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

feeding, carrying, playing with Maja and then putting her down for a nap? She loved her daughter, but she had a desperate need for some respite from the responsibility. To rediscover what it was to be a grown-up and do grown-up things – exactly the way Patrik had been able to during the whole year that she’d been home with Maja.
    No sooner did she put Maja down in the cot than she clambered back up, even more furious.
    ‘You need to sleep now,’ said Erica, backing out of the room and closing the door. Anger surging in her chest, she picked up the phone and punched in the number for Patrik’s mobile, pressing the buttons a little too hard. She heard the first ringtone and then gave a start when she realized it was coming from downstairs. Patrik’s mobile was on the kitchen counter.
    ‘Bloody hell!’ She slammed down the receiver, angry tears welling up in her eyes. She took a couple of deep breaths and told herself it wasn’t the end of the world if she had to jump in for a little while, even though it might feel like it. She realized this whole thing was about the fact that she felt unable to let go, unable to trust Patrik with the baton she had passed him.
    But there was nothing she could do about it. And the most important thing was not to take out her feelings on Maja. It wasn’t her fault, after all. Erica took another deep breath and went back to her daughter’s room. Maja was wailing, her face bright red. And an unmistakable odour had started to spread through the room. The mystery was solved. That was why Maja didn’t want to sleep. Feeling a bit guilty and extremely inadequate, Erica tenderly picked up her daughter and comforted her, pressing the little downy head against her breast. ‘There, there, sweetie, Mamma is going to change the nasty nappy. There, there.’ Maja sniffled as she pressed closer. Downstairs in the kitchen, Patrik’s mobile was ringing shrilly.
    ‘It feels . . . creepy.’ Martin was still standing in the entry hall, listening to the sounds characteristic of all old houses. Small creaks and squeaks, faint sounds of protest when the wind picked up.
    Gösta nodded. There was definitely something creepy about the atmosphere in this house, but he thought it was because they knew what had happened here, rather than anything inherent in the house itself.
    ‘So you said Torbjörn’s given the all-clear to go in, right?’ Martin turned to look at Gösta.
    ‘Yes, Forensics are done with the place.’ Gösta nodded his head towards the library, where traces of fingerprint powder were clearly visible. Black, sooty particles that disturbed the image of an otherwise beautiful room.
    ‘Okay, then.’ Martin wiped his shoes on the doormat and headed for the library. ‘Shall we start in here?’
    ‘Might as well,’ said Gösta with a sigh.
    ‘I’ll take the desk while you go through the file folders and ring binders.’
    ‘Sure.’ Gösta sighed again, but Martin paid no attention. Gösta always sighed when confronted with an assignment.
    Martin cautiously approached the big desk. It was a huge piece of furniture made of dark wood, ornately carved, that looked as if it belonged in some English manor house. The desktop was very neat, with only a pen and a box of paper clips, aligned in perfect symmetry. A little blood had stained a notepad that was covered in scribbles, and Martin leaned closer to see what had been scrawled there. ‘ Ignoto militi ’ it said over and over. The words meant nothing to him. He carefully began pulling out one desk drawer after another, methodically going through the contents. Nothing piqued his interest. The only thing he could tell was that Erik and his brother seemed to have shared the work area, and they also seemed to share a fondness for neatness and order.
    ‘Doesn’t this border on the obsessive?’ Gösta held up a binder and showed Martin the neatly arranged documents inside, complete with a table of contents on which Erik and Axel had