Ewert was standing next to him while they waited for someone to open the security lock from the inside. Sven thought of how differently his colleague reacted to the dead the mortuary. Ewert didn't seem to sense the presence of death. To him, the dead were just things. Before leaving, he would often lift the cloth, pinch some accessible body part and say something vaguely funny, as if to prove it beyond insult.
The medic had arrived at the other side of the glass door and was looking for his key-card. It was Ludvig Errfors, one of the most experienced guys here. Sven had time to tell himself that he was pleased that Errfors had been picked, because after all an autopsy on a child must be the hardest to do; they'd be less used to dissecting children. If any one of them was likely to have come across enough little bodies for the procedure to become routine, then this was the man.
Errfors found his card and the lock clicked open.
After the greetings, the pathologist asked about Lund. They told him there was no news. He shook his head and started speaking about the autopsies of the two dead girls in the Skarpholm cellar. It had been his case and he kept commenting on it, while he briskly led the way downstairs.
He was saying that he had never before seen such extreme violence towards children.
Then he stopped in mid-step, turning a very serious face up at them.
'That is, not until today.'
'Explain.'
'I recognise the type of violence. Lund's trademark.'
Bottom of the stairs, then a short corridor, first room on the right. That was where Errfors usually worked.
The dreaded trolley was there, right in the middle of the room. And now there was a smell, though not strong. The ventilation system hummed, steadily shifting volumes of air. If it hadn't been a mortuary, Sven would not have known that the smell came from a dead body.
They didn't have to put on sterile green gowns; Errfors was too experienced not to know when rules could be broken. He switched off all the lamps apart from the one over the trolley, its bright cone of light illuminating the stage in the darkened space.
'This is how I prefer it. No reflections from shiny surfaces to disturb the examination.'
They saw a child's face, looking peaceful, as if asleep; recognised Marie from her parents' photos.
Errfors was rummaging in a plastic case. He produced a pair of big black-rimmed glasses with magnifying lenses, and a couple of A4 sheets of paper.
'Now. She is less serene-looking under the cover.'
The room was silent, well sound-insulated; the rustling of bits of paper invaded their aural space.
'Traces of semen were found in her vagina and anus, and on her body. The perpetrator ejaculated over the body, before and also after death.'
He lifted the cover. Sven turned his face away. He could not bear to look.
'A hard object with a sharp point has been forcibly introduced into her vagina and caused severe internal haemorrhaging.'
As he listened carefully, Ewert observed the exposed body of the little girl. He sighed.
'He did exactly that last time.'
'The acts were more brutal then, but yes, you're right. The MO was the same.'
'Seems he used a curtain rail then.'
'Could be, but I haven't been able to identify the object. Only that it was hard and pointed.'
The pathologist produced the next sheet of paper.
'I have established the cause of death. A powerful blow, probably the edge of the criminal's hand, directed against the larynx.'
Ewert noted the big bruise across her throat. He turned to Sven, who was still looking away.
'Hold on, you.'
'I can't stand it.'
'No need. I'm doing the looking.'
'Thanks.'
'Still, you should note that we've got him.'
'We've got fuck all.'
'Not once we pick him up. He has ejaculated all over her. Just like last time, there's semen all over the place. And we've kept samples from last time. One DNA test will do the trick.'
She had been lying in the wood. In his mind, Sven saw Margareta and Rune Lantz, an elderly couple still in love, sitting together and holding hands while the tears trickled from their eyes, right through the interrogation. Hers had been worst, a silent flow every time she was forced to describe what she had seen.
Let's sit down here. This stone.
Yes.
I want to ask you questions here, with the place in view. Can you cope with that?
Yes.
I want to know what happened, right from the start.
May Rune stay with me?
Of course.
I don't know…
Please try.
I mean, I don't know if I can do this.
Try, for the sake of the little girl.
We take a walk, every evening. If it doesn't rain too much.
Here?
Yes.
Always the same way?
Often a little different. The way. To make a change.
What about this way?
It was the first time, I think. Isn't that right, Rune?
Let's keep this between the two of us now. Just you and me.
Well, I didn't remember it from before.
And why did you walk just here?
It happened because we heard the helicopter.
What about the helicopter?
I didn't like it. Unpleasant, it was. And then that policeman with his dog. We started to hurry and it seemed like a short cut.
What happened when you got here?
Do you have a paper tissue? Or a hanky?
I'm sorry. No.
Forgive me for bothering you.
Please, don't apologise.
We had been walking hand in hand. Then, by that fir tree, we let go.
Why?
It was big, blocking our way. We had to walk round it, on opposite sides.
What happened next?
I thought it was a toadstool. A bright red thing. I kicked it, not hard.
What was it?
A shoe. I realised once I'd kicked it that it was a shoe.
What did you do?
I waited until Rune came along. I just knew something was wrong.
How do you mean that you just knew?
Sometimes you feel things. This time everything was upsetting. The helicopters, the policeman and the dog. And then a shoe.
Tell me what you did. Exactly.
