Hidden in snow the are m.., p.11
Hidden in Snow (The Åre Murders), page 11
If Amanda is in a cabin, they have an enormous task before them. She could be anywhere between Åre and the Norwegian border. Or even farther away. It is a vast area, impossible to search at night.
He tries to picture the scene, reluctantly acknowledges the logic behind keeping a victim in an isolated mountain cabin where no one can find her. Or hear her scream.
The perpetrator is using nature as a prison guard.
Amanda is completely at the mercy of her abductor.
33
Daniel is at his desk, trying to plan a search for the next morning. The weather is too bad to make a start during the night; they are going to have to wait until it’s light and the wind has hopefully dropped.
It is eight thirty in the evening when his phone rings.
“Lindskog.”
“Hi, Daniel,” says Bosse Lundh, the coordinator of Missing People. “How’s it going?”
“We’re doing our best.”
“It’s a shame we didn’t manage to track down Amanda this morning,” Bosse goes on. “I’d really hoped that we’d at least find some clues to help you out.”
“Mmm.” Daniel doesn’t have time for small talk. The team is due to meet again shortly, as soon as Anton has sourced a detailed map of the mountain, but he doesn’t want to seem rude. Bosse is dedicated, a real powerhouse who does a great deal for the area.
“We had so many volunteers,” Bosse says with warmth in his voice. “Over fifty people, out there searching in the cold. That’s community spirit for you. The fact that everyone wants to help makes me so proud.”
Anton sticks his head around the door and signals that he’s ready.
“Did you want anything in particular?” Daniel does his best not to sound curt.
“Oh yes—I’ve been in touch with our sister organization in Trondheim; that’s why I’m calling. They’d also like to get involved, if they can be of any use.”
Daniel thinks for a moment. It is no more than one hundred miles between Åre and Trondheim. They have decided to focus on Ullådalen to begin with, but they might well need to extend the search toward the border.
“Good to know. I’ll get back to you on that.”
Bosse sighs. “It’s hard to think about anything but Amanda right now. And her poor parents. Have you made any fresh discoveries?”
Daniel pictures Amanda’s clothes, laid out on the table. “I can’t go into detail, but we have found certain items of clothing.”
“Really? Surely that must be a good sign? It means she’s still alive!”
“Let’s hope so. I’d appreciate it if you’d keep this to yourself for the time being.”
“Of course. Where did you find them?”
“I’m afraid I can’t tell you that.”
“I understand. If you need people to search the area where you found the clothes, just let me know.”
Daniel considers the idea. They haven’t finished planning the search yet; there’s no point in Missing People deploying its volunteers prematurely.
“Leave it for now,” he says. “We need to do some work before we can decide where to continue searching. We’ll keep in touch.”
“Lots of people want to help,” Bosse assures him. “Just say the word and we’ll muster the troops!”
“Thank you,” Daniel says sincerely. “We really appreciate your input, but we do need a little time.”
The support is there, but he’s not sure he can risk sending out civilians in bad weather and on difficult terrain.
The last thing they need right now is for more people to disappear in the mountains.
34
Anton has found a large map showing the snowmobile trails between Duved and Åre. It is pinned on the wall in the conference room, and Daniel is standing in front of it, scrutinizing the area around Ullådalen.
It is to the west of Åreskutan—around the back of the mountain, so to speak. A popular destination for cross-country skiers, especially in the spring when the weather is milder and the evenings are light.
He pictures the undulating landscape with the now-frozen lake in the middle.
The valley is softly rounded, with low ridges and huge white expanses that sparkle in the sunshine. Here and there are groves of windblown mountain birch trees; higher up, the trees disappear, leaving only black low-growing shrubs that can barely break through the snow’s crust. Snow-covered hunting and fishing lodges are dotted around, painted in colors that have worn away over the decades. Sometimes only the chimney is sticking up above the deep snow. A snowmobile is essential transportation.
Ullådalen is one of the most beautiful areas in Åre, but right now it looks like a crime scene.
Raffe joins them with a large sheet of paper under one arm. His dark, shoulder-length hair is tied back in a ponytail, his shirt sleeves rolled up to the elbows.
“This is the property map from the Land Registration Authority for the region between Storlien and Järpen.”
He holds it up: a motley collection of dots, lines, and tiny squares indicating various buildings.
It’s like looking at a war between different colonies of ants.
Daniel sits down and rests his chin on his hands.
“Where do we start?” Anton says, as if he can read Daniel’s mind.
Raffe spreads the map out on the table and places a used coffee cup on each corner to stop it from rolling up.
“So we’re assuming that the perpetrator traveled by snowmobile, and we suspect that Amanda is being held in a cabin on the mountain,” Anton says. “We ought to be able to match the register of snowmobile owners with property owners in this area.”
“A hell of a lot of people in Åre have a snowmobile,” Raffe interrupts.
Daniel holds up his hand. “Let him finish.”
“Maybe, but it’s still a limited number,” Anton continues. “And even fewer own land outside the population centers.”
He picks up a pen and draws a large circle with Ullådalen in the middle.
Daniel understands.
