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‘Heck, this is big! Three search warrants in one go, it’s not every day you get to be in on setting up a big operation like that,’ he said, so elated that Fredrika started wondering if he’d taken something to get so high.

‘A child has died,’ she said instead, her voice a monotone. ‘Pardon me for not joining in with your transports of delight.’

And she walked out of Peder’s room to find her new workmate.

Peder wondered initially whether he ought to go after Fredrika and give her a good dressing down. Who the hell was she to tell him he was out of order?

Then he stopped himself. Fredrika was right, at least about this being a murder enquiry. But she was the one not respecting the fact, not him. Well he wasn’t going to sink to her level. And he certainly wasn’t going to let her spoil his good mood. If he could survive his talk with Ylva, or strictly speaking from Ylva, then he wasn’t going to let some stupid colleague get the better of him.

Peder shuddered at the memory of Ylva’s call. She had been furious, to put it mildly, and it didn’t help that none of his fellow officers who she had rung during the night had been able to tell her where he was. Ylva had considered reporting him missing. Peder was deeply grateful that she hadn’t, but had fallen asleep on the sofa instead. He had promised they would talk properly when he got home, but also told her about the latest developments in the missing child case. He was likely to be late home tonight, as well.

He found it rather hard to admit it, but Ylva had been really shaken to hear that the girl had been murdered, and had immediately mellowed towards him. Suddenly she was a lot more understanding about his job. But unfortunately she still didn’t sound as though she quite believed he’d been working all night. He would have to learn to lie better, that was all there was to it. Or give up his sessions with Pia Nordh. He didn’t honestly think he could manage either of those things, but there was never any harm in having ambitions.

Jimmy rang and wanted to talk. He was worried and anxious. He was going on a cookery course with the other people from his assisted living unit and wanted to know if Peder thought it would go all right.

‘Of course it will!’ said Peder in that extra positive tone he always used for talking to his brother. ‘You can do anything, you know!’

‘You sure?’ asked Jimmy, still not entirely convinced.

‘Sure,’ echoed Peder.

Then the pictures came flooding into his mind again. From a time when everything had been different, when Jimmy had dared and Peder had been the scared one.

‘I can swing as high as anything, Pedda! I can swing higher than anybody else!’

‘Don’t believe you, don’t believe you!’

‘Yes I can, Pedda, I can swing highest in the whole street!’

If Jimmy had been able to grow up undamaged, thought Peder, would he have turned out the stronger of the two of them? Or would he have got softer over time?

Peder turned his attention back to his job. He knew Jimmy was the only person in the whole world he had never let down in his adult life. On the other hand, there was no one else to whom he owed so much. And maybe no one else he loved so unreservedly.

He had almost all the basic data in place for the examining magistrate. A couple of little details, and then it would be ready. Once he had dropped off his new colleague at the SatCom place, he would follow Fredrika out to Sebastiansson’s mother’s house. It wasn’t every day you got the chance to rummage about in a real-live rich man’s mansion.

Thoughts were circulating more smoothly in Peder’s head now a few hours had passed since his brutal awakening. He had drunk loads of fluid and taken more Panadol. He debated whether he should drive himself to the various search premises. Probably not. But then who would check on a policeman on his way to execute a search warrant? Who could be so unlucky? Not Peder Rydh, anyway. He was convinced of that.

Ellen Lind was very upset. She had always expected Lilian Sebastiansson to be returned to her mother in the long run, and now they knew she had been murdered, Ellen was badly shaken. She tried to ring her lover on his mobile, even though he had not been very nice the day before, but all she got was his voicemail.

‘You’re through to Carl. Please leave a message after the tone and I’ll get back to you as soon as I can.’

Ellen sighed. Maybe they could see each other for a while later in the evening? There was little likelihood of getting hold of a babysitter at such short notice, but some day there would have to be an end to all this hassle. She needed him. And she wanted to feel she had a right to feel that way. She wanted to feel it was okay – sometimes – to need him. Was that too much to ask?

She left him a voicemail message and could not stop herself crying as she explained what had happened. That poor girl, just lying there outside the hospital. Naked, on her back, in the rain.

Ellen stared blankly at her computer screen. She hardly knew what she was supposed to be doing. She was speechless with admiration at the sight of Peder and Fredrika dashing up and down the corridor, always caught up in some new stage of the investigation.

Alex had left clear instructions for Ellen by telephone before he set off for Umeå: she was not to say a word about the developments in the Lilian case until the girl’s mother had formally identified her. Under no circumstances was she to go into any detail. She was definitely not to say anything about the child being scalped, or about the child pornography found on the computer of the dead girl’s father. Ellen had been following the online news outlets and had seen that the discovery of the child was the top story on every paper’s website.

Mats, the National Crime Squad analyst, broke into Ellen’s reverie with a knock at her door.

‘Sorry to butt in,’ he began politely.

Ellen smiled.

‘No problem, I was just sitting… thinking.’

Mats gave a tight little smile.

‘Peder said something about us having the go-ahead from the examining magistrate on intercepts for Gabriel. Do you know anything about that?’

When Ellen didn’t reply at once, Mats clarified:

‘Wiretapping and phone records.’

Ellen gave a curt little laugh.

‘Thanks, I know what you mean.’

She went on:

‘It always takes an hour or so before the listening gets underway; you can ask the technical department if you want the exact timings. And then Tele2 was going to send us the logs of calls from Gabriel’s mobile for the past two years, but I don’t know when we can expect those.’

‘I got them an hour ago,’ Mats interrupted her. ‘I’ve checked the activity of his phone in the past few days. Since the child was taken he’s only made three calls, longish ones: one to his mother, one to a lawyer and one international number I haven’t been able to trace. All I can see is that the prefix is the one for Switzerland. And he’s had a few incoming texts.’

Ellen stared at him in surprise.

‘Switzerland?’

Mats nodded.

‘Yes, but I don’t know who to, as I said. And if his mother’s still claiming not to have seen him in the past few days, she’s lying. I’ve checked the mobile phone mast records. Gabriel Sebastiansson’s phone has been active in the vicinity of his parents’ home several times since Tuesday. Right up to six this morning, in fact.’

Ellen whistled.

‘Things are really hotting up,’ she said thoughtfully.

‘They certainly are,’ said Mats.

Fredrika drove far too fast to the Sebastiansson family home. This time she did not ring to announce in advance that she was coming. And when she arrived, she did not wait for Teodora Sebastiansson’s finger to show her where to park. Instead she skidded to a halt right outside the house and was out of the car almost before it came to a complete stop. She took the steps up to the front door in three strides and rang twice on the doorbell. When she heard nothing, she rang again. A moment later, she heard someone fumbling with the lock inside and the door slid open.