“There’s nothing to indicate that. All her belongings are still at home,” replied Knutas impatiently. Why couldn’t Johan Berg ever be satisfied with the same information he gave to all the other journalists? He never gave up asking more questions.
“The fact that her bike was found tossed aside could mean that she got into a car. Was it found near a road?”
“That’s right. I have to go now.”
“I realize that you’ve got your hands full, what with the murder investigation, too. Is there anything to indicate she might have fallen into the hands of the same perpetrator as Dahlstrom?”
“Not at the moment.”
Knutas shook his head as he put down the phone. What a stubborn man that journalist was.
The next second the phone rang again. The switchboard told him that a woman from the youth clinic in Visby wanted to talk to him. He told the operator to put her through.
“Hi, my name is Gunvor Andersson, and I’m a midwife. The girl that I think you’re looking for was here recently.”
“Is that right? How do you know it was her?”
“I recognized her from the description on the radio. She was here several months ago, asking for birth control pills.”
“Did she say why?”
“She said that she had a steady boyfriend. I asked her whether she really felt old enough to have intercourse. I said that we usually don’t recommend the Pill for such young girls. She said that they had already done it. I told her that since she’s under fifteen, it’s a crime to have sexual intercourse with her. On the other hand, we can’t very well refuse to give the Pill to a girl who wants to protect herself. We usually require a parent’s consent in the case of such young girls, but when I said that I would have to call her mother, she didn’t want anything more to do with us. She just got up and left. I tried to stop her, to say that we could talk about it, but before I knew it, she had walked right out the door.”
“Did you find out who her boyfriend was?”
“No, unfortunately. She refused to say anything about him.”
After Knutas finished talking to the woman, he called Majvor Jansson.
“Did you know that Fanny has a boyfriend?”
“No, I’m sure she doesn’t.”
“She went to the youth clinic to ask for birth control pills.”
“What?”
“Yes, I’ve just talked to someone over there. She went there several months ago to get a prescription for the Pill, but when they told her that they would have to contact you, she left. I need you to think about this some more. Was there anything to indicate that she had a boyfriend? Was she spending time with anyone?”
There was a long silence on the other end of the line.
“She never said anything about it. But it’s hard to keep tabs on her, because I work nights and I’m a single mother. She could always meet someone in the evening, since that’s when I’m at work.”
Majvor Jansson was clearly about to start crying again.
“I was thinking of trying to get a different shift, now that she’s getting older. But I didn’t think there was any danger yet. She’s only fourteen, after all.”
In the meantime, the search continued. A hundred volunteers offered to help the search-and-rescue groups that had been organized at various sites. The sense of alarm about what had happened to Fanny was growing with every hour that passed.
At 8:00 p.m. the investigative team gathered for a meeting at police headquarters. The mood was tense. Knutas told them about his phone conversation with the woman from the youth clinic and Fanny’s failed attempt to obtain birth control pills. Sohlman, who looked worn out, told them about the results of searching Fanny’s room.
“We’ve found three packets of morning-after pills hidden among the clothes in Fanny’s closet. Two were empty; one still had both pills. That proves that she has had intercourse with someone.”
“It doesn’t take much detective work to come to that conclusion,” Jacobsson interjected acidly. “But morning-after pills? Aren’t they supposed to be used in extreme emergencies? Surely they’re not meant to be used for birth control?”
She glanced around the room. When she saw the blank expressions on the faces of her colleagues, she realized that she worked with a bunch of middle-aged men who had all been cast from the same mold and who probably knew nothing about how that sort of pill worked.
“How many pills did she take?” asked Jacobsson, turning to Sohlman.
“There are two in each package, and from what I understand, that counts as one dose. So she took four pills, or two doses.”
“Where do you get them? In a drugstore? Can a fourteen-year-old go out and buy them? Don’t you have to be at least fifteen?”
No one at the table could answer Jacobsson’s questions.
“All right,” she said with a sigh. “I’ll call the youth clinic.”
Her colleagues looked relieved to get out of hearing any more embarrassing questions that they couldn’t answer.
Sohlman went on. “Bloodstains and hairs that are not hers were found on the bedspread. They are short, dark, coarse hairs. In her bed we also found sperm and pubic hair, but we can’t say yet who they’re from. Everything has been sent to SCL. We also sent over some things that her mother didn’t recognize and couldn’t explain where Fanny had gotten them.”
He read from a list: “One bottle of perfume, one necklace, several rings, one sweater, one dress, and two pairs of underwear. Quite sophisticated underwear, I might add,” he said, clearing his throat. “We haven’t found anything of interest on her bike.”
When Sohlman fell silent, a heavy mood settled over the room. Their apprehension that Fanny was in trouble had been significantly reinforced by his report.
Wittberg broke the silence. “What the hell should we do?” he said with a resigned sigh. “What do we have to go on?”
“There’s plenty we can do,” Knutas objected. “While we wait for the lab results, we need to expand the search area. Tips have been coming in from the public, and they have to be processed.”
“How should we divide up the work between the Dahlstrom investigation and this case?” asked Norrby.
“We’ll work on them in tandem. We’ve done that before. Don’t forget that we don’t know what’s happened to Fanny Jansson. She might turn up tomorrow.”
When Johan came home from work on Wednesday evening, he found to his surprise that Emma was sitting on the steps. She looked pale and hollow-eyed, wearing her yellow quilted jacket.
“Emma, what are you doing here?” he exclaimed.
“I’m sorry that I was so mad yesterday, Johan. I just don’t know what to do.”
“Come inside.”
She followed him in and without a word sank down on the sofa.
“I’m about to lose my footing altogether. Olle still won’t let me talk to the children. I was thinking of going over to their school yesterday, but the school counselor advised me not to. She thinks that I should wait. I’ve talked to their teachers, and the children seem to be doing all right. The only thing they seem to know is that we’re going through a crisis, and that I’ve taken a leave of absence from my job.”
She pushed back her bangs. “Is it okay if I smoke?”
“Sure, go ahead and smoke. Do you want something to drink?”
“Yes, please. A glass of wine or a beer, if you have any.”
Johan took two beers out of the fridge and sat down next to her.
“What are you thinking of doing?”
“That’s exactly what I don’t know,” she said, sounding annoyed.
He touched her cheek.
“Have you quit your job?”
“I called in sick. Without giving any explanation. My job feels like the least important thing at the moment.”
“Olle will calm down. You’ll see. Don’t worry about that. After a while you’ll be able to talk to each other again.”
“I just don’t understand why he reacted so strongly. He’s shown so little interest in me and our relationship during the past few years. He really shouldn’t be surprised. But to hell with him. The only thing I can think about is Sara and Filip. You have no idea how tough this is.”