Halders tried to trip him as he walked past. His colleague responded with an internationally recognized gesture.

“You can shove that where the sun don’t shine,” said Halders with a smile, pointing at the star boy’s stick.

“That could be anywhere at all in this town,” mumbled Birgersson next to Halders. “At this time of the year.”

The procession continued along the corridor, singing Saaantaa Luuciiiia in keys unknown to musicologists, amplified by the acoustics of the tiled walls. Bergenhem held his hands over his ears.

“Did you know it was Lucia Day today?” asked Winter, turning to look at Birgersson.

“I’m the boss here, aren’t I? I know everything.”

“And now we’ll have to wait until next year,” said Aneta Djanali. “Another year before we can see anything like this again.”

“Maybe they’ll make you Lucia,” said Halders. “It would be modern and politically correct to have a black Lucia, don’t you think?”

“Yes, that has always been my dream. It would be a dream come true.”

“Besides, Lucia came from Africa,” said Halders.

“ Sicily,” said Djanali. “ Southern Italy.”

“Southern Europe, North Africa, what’s the difference?” said Halders.

“The coffee’s getting cold,” said Winter.

The candles were still burning on the table, but they had turned on the overhead light. Goodbye cozy atmosphere, Djanali thought.

“We’ll make another attempt to talk to the boy,” said Ringmar.

“How much does he understand?” said Halders. “He’s barely four years old.”

“According to his parents he speaks well,” said Ringmar. “Besides, he’s bilingual.”

“That’s more than you can say for us,” said Halders.

“Speak for yourself,” said Djanali.

“He’s still in a state of shock,” said Winter, “but they haven’t found any injuries to his head.”

Is this Halders we’re talking about? Bergenhem thought.

“His ability to move his limbs is improving, and he probably won’t suffer any permanent damage.” He looked up. “Physical damage, that is.”

“How’s your search through the records going?” asked Halders, looking at Möllerström.

“There are a lot of names,” said Möllerström. “Pedophiles, child abusers, other sex offenders, you know the types. It’s a long list.”

“Let’s go through it slowly and carefully,” said Winter.

“All we’ve come across so far are alibis,” said Bergenhem. “They all seem to be behaving themselves.”

“Any chance of more staff to help with the door-to-door?” Halders wondered.

“Possibly,” said Winter.

“What’s the matter with Birgersson?” said Halders. “This could have led to murder, for Christ’s sake. People living in the area might have seen the bloody lunatic when he picked up the boy.”

“For now we have to work with the resources we have,” said Winter.

“Why wasn’t the boy abused sexually?” asked Djanali. She looked around at her colleagues. “I’ve been asking myself that, you’ve been doing the same. He’s injured, but not in that way. Why? What does the man want? Why did he hurt the boy at all? Do these injuries mean something particular? Did he plan to do that from the start? Did something happen in the car? Had he actually intended to rape the boy? Why did he leave him like he did?”

“That’s a lot of questions,” said Halders.

“But all ones we have to ask ourselves,” said Djanali.

“Of course,” said Winter. “And it gets worse.” Everybody looked up. “Or maybe better. Listen to this. This is from the last twenty-four hours.”

He told them about the other children who had met this unknown mister. Ellen Sköld. Maja Bergort. And Kalle Skarin, the boy in Bengt Josefsson’s memo at the Härlanda police station.

“Hmm, what can you say to that?” said Halders.

“Anything at all,” said Winter. “We’re a team and this is all about team-work, and I want to hear your views now.”

“Is there actually a link between these three?” asked Halders, of nobody in particular.

“We don’t know yet,” said Winter. “We’ll have to speak to the children.”

Everybody looked at him.

“Do you really mean that?” asked Sara Helander.

“I’m not a hundred percent sure what I mean yet,” said Winter. “Let’s continue the discussion.”

“Links,” said Djanali. “We were talking about links. What could they be?”

“Three children, or four if you include young Waggoner. One difference: The other three were not abducted.”

“Why not?” asked Helander.

“He wasn’t ready yet,” said Halders. He looked at Ringmar and Winter on the other side of the table. “It’s basic psychology. The guy wasn’t ready the first few times. He was testing and maybe went a step further each time, and in the end he was up for it. But it is not necessarily anything sexual. Or maybe that will come later.”

“Instant analysis,” said Djanali.

“I’ll be proved right,” said Halders. He looked at Winter again. “Which means that he’s going to strike again. Fuck, fuck, fuck.” He shuddered. “And always assuming, of course, that we establish a connection. And that some of this did actually happen. Well, we know about the Waggoner boy. But what about the others? They might just have been telling stories.”

“They might have,” said Winter.

“Four small kids find their way into a weirdo’s car without anybody noticing? Is this credible?” wondered Sara Helander.

“Maybe he wasn’t what we normally call a weirdo,” said Halders. “Didn’t you hear my analysis?”

“But is it credible?” insisted Helander. “That none of the staff noticed anything?”

“What staff?” said Halders. “They don’t have any damn staff anymore,” said Halders. “That’s the way it is nowadays. Bigger and bigger groups of children, and less and less staff to take care of them.”

“So you’re suggesting that this actually could happen? That these kids could vanish, presto, just like that?”

“Absolutely.”

“I doubt it,” said Helander.

“I think you should take that doubt of yours to any playground you like where there are lots of kids running around, and take a second to think about how you might be able to kidnap one,” said Halders. “Or at least arrange a private meeting with one of them.”

“Are you being serious?”

“You’d be surprised, Sara. At how easy it is.”

“Shouldn’t we check out these places properly?” asked Bergenhem. “The children’s playgrounds and day nurseries or wherever it was that these things happened?” He looked at Winter. “Apart from Plikta, that is, where Simon was abducted.”

“That applies to Ellen Sköld as well,” said Winter. “According to her, it also happened at Plikta.”

Even as he said that Winter could picture Elsa’s face. His daughter on the swings, in the middle of the playground, next to the parking lot.

Would the man they were hunting be there now? Had he already been there twice and achieved what he wanted to do? Would it happen again? In the same place? It was possible. Possibly more than possible.

“Anyway,” said Bergenhem, “should we put some resources into it?”

“Yes,” said Winter, picturing Elsa’s face. “But I don’t know the best way to go about it yet. I’ll think it over, and have a word with Sture.”

“Do it now while Lucia is still on his mind,” said Halders, causing Sara Helander to giggle.

“Was that funny?” said Halders, with a surprised expression on his face.

“One other thing,” said Winter. “Three of the children lost something after meeting this man. Maja Bergort lost a ball.”

“Good God,” said Halders. “When don’t children lose balls?”

“Do you mind if I finish?”

Halders nodded and said nothing.

“Her favorite ball,” said Winter, “She always had it with her. Ellen Sköld had a little silver bird charm zipped into an overall pocket. Gone. And Simon Waggoner lost his watch.” He looked up. “All this is according to the parents.”