32.

Linda's cheeks turn red as she looks at the symbol drawn in the grit in front of Joona's feet. The stylised scythe has already begun to be erased by the wind. She says nothing, but her forehead is shiny with sweat.

'Sorry, but I'm expecting a phone call,' Joona says, and stands up with the help of his stick.

Margot watches him limp off towards the steps of the Norra Latin School and pull out his mobile. She understands that he's left them alone to give her a chance to create a more intimate atmosphere between her and Linda Bergman.

'Linda,' she says, 'I'm going to find out what all this is about sooner or later, but I'd rather you told me.'

The young woman has dark-grey sweat marks under her arms now, as she slowly brushes the hair from her face.

'It's just a bit personal,' she says, licking her lips again.

'I appreciate that.'

'They call it saturnalia,' Linda says, looking down at the ground.

'Is that some sort of role-play?' Margot asks gently.

'No, it's an orgy,' Linda replies as steadily as she can.

'Group s.e.x?'

'Yes, although group s.e.x sounds like ... I don't know, it's not like some sort of tragic old swingers' club.' She smiles, embarra.s.sed.

'You seem to know what you're talking about,' Margot goes on.

'I went with Maria a few times,' she replies, shaking her head almost imperceptibly. 'I'm single, it was nothing funny, you didn't have to sleep with everyone just because you were there.'

'But isn't that the point?'

'I don't have any regrets about trying it ... but it's not exactly something I'm proud of either.'

'Tell me about the saturnalias,' Margot asks quietly.

'I don't know what to say,' Linda says, crossing her legs. 'I was carried along by Maria's ... I don't know, completely open att.i.tude about s.e.x. Well, I thought I was, anyway ...'

'Were you in love with her?'

'I did it for my own sake,' Linda said, without answering the question. 'To try something new, no obligation, to just let go and allow it to mean nothing but s.e.x.'

'I can understand that.' Margot smiles gently.

'The first time,' Linda says, giving Margot a dark look, 'your whole body just shakes ... You think, I can't be doing this. Several men at the same time ... and there are loads of drugs, and you have s.e.x with other girls and it goes on for hours ... it's mad.'

She looks over towards Joona and brushes the sweat from her top lip with her forefinger.

'But you stopped going,' Margot says.

'I'm not like Maria, I wanted to be with her, and I tried doing it her way ... and after a while I felt different, and brave and everything ... But after the third time I started to think a whole load of things, it wasn't like I regretted it ... more like: OK, why am I doing this? I don't have to feel ashamed, I'm allowed to do it ... but why?'

'That's a good question.'

'It was my decision to go, but it sort of wasn't on my terms ... I think I felt a bit exploited, in spite of all that.'

'Was that why you stopped?'

Linda rubs the end of her nose and says quietly: 'I'd had enough when it turned out that someone had filmed one of the saturnalias. You're not supposed to do that, no mobiles ... Maria called and told me, she was really angry, but it just made me worried, I felt like I was going to be sick ... The film clip was on a p.o.r.n site for amateur films, it was shaky and dark, but I could still see myself, and that wasn't exactly a great feeling, I can tell you.'

A few drops from the fountain reach them, and Linda turns away from the hazy sphere and shakes her head.

'I can't believe she's dead,' she whispers.

'These saturnalias how are they arranged?'

'It's two guys from stermalm, Filip and someone called Eugene ... It probably started out as them having parties where there was a lot of cocaine and Ecstasy ... And then there was spice, monkey dust, Spanish fly and all the rest of it ... and now it's been going on for at least two or three years ... There are maybe a couple of saturnalias every month ... exclusive, invite only.'

'Always on Sat.u.r.days?'

'You know where the English word Sat.u.r.day comes from?' Linda replies, looking her in the eye.

Margot nods, and Linda kicks at the ground again.

'I'd just like to say that I never took any drugs,' she says.

'Good for you,' Margot says neutrally.

'I drank too much champagne instead.' She smiles.

'Where do they take place?'

