Unspoken

used in extreme emergencies? Surely they’re not meant to be used for birth control?”
    She glanced around the room. When she saw the blank expressions on the faces of her colleagues, she realized that she worked with a bunch of middle-aged men who had all been cast from the same mold and who probably knew nothing about how that sort of pill worked.
    “How many pills did she take?” asked Jacobsson, turning to Sohlman.
    “There are two in each package, and from what I understand, that counts as one dose. So she took four pills, or two doses.”
    “Where do you get them? In a drugstore? Can a fourteen-year-old go out and buy them? Don’t you have to be at least fifteen?”
    No one at the table could answer Jacobsson’s questions.
    “All right,” she said with a sigh. “I’ll call the youth clinic.”
    Her colleagues looked relieved to get out of hearing any more embarrassing questions that they couldn’t answer.
    Sohlman went on. “Bloodstains and hairs that are not hers were found on the bedspread. They are short, dark, coarse hairs. In her bed we also found sperm and pubic hair, but we can’t say yet who they’re from. Everything has been sent to SCL. We also sent over some things that her mother didn’t recognize and couldn’t explain where Fanny had gotten them.”
    He read from a list: “One bottle of perfume, one necklace, several rings, one sweater, one dress, and two pairs of underwear. Quite sophisticated underwear, I might add,” he said, clearing his throat. “We haven’t found anything of interest on her bike.”
    When Sohlman fell silent, a heavy mood settled over the room. Their apprehension that Fanny was in trouble had been significantly reinforced by his report.
    Wittberg broke the silence. “What the hell should we do?” he said with a resigned sigh. “What do we have to go on?”
    “There’s plenty we can do,” Knutas objected. “While we wait for the lab results, we need to expand the search area. Tips have been coming in from the public, and they have to be processed.”
    “How should we divide up the work between the Dahlström investigation and this case?” asked Norrby.
    “We’ll work on them in tandem. We’ve done that before. Don’t forget that we don’t know what’s happened to Fanny Jansson. She might turn up tomorrow.”
    When Johan came home from work on Wednesday evening, he found to his surprise that Emma was sitting on the steps. She looked pale and hollow-eyed, wearing her yellow quilted jacket.
    “Emma, what are you doing here?” he exclaimed.
    “I’m sorry that I was so mad yesterday, Johan. I just don’t know what to do.”
    “Come inside.”
    She followed him in and without a word sank down on the sofa.
    “I’m about to lose my footing altogether. Olle still won’t let me talk to the children. I was thinking of going over to their school yesterday, but the school counselor advised me not to. She thinks that I should wait. I’ve talked to their teachers, and the children seem to be doing all right. The only thing they seem to know is that we’re going through a crisis, and that I’ve taken a leave of absence from my job.”
    She pushed back her bangs. “Is it okay if I smoke?”
    “Sure, go ahead and smoke. Do you want something to drink?”
    “Yes, please. A glass of wine or a beer, if you have any.”
    Johan took two beers out of the fridge and sat down next to her.
    “What are you thinking of doing?”
    “That’s exactly what I don’t know,” she said, sounding annoyed.
    He touched her cheek.
    “Have you quit your job?”
    “I called in sick. Without giving any explanation. My job feels like the least important thing at the moment.”
    “Olle will calm down. You’ll see. Don’t worry about that. After a while you’ll be able to talk to each other again.”
    “I just don’t understand why he reacted so strongly. He’s shown so little interest in me and our relationship during the past few years. He really shouldn’t be surprised. But to hell with him. The only thing I can think about is Sara and Filip. You have no idea how tough this is.”
    He reached out his hand and caressed her cheek.
    She grabbed his hand, kissed it, and put it on her breast. When he kissed her, the response was fierce. It was as if she were hungering for him, for physical contact, for solace. He wanted to transmit his own strength to her, to give her the energy she obviously needed. There was something disconsolate and desperate about the