The search zone is more limited than it looks, because the cabin is not likely near any of the plowed roads or the perpetrator wouldn’t use a snowmobile. He probably also lives within a reasonable radius of the cabin; otherwise it would be too far to travel back and forth.
They should be able to limit the search even further by concentrating on the area west of Åreskutan, since Amanda’s clothes were found in Ullådalen.
Anton folds his arms. “What about the coffee kiosks in Ullådalen? We need to talk to the staff, check if they’ve seen anything.”
Anton grew up in Åre, so he knows the place like the back of his hand.
“What are you thinking of?” Daniel asks.
“Tväråstugan Ski Lodge, to begin with. Then there’s Lillåstugan’s waffle café. We should also speak to the staff at Buustamon Fjällgård Hotel, just to be on the safe side.”
He places a cross on the map by Tväråstugan. It is deep in the valley, just north of Ullådalen ski lift, and has no connections by road. Daniel remembers skiing past it several times back in the spring. It is in a stunning location, with its own waterfall at the foot of Åreskutan.
Anton marks Lillåstugan with another cross. It is closer to Tegefjäll and the E14, above the spot known as Ängarna. It also lacks road access but is easier to get to. Finally, he adds a cross for Buustamon, by Rödkullen.
Then he goes over to the map on the wall, the one showing the snowmobile trails. He marks the same three locations, then draws a large circle not far from Tväråstugan.
“This is where the bag of clothes was found,” he says.
It’s all becoming clearer now.
The trail runs through the northern section of Ullådalen. Amanda’s clothes were hidden south of the trail and diagonally to the east of the Tväråstugan conference center.
Daniel can breathe more easily. There is a starting point where they can begin their search. Staff who may have vital information.
Could they be in luck?
“We need to bring in Mountain Rescue,” he says. “And a helicopter with a thermal-imaging camera.”
“What about Missing People?” Raffe wonders.
“They could do more harm than good,” Anton comments.
Daniel thinks about his recent conversation with Bosse Lundh. “We’ll leave them out of it for now.”
Bosse ought to understand—at least Daniel hopes so. It’s one thing to have civilians searching along the E14 and close to populated areas, but it’s quite another to send them out onto the mountain in ice-cold temperatures.
He looks out of the window at the swirling snow.
“Anyone checked the weather forecast for the next twelve hours?”
Raffe nods. “It’s not great. Strong winds and minus twenty, just like yesterday. And it’s going to continue snowing.”
Difficult conditions for the helicopter, but it can’t be helped; they can’t afford to wait.
“We start searching at first light.”
Amanda is no longer freezing cold.
Her body is numb. Even the intermittent shivering has stopped. Now her muscles are sluggish, as if they belong to someone else.
Her heart is beating slowly; her breathing is shallow.
Amanda is lying on the mattress, dreaming.
She sees Mom and Dad in front of her, with Mimi and Kalle. She reaches out to embrace them, but like shadow figures they vanish every time.
She can’t get a hold of anyone.
“Give me a hug,” she murmurs, trying to put her arms around her little brother, but he slips away just like the others.
She can see Ludde, but she can’t hear him barking.
Why was she so cold earlier on? She can’t remember; she just knows that she isn’t cold anymore.
Breathing isn’t easy, but she is not afraid, just very, very sleepy.
She folds back the coverlet and the other mattress; she doesn’t need them anymore.
For the first time since she woke up in the cabin, she is warm.
All she wants is to go on sleeping.
SUNDAY, DECEMBER 15
35
The sound of the front door being opened and closed with a little bang wakes Hanna. It is only seven o’clock in the morning.
She found it difficult to get to sleep again last night; she lay awake brooding over Christian’s crushing betrayal for hours.
Now she is wide awake, her pulse racing. Someone else is in the house. She hears footsteps that stop for a few seconds, then continue.
Something isn’t right.
Hanna holds her breath. It’s unlikely that a burglar would have access to the keycode for the front door, but she still feels uneasy. She pulls on a robe and pads barefoot up the stairs to the hallway.
As she reaches the top step, she hears a crash and a scream.
A dark-haired young woman with high cheekbones and narrow eyes is standing in front of the cleaning cupboard. A vacuum cleaner is lying upside down on the floor, with the hose beside it like a writhing snake.
Hanna and the woman stare at each other. Hanna pulls herself together first. “Who are you?”
“So sorry!” The woman looks panic stricken as she sees that a couple of bottles of cleaning fluid have also fallen out of the cupboard. The top has come off one of them, and the thick liquid is seeping out onto the stone floor. The sight seems to terrify her.
Hanna gently touches her arm. “It’s fine. Don’t worry about it. We can wipe it up.”
The woman begins to cry. Her fear is entirely disproportionate—anyone can knock over a vacuum cleaner or spill some detergent.
“It really is fine,” Hanna repeats. “What’s your name?” When the woman doesn’t respond to the question in Swedish, she tries English instead.
“Zuhra,” the woman says without looking at Hanna. Her lower lip is still trembling. “Sorry!”
Hanna fetches a roll of kitchen paper, cleans up the mess, and throws the used paper in the trash can.
Zuhra still seems terrified.
