really. Three wise men looking down at the sleeping child. But the child was Rebecka Martinsson and the men Assistant Chief Prosecutor Carl von Post, the lawyer Måns Wenngren and Inspector Sven-Erik Stålnacke.
“She’s killed three people,” said von Post. “I can’t just let her go.”
“It’s a textbook example of self-defense,” said Måns Wenngren. “Surely you can see that? Besides which, she’s the hero of the hour. Believe me, the newspapers are already busy cooking up a real Modesty Blaise story. Saved two children, killed all the bad guys… You need to ask yourself what role you want to play. The heap of shit who goes after her and tries to put her behind bars? Or the nice guy who gets to join in and share the glory?”
The assistant chief prosecutor’s gaze flickered away. Flew to Sven-Erik, where there was no support to be had, not even the smallest stick to lean on. Wandered back to the yellow hospital blanket, neatly tucked in under Rebecka’s mattress.
“We had thought we’d try to keep the media out of it,” he said tentatively. “I mean, the dead pastors had families. A certain amount of consideration…”
Beneath his moustache Sven-Erik Stålnacke sucked air in through his teeth.
“It’s going to be difficult to keep the press and TV out of it,” said Måns casually. “The truth has a way of leaking out somehow.”
Von Post fastened his coat.
“All right, but she’s got to be interrogated. She’s going nowhere until then.”
“Of course. As soon as the doctors say she’s up to it. Anything else?”
“Call me when she’s ready to be interviewed,” said von Post to Sven-Erik, and disappeared through the door.
Sven-Erik Stålnacke took off his padded jacket.
“I’ll go and sit in the corridor,” he said. “Let me know when she wakes up. There’s something I want to say to her. I was thinking of getting a coffee and a snack from the machine. Can I get you anything?”
Rebecka woke up. In less than a minute a doctor was leaning over her. Big nose and big hands. Broad back. Looked like a black-smith in disguise in his white coat. He asked how she was feeling. She didn’t reply. Behind him stood a nurse with a caring and not too broad smile on her face. Måns by the window. Looking out, although he couldn’t possibly see anything other than a reflection of himself and the room behind him. Fiddled with the blind. Closed, opened. Closed, opened.
“You’ve gone through quite an ordeal,” said the doctor. “Both physically and mentally. Sister Marie here is going to give you something to calm you down, and a little more pain relief if you need it.”
The last remark was a question, but she didn’t answer. The doctor got up, nodding to the nurse.
The injection worked after a while. She could breathe normally without it hurting.
Måns sat down by the bed and looked at her in silence.
“Thirsty,” she whispered.
“You’re not allowed to drink properly yet. You’re getting what you need through the drip, but just wait a while.”
He got up. She brushed his hand.
“Don’t be angry,” she croaked.
“Don’t start,” he said as he walked toward the door. “I’m bloody furious.”
After a while he came back with two white plastic cups. In one of them was water so that she could rinse her mouth. In the other two ice cubes.
“You’re allowed to suck these,” he said, rattling the ice cubes. “There’s a policeman here who wants to talk to you. Are you up to it?”
She nodded.
Måns waved Sven-Erik in, and he sat down by her bed.
“The girls?” she asked.
“They’re fine,” said Sven-Erik. “We got to the cabin quite soon after… after it was all over.”
“How?”
“We went into Curt Bäckström’s apartment and realized we had to find you. We can talk about all that later, but we found a number of rather unpleasant things. In his refrigerator and freezer, among other places. So we went to the house in Kurravaara, the address you’d given the police. But there was nobody there. We actually broke in. Then we went to the nearest neighbor.”
“Sivving.”
“He was able to lead us to the cabin. The eldest girl told us what happened.”
"But the girls are all right?"
“Definitely. Sara’s cheek was frostbitten. She’d been outside trying to start the snowmobile.”
Rebecka whimpered. “But I told her.”
“It’s nothing serious. They’re here in the hospital with their mother.”
Rebecka closed her eyes.
“I want to see the girls.”
Sven-Erik rubbed his chin and looked at Måns. Måns shrugged his shoulders.
“She did save their lives after all.”
“Okay,” said Sven-Erik. “We’ll have a