ELLEN

8.30 A.M.

While the feature about the murder in Stentuna was being broadcast, Ellen sat down across from Steffo and Jenny at the table in the News Morning studio. They were laughing at a feature they’d done earlier about a foreign correspondent whose name Steffo had pronounced incorrectly.

The laughter was contagious, even though Ellen hadn’t even heard the mispronunciation.

She admired them for the way they succeeded in pairing heavy topics with cooking and fashion. Happiness and sorrow. She would never have been able to work on the couch that way. She got too involved and was far too bad at concealing her emotions and opinions. Philip always said that he would bet everything he owned if he was playing poker against her.

Jenny wiped away tears of laughter.

Philip’s assistant from Make-up came up and dabbed a little at her cheeks and under her eyes. Ellen also got a freshening up.

On the table in front of them, the day’s newspapers were spread around with headlines like:

THE CHILD-SUSPECT ANGLE

POLICE STILL SEARCHING FOR FATHER OF THE BABY

REFUGEE HOUSING IN STENTUNA VANDALISED

Ellen turned to the camera, feeling uncomfortable knowing that Jimmy was in the control room watching her.

‘Are you working full-time now?’

‘No, I have to go back to my mother’s this afternoon. I’m still on seventy-five per cent sick leave, and a teenager again, who’s had to move back to my childhood room,’ Ellen said, smiling to show that she had distance from the whole thing.

‘Yeah, I heard that. How are you doing?’

‘Things are okay, thanks.’ It was considerate of Jenny to ask, but Ellen didn’t get the feeling she wanted an honest answer. Mainly, they didn’t have time for one. She wished, deeply, that she could just be normal and not feel the way she did. It was unfair.

‘Ten seconds.’ The studio man started counting down as the report that Ellen and Andreas had made the day before concluded. The screens behind them changed colour and mimicked a kind of forest background.

‘We welcome our crime reporter Ellen Tamm, who is here with us to talk about the terrible tragedy that’s taken place in Stentuna. Ellen, it seems like there’s a lot of speculation about different scenarios?’ Jenny turned it over to Ellen.

‘It looks like the police are working from the basis of several different leads, and are still asking for tips from the general public. Perhaps someone has noticed something in the vicinity of the scene, seen someone acting strangely, or whatever. Any of that will be of great help.’

‘As I understand it, DNA has been found from the person believed to be the perpetrator,’ Steffo commented.

‘Yes, that’s right. But the DNA that was found on Liv isn’t in our registers.’

‘So the person in question has no previous convictions. What might the motive be?’

‘Motive doesn’t mean, of course, that it’s right, but that there is a logical connection,’ Ellen answered. ‘And it’s the lack of a logical connection that’s confusing it all. The police don’t know very much about Liv Lind, or whether she had any connection to Stentuna, either. There doesn’t seem to be anything to indicate that at the present time.’

‘According to reports, she was pregnant?’

‘Yes, but it’s not yet known who the father of the child was. It’s not known yet, either, what kind of relationship they had.’ She didn’t go into any more details. Took a gulp of water and hoped they would understand.

‘And is there also now speculation that children could be involved?’ asked Steffo.

‘That’s not something I’ve been able to confirm, but there are rumours that traces have been found from children or, rather, adolescents, in the vicinity of the crime scene, and that the police are now investigating that lead.’

‘People around there must be feeling anxious?’

‘Sure, no one wants their children to have been involved in something like this or to have seen something inappropriate. I’ve received information that a number of interviews have been held, which don’t seem to have led to anything concrete yet. Of course, it’s considerably more complicated to question children, but I want to emphasise that this is just one lead that the police are investigating and that there doesn’t need to be any substance to it whatsoever.’

‘How does this affect the children and the community?’

‘Summer ended with a murder, barricades, police, and journalists.’ Ellen straightened up in the chair. ‘Stentuna is a small community. It consists of single-family houses and farms, but also some apartment buildings. It looks idyllic when you pass by or stop to visit.’

‘Last night, a refugee centre was vandalised not far from the site of the murder,’ Jenny continued. ‘There have been rumours that the new arrivals had something to do with the murder, and that a gang was going to get even with the refugees. Others have had the same idea.’ She pointed at the headlines in one of the newspapers lying on the table.

‘Personally, I haven’t received any such indications from the police.’

‘So, a lot of different theories. What happens now?’

‘More people will be swabbed, and more interviews held.’

‘What happened in Stentuna is terrible, and we hope that the police will soon clear up what actually happened to Liv Lind. Thanks for coming in today, Ellen. We’ll now move on to something completely different. All of Sweden Bakes is premiering later today and we’ll be looking at a little teaser.’

Once the clip had started, Ellen stood up and excused herself. Her mike was removed, and she followed the stream of tired colleagues up the stairs to the editorial office on the third floor, which for some reason was also called the fourth floor. She was fascinated by the way everyone walked on the right side, no one daring to breach the norm and walk against the stream. That was a problem, she observed, but she stayed in line.

Before she had time to turn on her computer, Leif sat down on the chair beside her. ‘Sleep in late?’ He grinned. ‘Oh right, I forgot that you get to do exactly what you want.’

Ellen didn’t bother telling him that she’d just been on News Morning, which he should have been aware of because the program was being shown on almost every screen in the editorial office.

‘Ellen, a tip came in during the broadcast,’ one of the editors called. ‘Might be something to check out, I’ll forward it to you.’

‘Thanks,’ said Ellen, refreshing her inbox.

The tip was sent from someone who wanted to remain anonymous. She had to read it several times, because even though it was concise, the message was incoherent. She tried to dissect what it really wanted to say. It was sent from someone who claimed to know Liv, and this person said that Liv had been loose-living and involved in a number of violent situations. The sender encouraged them to look into her past to find out who Liv Lind really was.

It seemed genuine. Liv Lind had probably been abused even earlier, which had already occurred to Ellen.

‘Listen, I’ve put together a little information about the Bosängen family,’ said Agatha, who was sitting opposite. She took off her zebra-patterned glasses and let them hang around her neck. ‘Bosängen is a farm located twenty kilometres outside Karlstad. The family that owns it has the same surname as the farm, which has been in the family’s possession since the mid-seventeenth century. There are rumours that the family has lived in a kind of separate little community in which men have several wives. The tradition died out when the head of the family, Bengt Bosängen, died in 1976. Now his first wife, Eva Bosängen, lives at the farm, and the others have moved away.’

‘What did you say?’ said Leif.

‘Polygamy?’ Ellen thought feverishly.

‘Yes. I don’t know if it has any religious connotations,’ said Agatha.

‘And so Patrik is Bengt Bosängen’s son?’

‘Yes, according to the census registry.’