“Would you like a coffee?” Hanna asks, sticking to English.
When Zuhra doesn’t answer, Hanna leads her into the kitchen and settles her down at the table. She quickly inserts a capsule in the Nespresso machine and fixes her a coffee.
“Milk?”
Zuhra shakes her head.
Hanna takes the chair opposite her. She seems very young—no more than eighteen or nineteen.
“Where are you from?”
“Uzbekistan.”
“Have you been in Sweden for long?”
Zuhra makes a gesture that is impossible to interpret. She still looks scared.
“There’s nothing to worry about,” Hanna assures her. “It was an accident—no harm done.”
Silence. Zuhra fingers her cup. Her nails are bitten very short, and her lips haven’t stopped trembling. She is almost motionless, as if she’s not sure whether she’s allowed to move.
“No people home,” she blurts out eventually. “I clean every other week, house empty.”
Now it all makes sense. Hanna tries to explain that her sister has lent her the house at short notice and presumably forgot to inform Zuhra’s employer that Hanna would be here for a few weeks.
Hanna isn’t surprised that Lydia has a cleaner. It’s typical of her to make sure the place is spotless regardless of whether the family is there. However, she can’t quite see why Zuhra is so agitated. Could this be a cash-in-hand arrangement, off the books so to speak? It’s hard to believe that Lydia would do such a thing. She is a well-known lawyer; her reputation is worth far more than a few thousand saved on cleaning costs.
Zuhra has finished her coffee. “I clean now?” she says, getting up a little too quickly.
“Of course. I’ll keep out of your way.”
The only response is a nervous nod. It’s hard to tell whether Zuhra understands. She scuttles back to the cleaning cupboard, and Hanna hears her assembling the vacuum cleaner.
As Hanna heads for the shower, she can’t shake off her unease. That terrified expression in Zuhra’s eyes, the way she cowers as if she is afraid of being struck.
The girl’s reaction makes Hanna think of other women she has met during the course of her work as a police officer.
Frightened women who are abused by their partners.
36
Afterward Daniel will always remember exactly where he was when the news came in.
The team has gathered in the conference room to plan the search. Two men from Mountain Rescue are there, along with a woman from the Local Defense Volunteers with her gray hair tied back in a high ponytail. Raffe, Anton, and Daniel are seated at the top of the table.
The map they used yesterday evening is spread out in front of them.
Östersund is linked via Zoom. Birgitta Grip is sitting to the right on the screen. There is no mistaking the concern on her lined face as she listens to the briefing.
The gravity of the situation is clear in the tone of the meeting. No one interrupts, and the sarcastic quips that are sometimes used to lighten the atmosphere are notable by their absence.
Everyone is totally focused as they discuss the best approach.
They have been working for just over an hour. The meeting is due to end shortly, at nine thirty, as soon as it is light enough outside to facilitate the search. They have two helicopters with thermal-imaging cameras, plus a significant number of snowmobiles. It has been decided that Anton and Raffe will join the search while Daniel remains at the station.
The weather forecast is marginally on their side. It is still snowing, and the wind is strong up on Åreskutan, but it has died down enough to allow the helicopters to fly.
Daniel desperately hopes that they have chosen the right area. He has been up since six and has already drunk three cups of coffee. He got five hours’ sleep last night; Ida and Alice were fast asleep both when he arrived home and when he left.
“Did you manage to speak to the staff at Tväråstugan?” Birgitta asks, after listening carefully to Daniel’s summary.
“Dead end,” Anton replies. “The place was closed over Lucia.”
It was the same with Lillåstugan, which doesn’t open for the season until December 26. They will talk to the staff at Buustamon later today, but they’ve already had a chat with the maître d’, who hadn’t seen anything unusual.
They have just gone through the final details when Daniel sees a woman in civilian clothing enter the conference room in Östersund. She interrupts discreetly by tapping Birgitta on the shoulder, and they conduct a whispered conversation.
Birgitta’s tense jawline doesn’t bode well. This is bad news, Daniel can feel it.
What’s going on?
Birgitta turns back to the camera. She sighs deeply, runs a hand over her forehead.
“Dispatch has just received an emergency call in your area,” she informs her colleagues in Åre. “A chairlift attendant has found a dead body on VM6. You need to get over there right away.”
Daniel stands up with such force that he knocks his chair over.
It has to be Amanda—who else could it be?
37
It takes only a few minutes to drive from the police station on Kurortsvägen to the chairlift on Kabinebanvägen, and yet the trip seems to last an eternity. Daniel’s head is buzzing with questions as Anton drives as fast as he dares on the treacherous road surface.
Why would Amanda be found in such a strange place? Could it be someone else? If so, who?
It was a boy who called it in, but he was so shaken that it was impossible to conduct a sensible conversation. He just kept repeating that there was a dead body on the lift.
The windshield wipers are laboring by the time they skid into the parking lot, followed by two squad cars. Daniel flings open the door and begins to run through the snow, up the hill toward the large red station alongside the VM6 chairlift.
He takes in the scene through a curtain of whirling snow.
The lift isn’t moving, but one of the chairs has stopped at the turning point. There is some kind of bundle on the ground below.
