The Double Silence (Andas Knutas 7)

to enhance the images. Damn it, he thought. Just when he was starting to feel a glimmer of hope. He doubted whether they would ever catch Vera Petrov, who, to the great embarrassment of the police, had managed to slip through their clutches a couple of years ago. With help from Karin, he thought bitterly. What a fine deputy superintendent she was. He gave a start when the object of his ill-humoured thoughts stuck her head in the door.
    ‘Hi. Are you working?’
    ‘Yes. Those photographs from the Dominican Republic came in. You know, the ones that supposedly show Petrov and her husband. But they’re totally worthless. See for yourself.’
    He handed her the photos.
    ‘That’s too bad,’ said Karin. ‘You can’t really see anything.’
    Her expression was inscrutable. Knutas couldn’t tell whether she was relieved or disappointed.
    ‘It looks like we’re back at square one. By the way, what are you doing here on a Saturday?’
    Karin sighed and sat down in the visitor’s chair.
    ‘I’m feeling so restless. I keep thinking about Lydia and what I shoulddo. I’m just too antsy to stay at home. I was thinking of tackling some of the piles of old paperwork that I’ve got lying around. Just to get my mind on to something else.’
    ‘Sure,’ said Knutas, nodding. ‘So what are you going to do? About Lydia?’
    ‘I want to find her, and I’ve done some investigating about how to proceed.’ Jacobsson bit her lip and fell silent for a moment. ‘It’s actually pretty simple. I talked to the Adoption Centre, and to social services here in Visby, and they all say the same thing. Since Lydia is over eighteen, there’s nothing to stop me from seeking her out. Actually, I could have done it sooner, but they usually recommend that biological parents wait to make contact until the child is no longer a minor. It can be a sensitive issue, and it’s not certain that her adoptive parents would have told her about the situation – I mean, that she was adopted. So essentially, I’m free to make my move, as they say. All I have to do is phone the tax authorities to find out what I need to know. Her name, where she lives, and who her adoptive parents are …’ Her voice faded away.
    ‘Why are you hesitating?’
    ‘To be quite honest, Anders, I’m scared out of my wits. What if she doesn’t want anything to do with me? And as I said, she might not have a clue that she was adopted. Even though the woman at the Adoption Centre and the person at social services said they recommend that adoptive parents do that. Tell the children, I mean. But of course it’s their decision. It’s different if the child is from China or somewhere like that; then it’s a lot more obvious. But Lydia is a hundred per cent Swedish. No one would be able to tell from her appearance, and maybe her parents wanted to protect her from the truth. I mean, she could have contacted me herself, but she never has, even though she’s nearly twenty-five. So I’m thinking that she doesn’t know. Don’t you agree?’
    ‘Maybe. There might be another reason. Maybe she hasn’t tried to find you out of concern for her adoptive parents. It’s possible that they would be upset.’
    Knutas had put down the photos and was studying his colleague intently. He had complete sympathy for the anguish she was going through.
    ‘And I’m wondering what would happen afterwards,’ Karin went on. ‘If I do find out who she is, what’s the next step? Should I just call her up and say: “Hi, it’s your mother”? That won’t work. Should I write her a letter? Or should I just go over and ring the doorbell? When I think that far, I get terrified, panic-stricken. What if she doesn’t want to see me? What if she pushes me away? Asks me why I’ve turned up now after all these years, when I never cared about her before – at least in her eyes. At the moment I can at least dream about us meeting and having a good relationship.’ Karin buried her face in her hands. ‘I don’t know whether I dare, Anders. But what if I never see her again in my life? That would be the worst of all.’

THE FOREST OUT here was more dense and impenetrable than he had thought. He had planned to take a short cut to avoid being seen, but it had turned out to be more difficult than he’d counted on. Annoyed, he fought his way through the thickets, pushing branches aside as best he could and trying not to stumble over the uneven ground, the tree roots, the old underbrush and the