Hidden in Snow (The ?re Murders, #1)(33)
“Do you know she was in her first year at high school when Sara was in her final year?”
Sara is Ida’s younger sister; she is training to be a hairdresser in Sundsvall, just as their mother, Elisabeth, once did. Elisabeth now owns a salon in J?rpen.
A piercing yell splits the air from the living room, where Alice was sleeping in her buggy. This is the time when the colic usually kicks in, but every evening they hope it won’t happen.
Ida looks at Daniel, her eyes full of gentle warmth. “I’ll take care of Alice,” she says. “You go.”
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32
The parking lot at the police station is almost full when Daniel arrives in his silver-gray Kia Sportage. The wind grabs the car door as soon as he opens it, and he fights his way to the main entrance through the swirling snow.
Anton is coming toward him along the corridor. He looks stressed and is wearing plastic gloves, as if he has just been handling evidence.
Daniel’s pulse quickens.
“Come with me,” Anton says without stopping.
The large conference room has been turned into a temporary hub. Pictures of Amanda are displayed on a notice board, along with the photo of the rest stop where her scarf was found. However, something else catches Daniel’s attention.
Several items of clothing are laid out on the table. A black padded jacket with a hood, a pair of dark-colored jeans, white socks. Light-brown UGG boots, a bright-yellow crop top.
He immediately understands what this means. “You’ve found Amanda’s clothes!”
Anton nods, pulls out a chair. “We were incredibly lucky,” he says, bouncing slightly on his seat and brimming with excitement.
Daniel takes the chair opposite his colleague. “What happened?”
“A local guy called us an hour ago. He was out on the mountain on his snowmobile despite the bad weather. When he was on the trail north of Ull?dalen, he spotted a plastic bag pushed into a crevice. He thought it might contain food scraps and didn’t want animals to spread them, so he stopped and took the bag with the intention of throwing it in the trash when he got home. He happened to open it and found the clothes.”
Anton is right—it’s an unbelievable stroke of luck.
Exactly what they need right now.
Daniel puts on a pair of plastic gloves and picks up the jeans to take a closer look. “How did he know there was a connection with Amanda’s disappearance?”
“He’d seen the appeal Missing People posted on Facebook, with Amanda’s description. It was the yellow top that made him call us.”
Missing People.
Daniel was uneasy about their involvement, but now he’s grateful. The organization has a reach that official police channels can’t compete with. He’s also pleased that Amanda was wearing such an easily recognizable bright-yellow top when she went missing.
He examines each item carefully. Nothing seems to have been ripped, which means the clothes probably weren’t removed with force. Not even a button is missing.
“Any sign of violence?” he asks. “Any traces of blood?”
Anton shakes his head.
“How about semen?”
Even if they don’t know whether a man or a woman is behind the possible abduction, statistically it is more likely to be a man. Of all crimes involving a threat to life, eighty-five percent are committed by men.
“Nothing visible to the naked eye, but we can’t be sure until forensics has checked everything.”
The absence of blood and semen is good; it means that in the best-case scenario, the girl hasn’t been injured.
Daniel stares at the clothes. Something is missing.
“No bra or panties—weren’t they there?”
“No.”
The thought of a perpetrator making a young girl strip half-naked is chilling.
“What kind of bag was everything in?”
“An ordinary plastic grocery bag,” Anton replies. “We’re sending it off to forensics as well—there might be fingerprints or DNA.”
Daniel thinks out loud. “Why did someone try to hide her clothes? What does that mean?”
Raffe has just come into the room. “At least it proves that she didn’t run away. She would hardly have hidden them in such an odd place.”
Daniel nods. “Any sign of her phone?”
“No.”
“The location must be significant,” Daniel muses. “Who hides something by a snowmobile trail?”
“A person who’s out on the mountain anyway?” Anton suggests. “Traveling by snowmobile?”
“Someone who’s used to the mountains, then.”
Anton nods.
“Someone local,” Daniel goes on. “Who else would it be?”
“If so, that’s terrible!”
Anton seems to take the idea personally. He is a local patriot who would never willingly set foot in a big city.
“I’m wondering if the perp might have dropped Amanda off somewhere and disposed of the bag on his way back,”
Raffe says. “He—or she—maybe wanted to get rid of it before going home, in order to reduce the risk of discovery.”
“Sounds reasonable,” Anton says.
“In which case he or she must have a family of their own; otherwise it would be irrelevant,” Daniel counters. He walks around the table to study the clothes from a different angle. They are in small sizes. Amanda isn’t very tall, only five foot four. She would have no chance against an adult, especially a man.