Camilla Läckberg: The Hidden Child

‘Bertil?’ Annika called urgently from the reception area. With a practised gesture, Mellberg pushed back the lock of hair that had slipped down from his nearly bald pate and reluctantly got up. There were very few females from whom he was willing to take orders, but Annika Jansson belonged to the exclusive club. Over the years he’d even developed a reluctant respect for her, and he couldn’t think of another woman of whom he could say that. The disastrous consequences of hiring that female officer last spring had only served to reinforce his view. And now they were going to have another woman join the team. He sighed again. Was it so hard to find male officers? Why did they insist on sending girls to replace Ernst Lundgren? It was a miserable situation.

He frowned when he heard a dog barking out in the reception area. Had Annika brought one of her dogs to work? She knew what he thought about mutts. He’d have to have a talk with her about that.

But it was not one of Annika’s Labradors paying a visit. Instead he was confronted by a mangy-looking mongrel of indeterminate colour and breed, tugging at a lead held by a short, dark-haired woman.

‘I found him outside the station,’ she said with a broad Stockholm accent.

‘So what’s he doing in here?’ asked Bertil crossly, turning to go back to his office.

‘This is Paula Morales,’ Annika hastened to say, prompting Mellberg to turn around again. Jesus. Now he remembered that the bird who was supposed to be joining had a Spanish-sounding name. She was certainly small. Short and slender. Although the gaze she fixed on him was anything but weak. She held out her hand.

‘Nice to meet you. The dog was running around loose outside. And judging by the shape he’s in, he doesn’t belong to anyone. At least not to anyone who’s capable of taking care of him.’

Her words had a demanding tone, and Bertil wondered what she had in mind.

‘Well, take him somewhere then.’

‘There isn’t any place for lost dogs. Annika already told me that.’

‘There isn’t?’ said Mellberg.

Annika shook her head.

‘So, I suppose you’ll just have to take him home with you then,’ he said, swatting away the dog, which was pressing itself against his trouser leg. Ignoring his efforts, the dog sat down on Mellberg’s right foot.

‘I can’t. We already have a dog, and she wouldn’t like a companion,’ replied Paula calmly, giving him the same penetrating stare.

‘So what about you, Annika? He could… keep company with your dogs, couldn’t he?’ said Mellberg, beginning to sound resigned. Why did he always have to deal with such trivial matters? He was the boss here, for God’s sake!

But Annika shook her head. ‘They’re not used to other dogs. It wouldn’t go down too well.’

‘You’ll have to take him,’ said Paula, handing the lead to Mellberg. Stunned by her boldness, he took the lead, and the dog reacted by pressing even harder against his leg and uttering a whimper.

‘See, he likes you,’ said Annika.

‘But I can’t… I can’t…’ Mellberg stammered.

‘You don’t have any other pets at home. I promise I’ll ask around to see if he belongs to anyone. Otherwise we’ll just have to find somebody to adopt him. We can’t let him out to run loose; he’ll get hit by a car.’

Against his will, Mellberg felt himself yielding. He looked down at the dog. The dog looked up at him, its eyes moist and plaintive.

‘Okay, okay, I’ll take the damn dog. But only for a couple of days. And you’re going to have to wash him off before I take him home.’ He shook his finger at Annika, who looked relieved.

‘No problem, I’ll give him a bath here at the station,’ she said eagerly. Then she added, ‘Thanks so much, Bertil.’

Mellberg grunted. ‘Just make sure that the next time I see that dog, he’s squeaky clean! Otherwise he’s not setting foot in my place!’

He stomped angrily down the corridor and slammed the door to his office behind him.

Annika and Paula smiled at each other. The dog whimpered and happily thumped his tail against the floor.

‘Have a good day,’ said Erica, waving at Maja, who ignored her mother. She was sitting on the floor in front of the TV, watching Teletubbies .

‘We’re going to have a cosy time together,’ said Patrik, giving Erica a kiss. ‘This little girl and I will be just fine for the next few months.’

‘You make it sound as if I’m going to be off sailing the seven seas,’ said Erica with a laugh. ‘But I’ll be coming downstairs for lunch.’

‘Do you think this will work out, you staying in the house to work?’

‘We can at least give it a try. Just pretend I’m not here.’

‘No problem. As soon as you close the door to your work-room, you no longer exist for me.’ Patrik gave her a wink.

‘Hmm. Well, we’ll see,’ replied Erica and headed upstairs. ‘But it’ll be worth it if I can avoid having to rent office space.’

She went into her workroom and closed the door with mixed feelings. In the twelve months she’d been at home taking care of Maja, she’d found herself longing for the day she could pass the baton to Patrik and devote herself to grown-up matters again. She’d grown sick and tired of playgrounds, sandboxes, and children’s TV programmes. Making the perfect sand pie didn’t exactly qualify as intellectual stimulation, and no matter how much she loved her daughter if she was forced to sing ‘Itsy-bitsy Spider’ one more time she’d go crazy. Now it was Patrik’s turn to look after the child.

With a certain feeling of reverence, Erica sat down in front of the computer, pressed the ‘on’ button, and listened with pleasure to the familiar hum. The deadline for the new book in her true crime series was February, but she’d already managed to do some of the research over the summer, so she felt ready to get started. She opened the Word document she’d dubbed ‘Elias’, since that was the name of the murderer’s first victim, and placed her fingers on the keyboard. A discreet knock on the door interrupted her.

‘Sorry for disturbing you…’ Patrik opened the door and peered at Erica from under the shock of hair that fell over his forehead ‘… but I was wondering where you put Maja’s zip suit.’

‘In the drier.’

Patrik nodded and closed the door.

Again she placed her fingers on the keyboard and took a deep breath. Another knock.

‘I’m sorry, I promise to leave you alone, but I just need to ask what sort of clothes Maja should wear today. It’s really chilly outside, but she always gets overheated, and then it might be easier for her to catch cold…’ Patrik smiled sheepishly.

‘All she needs is a thin shirt and trousers under the zip suit. And she usually wears the thin cotton cap.’

‘Thanks,’ said Patrik and shut the door again. Erica was just about to type the first sentence when she heard cries from downstairs. They quickly rose to a crescendo, and after listening for two minutes, she pushed back her chair and went downstairs.

‘I’ll give you a hand. It’s hopeless trying to get her dressed.’

‘Yeah, I can see that,’ said Patrik, sweat dripping from his brow after the struggle to shoehorn a complaining and resistant Maja into her outdoor clothing.

Five minutes later she was still sulky but fully dressed, and Erica gave both daughter and husband a kiss on the lips before she hustled them out the door.

‘Take a long walk so Mamma can have some peace and quiet to work,’ she said. Patrik looked embarrassed.

‘I’m sorry. I guess it will take a few days to get into the swing of things, but then you should have all the peace and quiet you want. I promise.’

‘That’ll be nice,’ said Erica and firmly closed the door after them. She poured herself a big mug of coffee and went back upstairs to her workroom. Finally she could get started.