make, or the children were shot by the same person, which seems more likely.’
The golf course was cold and desolate. Fredrika adjusted her scarf and pulled on her gloves. She wanted to get back in the car, gather her thoughts and digest what she had seen.
The forensic technicians came forward with stretchers. Gently they freed the boys from their icy bed, ready to be transferred to the forensic laboratory in Solna.
‘We need to inform the parents,’ Fredrika said.
She glanced at the police tape that cordoned off the entire area. The first journalists had already appeared. So far all they knew was that shots had been heard in the vicinity of Drottningholm Palace, and that the police had discovered something, but Fredrika was well aware that it was only a matter of time before they learned that the boys had been found.
‘Already in hand,’ Alex said. ‘The mothers are still in the centre, and the fathers have been asked to join them there.’
There were routine procedures for everything, even for the cruellest, most unthinkable news.
Fredrika couldn’t imagine anything worse than being taken aside in the middle of searching for her missing child, and being told that the child was dead.
‘Come on, let’s get back,’ Alex said.
As they turned away, Fredrika couldn’t stop thinking about the paper bags with the faces drawn on them. There must be a message, but she couldn’t see it. Perhaps she wasn’t supposed to; the message could be meant for someone else. In which case the question was whether that person would come forward, or whether he or she would have to be tracked down.
The triumph of good over evil was a recurring theme in the stories Peder Rydh read to his children. It was also a principle that meant a great deal to him.
We get what we deserve.
Past sins may grow old, but they should never be forgotten; there is always time for vengeance.
Just once he had taken on the role of executioner. It had cost him his job, but had probably saved his sanity. He had no idea of what might save Simon and Abraham’s parents.
The boys had been found shot dead, not far from Drottningholm Palace.
In the Solomon Community centre the news was received with shock and sorrow. The silence that followed was so dense that Peder could almost touch it. One by one, the members left. Went home to their families. Back to their lives. Eternally grateful that tragedy had struck someone else and not them.
Peder stayed behind. It was a devastating start to a job that only yesterday had seemed challenging and exciting.
For the second time in as many days, parents from the Solomon Community were being taken to a forensic laboratory to formally identify their dead children. It was incomprehensible.
He found a quiet corner and called Ylva. He wanted to hear her voice, know that she was okay.
‘What’s going on?’ she said.
Anxious.
There was no way she was going to let him drag more crap into their lives. That was what she really wanted to say.
‘I don’t know,’ he said.
‘Is there a connection? Between what happened yesterday, and this?’
Was there?
The police didn’t seem to think so.
Peder was trying to stay out of the police investigation; he knew he didn’t belong there any more. But if he had still been a serving officer, if he had been a part of Alex’s new team… He would have slammed his fist down on the table.
Because he was convinced the cases were linked.
When he had finished talking to Ylva, he went into the room that had been designated as his office. The security team at the Solomon Community had conducted a parallel interview of their own with everyone who had witnessed the murder of the pre-school teacher after the police had spoken to them. Interview was probably the wrong word; the community didn’t have that kind of authority. But they had talked to the three parents who had been standing next to Josephine, and to the people who had been passing by at the time. They hadn’t spoken to the children.
Peder read through their notes, but found nothing useful.
Frustrated, he went through the material the team had put together, but couldn’t find what he was looking for. How could the community find out what the murder weapon was? Or any details about distance and the trajectory of the bullet? Or if there were any suspects among the victim’s circle of acquaintances?
Actually the media had answered the last question; as usual they had been fed by leaks from within the police. Josephine’s boyfriend had a string of convictions for serious crimes. Peder guessed that the police would conclude that she had been dragged into some kind of transaction, either willingly or under duress, and had ended up as a victim of organised crime.
Peder didn’t agree.
This crime was spectacular. Cocky. As daring as picking up two boys in a car and driving off with them.
What was the best way to proceed? Would he be able to persuade Alex that it was essential for him to sit in on some of their briefings? He needed access to their investigation if he was going to get anywhere.