The doll had been crafted in the fifties and handed down from Liisa’s grandmother. And so Liisa had taken care, until now, when it had crossed time and many miles to reach her. Elea closed her eyes, tightening her fingers around the doll. She swiped away her tears, planting a kiss on the doll’s small wooden head before returning it to the bag. There would be no more tears. She needed to share this development with the team.
She stood, smoothing down her clothes as she regained her composure. She had a job to do.
Chapter 20
Liisa
Iscratch at the yucky stuff on my teeth. Johanna has taken my toothbrush as punishment, and I haven’t brushed my teeth in three days. I’ve been here for a week. At least I think it’s a week. I don’t own a watch or a calendar, so all the days feel the same. Apart from slaps from Johanna, I’ve not been hurt under this roof. In the morning we eat porridge with defrosted bilberries, and lunch is leftovers from the day before. For dinner we have fish or some kind of stew from whatever Mikael has hunted in the forest that day. Then he comes into my room and stares at me, like I’m a strange animal that he trapped in the woods and brought home. He’s not as excited as he was when he first brought me here. He’s a lot, lot quieter these days. No, not quiet. Dark and moody. Like when Christmas is over and you’ve unwrapped all your presents. Like when you’re bored of your Barbie and want to pull off its head. In the deadness of night when everything turns quiet, I stare at the white blobs of paint on the ceiling and think of where I went wrong.
I was walkinghome from school when it happened. My grandma was supposed to pick me up from the bus stop to take me the rest of the way home, but she was late. I hate waiting in the cold, so I started walking home. My coat wasn’t warm enough—I was supposed to get a new one for my birthday. Mum is careful with money, so presents are always things I need rather than want. I was distracted, thinking about my friends and the project we were working on in class. We were making a family tree, and I only had half the branches. I looked at my friends’ trees, with their parents, brothers, and sisters. Some of their branches were really full.
The road was quiet, like usual. That’s why the yellow car seemed so weird. Johanna was looking at the front tyre, but I didn’t know who she was then. Someone was sitting in the passenger side, and I realised it was a man—Mikael. I checked my watch and walked a little faster, hoping Grandmother would turn up soon. From the corner of my eye I watched Johanna staring at the tyre before she fixed her gaze on me. Mikael got out and looked up and down the road. He seemed nervous about something, but it was too late for me to cross over to the other side. The woman looked nice enough, and I told myself that theyhadprobably just broken down. But the tyre she was kicking wasn’t flat. I shoved my hands into my pockets and kept my head down as I walked. My nose was throbbing from the cold, and I remember wishing that I hadn’t forgotten my scarf.
It all happenedso fast.
Johanna was about the same age as my grandmother, but sturdier. She wore the same blue coat, and her hair was tied back in the same style. But her smile was so strange, as if someone had fixed it onto her like a Mr. Potato Head. Her eyes were cold and narrow. Nothing on her face matched. “I thought we had a flat tyre,” she said, in an accent that I couldn’t figure out. “Looks like I was wrong.” She rested her hands on her hips, staring me up and down. “Would you like a lift home? You shouldn’t be walking these roads at your age.”
Mikael was staring at me like he’d never seen another living person before. Sweat glistened on his forehead, despite the frost. He trudged towards me, the sound of his boots in the snow cutting through the quiet winter air. His hand was tucked in his pocket, and he moved in a strange way. I didn’t like Mikael at all.
“No, thank you.” I spoke politely but firmly as I walked past.
Then Johanna nodded her head. But not at me, at Mikael. Next thing, he was on me and something sharp and painful was jabbed into my back. My teeth clenched from the pain, which felt like fire under my skin. My legs stopped working and my backpack hit the snow. I remember my books spilling out, and Johanna shouting at Mikael to make it quick. I wasn’t able to scream, because I couldn’t breathe. My legs felt like rubber bands as I was dragged into the back of the car. Then the doors thudded shut and the car started perfectly fine. We were moving, being spun round in a circle before turning the other way.
And now I’mhere, stuck in this strange room with no way out. The air smells musty and I can hear water dripping somewhere. It’s cold and the darkness is scary. But not as scary as the people who took me. I heard Johanna talking today. She thought I was asleep. Mikael was complaining and I heard her say that I’ve had enough time to settle in. “Tomorrow,” she told Mikael. “Tomorrow we’ll tell her why she’s here.” Now I’m scared to go to sleep because I don’t want to know.
Chapter 21
Elea sat in the unmarked police car, Swann’s words still ringing in her ears. “No contact today, only light surveillance. Tomorrow make a softly-softly approach.”
There was no “softly-softly” in Elea’s eyes. When it came to criminals like Sienna and Ant Thompson, you went in hard or not at all. This evening it was not at all. It had taken two hours to get the necessary permission to sit outside the Thompsons’ address. To sit. Not to listen or take photos. Just to sit on her backside from the vantage point of a car that smelled like a pizza delivery van. This wasn’t surveillance, in Elea’s eyes. At the very least they should be camped out in an upstairs room of a nearby building with wide-lens cameras and officers ready to move at each end of the street. Actually, no, that should have happened after Phil Hobbs handed over his stepdaughter on a plate.
Swann had mapped out his reasoning. Sienna and Ant Thompson would be a lot more cautious once they knew the police had eyes on them. But although the couple’s car was on the drive, Elea had yet to catch sight of them. She tutted in disgust. This was the pits.
“You all right?” Mitch’s eyes creased in amusement from beneath his baseball cap.
“This is a total waste of time. We should go in there and—”
“And nothing,” Mitch interrupted. “Unless you want me to get the sack?”
“I’m only saying...” Elea stared across at the window of the two-bedroom mid-terraced house. “We’ve been sitting here for hours. What’s the likelihood of something happening tonight, given how long ago Hobbs spoke to them?”
“All the same, we stay put. Due diligence.”
Elea rolled her eyes. Silence fell as the temperature in the car dropped. She willed Ant and Sienna to come out. What did she expect to occur? For Chelsea Hobbs to make an appearance, ready to tell all? Such things happened only in the many fantasies she’d created in her mind. She had dealt with enough crimes over the years to know the lie of the land. Perps weren’t clever or calculating. They were of low intelligence and short-sighted. It always came down to the same things: money, sex, drugs, stupidity. But sometimes, just sometimes, Elea met her match. A thought rose in her mind, pushing all others aside. Half an hour, that’s all she required. There was no need for violence. She simply needed to talk to them before they called it a night.
“Why don’t you go home?” She threw Mitch her most persuasive smile. “It doesn’t take two of us to sit here.”
“And leave you to go full Bruce Willis? I don’t think so.”
Elea’s smile faded. “Who?”
“Bruce Willis,” Mitch stared at her, mystified. “Die Hard? The greatest movie ever made?”
“Never heard of him,” Elea lied. She wasn’t in the mood for banter when she was so close to discovering the truth.
Mitch snorted. “As if!” An empty beer can rattled down the road, which was littered with parked cars on either side. They had been lucky to find a space.
Elea groaned as an upstairs bedroom light came on. They weren’t seriously going to bed. At this hour? It was only 8 p.m.
