What had gotten into him? She tried to hold back the fear that shot up inside her, and she made an effort to act normal. It didn’t help much. He grabbed her by the hair and forced her down on her knees.
“We’re going to play dog and master. You’re so fond of dogs, aren’t you? You can be Spot. Is Spot hungry? Does Spot want a treat?”
As he talked he used his free hand to unbutton his pants, keeping a good grip on her hair with the other. She turned ice cold when she realized what he wanted. He pressed her hard against him. She felt nauseated but couldn’t get away.
After a while he seemed to lose his concentration for a moment. He loosened his grip and then she saw her opportunity. She tore herself away and managed to pull free. Quickly she got to her feet and staggered out to the hall. She yanked open the door and dashed out. A fierce wind struck her. It was pitch dark and icy cold. The sea was roaring in the dark. She ran toward the road but he came after her. He knocked her down and slapped her in the face. He hit her so hard that she almost passed out.
“You damn little whore,” he snarled. “Now I’m going to really let you have it.”
Again he took her by the hair and then dragged her across the yard. The ground was soaking wet, and the water seeped through her clothes as she was pulled after him on all fours. Holes were torn in her pants, her hands were scraped badly, and blood ran from her nose. The sound of her sobs was drowned out by the howling wind.
Fumbling, he pulled out the key to the little building. The door opened with a screech. Abruptly he shoved her into the dark.
TUESDAY, NOVEMBER 27
When Majvor Jansson came home to her apartment after working the night shift, she discovered that the dog had peed on the hall rug. He jumped up and whimpered when she opened the front door. His water bowl was empty. She could tell at once that something was wrong. The door to Fanny’s room stood wide open, and her bed had not been slept in. It was close to seven o’clock on this Tuesday morning, and it was clear that Fanny had not been in the apartment all night.
Majvor sat down on the sofa in the living room to think. Don’t panic, she told herself. What was it that Fanny was going to do yesterday? Probably go out to the stable after school. She was always over there lately. They hadn’t planned to see each other at home because Majvor had to go to work at five. That meant that Spot had been alone for fourteen hours! Anger bubbled up inside of her, but just as quickly it vanished. As she tried to gather her thoughts, a sense of uneasiness overtook her.
Fanny would never forget to come home if she knew that Spot was alone. Not of her own free will. Had she gone to a friend’s house to spend the night? The likelihood of that happening was minimal, but she started looking through the apartment to see if her daughter had left a note. What about a message on her cell phone? She hurried out to the hall and pulled her cell out of her coat pocket. Nothing there, either. Spot had finished eating and was now whining loudly. He needed to go out.
As she walked between the apartment buildings, Majvor wondered what other possibilities there might be. Was Fanny mad at her? No, she didn’t think so. They hadn’t had a fight in a long time. In her heart she was aware that she might not be the sort of mother that Fanny really needed, but she couldn’t help it. This was just how she was, and she didn’t have the energy to make changes. It wasn’t easy being a single mother.
Was this a sign of some kind of rebellion? Had Fanny run away with some friend that she didn’t know about? Or a boy? Majvor hurried home with the dog, who now seemed much happier. She started making phone calls.
An hour later she was still at a loss. None of their relatives or acquaintances could tell her where Fanny had gone. She called the school. She learned that Fanny wasn’t there, either. Anxiety was making her throat dry. She got out a bottle of wine and a glass. Something must have happened. What about the stable? Did she even have the phone number? A note with the number was stuck to the refrigerator. Fanny was always so organized. Majvor clutched the receiver tightly as she waited for someone to answer the phone.
“Hello,” said a gruff male voice after the tenth ring.
She introduced herself. “Yes, hi, this is Majvor Jansson, Fanny’s mother. Is Fanny there?”
As she spoke she realized that she didn’t know who she was talking to, or even what the place looked like. Fanny had been working at the stable for over a year, but Majvor had never set foot in the place. Why hadn’t she ever gone to visit? Now she cursed herself as it suddenly became crystal clear to her how little interest she had shown in her daughter. When was the last time she had helped Fanny with her homework? She didn’t dare even think about that.
“No, she’s not here,” replied the man, sounding friendly. “She was here yesterday afternoon. But shouldn’t she be in school right now?”
“She’s not there, and she didn’t come home last night, either.”
Now the man on the phone sounded uneasy. “That’s odd. Wait a minute,” he said, and she heard him put down the receiver, then the sound of voices in the background as he shouted to someone. After a moment he was back.
“No, unfortunately, no one has seen her. I’m sorry.”
A call to the hospital proved equally fruitless.
What about her room? Normally Majvor didn’t go in there, since she and Fanny had a mutual understanding that the room was her private space.
At first glance everything looked the same as usual. The bed was neatly made and a book lay on the nightstand, next to the alarm clock. On the desk was a jumble of pens, several schoolbooks, elastic bands for her hair, scraps of paper, and newspapers. Majvor rummaged among Fanny’s things, pulled out all the dresser drawers, then searched the bookshelf and the closet. She turned everything in the room upside down without finding any note with a message, or an address book or a phone number that might give her a clue about where Fanny had gone.
But hidden under several decorative pillows at the head of the bed she found what were obviously spots of blood on the reverse side of the bedspread. She tore off all the bedclothes. No blood on the sheet or the blanket, but under the bed she found a towel with more traces of blood. She was shaking all over as she punched in the phone number for the police.
As soon as he stepped inside, Knutas felt weighted down. He was glad that Sohlman had come with him. The whole apartment was depressing, with its cramped rooms and dreary colors. It was in a four-story building on Mastergatan in the Hoken district, in the north-eastern section of Visby and about half a mile outside the ring wall.
Majvor Jansson’s eyes were red from crying when she opened the door. Since Fanny was not with her father, either, the police were taking the report of her disappearance very seriously. The bloodstains on the bedspread meant that there was reason to suspect an assault or a rape. That’s why the police had decided to do a proper crime scene investigation of the girl’s room. Sohlman immediately got to work.
Knutas noticed a faint smell of liquor on Majvor Jansson’s breath.
“When did you last see Fanny?” he asked when they were sitting at the kitchen table.
“Yesterday morning. We had breakfast together before she left for school. I didn’t have to go to work until five, but she usually goes to the stable after school, so we rarely see each other in the afternoon.”
“How did she seem?”
“Tired. She’s always tired, especially lately. That’s probably because she doesn’t eat properly. She’s awfully thin.”
“What did you talk about?”
“Nothing special. There’s not much to talk about in the morning. She ate toast for breakfast, as usual. Then she left.”
“What was the mood like between the two of you?”
“Same as always,” replied Majvor flatly. At the same time she cast a pleading glance at Knutas, as if he might be able to tell her where her daughter was.