The Hidden Child by Camilla Läckberg Read Free Book Online Page B

could run the show. And he shouldn’t have taken Maja anywhere near a crime scene.
    At that instant he realized that there was one more detail Erica didn’t know about. He felt a nervous twitch on his face as he swallowed hard and added:
    ‘It turned out to be murder, by the way.’
    ‘Murder!’ Erica’s voice rose to falsetto. ‘It’s not enough that you take Maja to a house where a body was discovered – it turns out to be homicide.’ She shook her head. The rest of the words she wanted to say seemed to have stuck in her throat.
    ‘I won’t do it ever again.’ Patrik threw out his hands. ‘The team will just have to solve the case on their own. I’m on leave until January, and they know that. I’m going to devote myself one hundred per cent to Maja. Word of honour!’
    ‘You better mean that,’ snarled Erica. She was so angry that she wanted to lean across the table and shake him. Then curiosity overcame her:
    ‘Where did it happen? Have they found out who the victim was?’
    ‘I’ve no idea. It was a big white house a few hundred metres down the road on the left-hand side, on the first turnoff to the right after the mill.’
    Erica gave him a strange look. Then she said, ‘A big white house with grey trim?’
    Patrik thought for a moment and then nodded. ‘Yes, I think that’s right. It said “Frankel” on the letter box.’
    ‘I know who lives there. Axel and Erik Frankel. You know, the Erik Frankel that I went to see about the Nazi medal.’
    Patrik looked at her, dumbstruck. How could he have forgotten that? Frankel wasn’t exactly the most common name in Sweden.
    From the living room they could hear Maja babbling happily.
    It was late afternoon by the time they finally made it back to the station. Torbjörn Ruud, head of the crime tech division, and his team had arrived, made a thorough job of it, and then left. The body had also been removed and was on its way to the forensics lab where it would undergo every imaginable and unimaginable examination.
    ‘Well, that was a hell of a Monday,’ said Mellberg with a sigh as Gösta parked the car.
    ‘Sure was,’ said Gösta, never one to waste words.
    As they entered the station, Mellberg barely had time to register something approaching at high speed before a shaggy form jumped on him and he felt a wet tongue licking his face.
    ‘Hey! Hey! Cut that out!’ Mellberg pushed the dog away in disgust. Ears drooping, the disappointed animal shambled over to Annika, knowing that at least there he would be welcome.
    Gösta fought the urge to laugh as Mellberg wiped off the dog spit with the back of his hand and fussily restored his comb-over to its rightful place, muttering irritably all the while.
    Shoulders heaving with mirth, Gösta was turning into his office when the cry of ‘Ernst! Ernst! Come here, now!’ stopped him in his tracks. It had been quite a while since his colleague Ernst Lundgren had been given the axe, and there’d been no talk of him returning to the force.
    Gösta stepped out into the corridor and saw Mellberg, his face beet red, pointing at something on the floor. ‘Ernst, what’s this?’
    As the dog slunk into view, head hanging with shame, Mellberg bellowed for Annika, who arrived a moment later.
    ‘Oops, it looks like we’ve had a little accident here.’ She cast a sympathetic look at the dog, who gratefully moved closer to her.
    ‘A little accident? Ernst has shit on my floor.’
    ‘What’s going on?’ asked Martin, entering with Paula close behind.
    Gösta, who by this time had completely lost the battle to contain his laughter, could barely get out the words: ‘Ernst . . . has shit on the floor.’
    Martin looked from the little pile on Mellberg’s floor to the dog pressed close to Annika’s leg. ‘Don’t tell me you named the dog Ernst?’ he said, and then he too dissolved into giggles.
    ‘All right, all right,’ said Mellberg. ‘Get this cleaned up, Annika, so we can all go back to work.’ He