'When I was involved, they had a suite at the Birger Jarl Hotel ... All I remember is really weird, psychedelic rooms.'

'Tell me about the stud Maria had in her tongue.'

'Filip and Eugene gave studs to all the girls who belonged to the inner circle.'

'Did Maria want to leave as well? Do you know?'

'I don't think so ... well, I ...'

She falls silent and gathers her hair over one shoulder.

'What were you going to say?'

'Just that Filip fell in love with her, he wanted to see her on her own, didn't want her sleeping with other men. She just laughed ... That was what she was like, Maria.'

Margot pulls out a photograph of Susanna Kern.

'Do you recognise this woman? Take a good look.'

Linda looks at Susanna Kern's smiling face, her warm, light-brown eyes and glossy hair, and shakes her head.

'No,' she replies.

'Was she at the saturnalias?'

'I don't recognise her,' Linda says, getting to her feet.

Margot remains seated on the bench, thinking that they still haven't found a connection between the victims. They're dealing with a serial killer who stalks his victims, but they have no idea where he finds them, or how he chooses them.

33.

Madeleine Federer is walking with her mother along a path that cuts diagonally across Humlegrden. After school she went with her to play in St Jacob's Church. Jackie takes all the extra work she can get as an organist so that they can manage financially.

Now Madeleine is walking along next to her mother, talking and keeping an eye on the path even though she knows that her mum doesn't need help.

Her mother walks with one foot nudging the edge of the gra.s.s, so she can feel the plants against her leg and at the same time listen to the stick tapping the path.

A compressor starts to rumble outside the Royal Library, and powerful drills begin digging at the asphalt with rapid metallic thuds. The noise means that her mother loses her bearings and Madeleine takes hold of her arm.

They pa.s.s the playground with the spiral slide she used to love when she was younger; it smelled so good, of plastic and warm sand.

When they reach the street her mother thanks her for her help, and they carry on towards the pedestrian crossing.

Madeleine can hear how the tapping of the stick against the stone pavement sounds harder than it did on the tarmac, but she can't tell how it sounds when they pa.s.s a pole close to the edge of the road.

'It's just a momentary gap in the noise of the cars,' her mother explains, and stops.

As usual, she puts the tip of her stick over the edge of the pavement so that she'll be prepared for the change in height when the cars stop and the ticking sound from the traffic lights speeds up.

They cross, and walk along in front of a large yellow building when her mother turns towards an open garage door and clicks her tongue. A lot of people with visual impairments do this to listen to the echo and identify potential hazards.

Once they're home Jackie closes the door, locks it and engages the security chain. Madeleine hangs up her coat and watches her mum go into the living room without switching the light on, and put her music scores on the table.

Madeleine goes to her room, says h.e.l.lo to Hoggy, and just has time to change into some home clothes before she hears her mother's voice.

'Maddy?' she calls from her bedroom.

When Madeleine enters the brightly lit room she sees her mother standing in just her underwear, trying to close the curtains in front of the window. Just outside the window a pink child's bicycle is lying on the gra.s.s. The curtain has got caught in the door of the wardrobe, and her mother runs her fingers down the fabric and manages to pull it free before she turns round.

'Did you turn the light on in here?' she asks.

'No.'

'I mean this morning.'

'I don't think so,' she replies.

'You need to make sure we don't leave any lights on when we go out.'

'Sorry,' she says, although she really doesn't think she had done so.

Her mum reaches for the blue dressing-gown on the bed, her hands fumbling and locating it up near the pillow.

'Maybe Hoggy got scared of the dark and came in and turned the light on.'

'Maybe,' she says.

Her mum turns the flimsy dressing-gown the right way round, puts it on, then kneels down and cups Madeleine's face with both her hands.

'Are you the prettiest girl in the world? You are, I know you are.'

'Haven't you got any pupils today, Mum?'

'Only Erik.'

'Aren't you going to put some clothes on?'

'Thanks for the suggestion,' she says, wrapping the silk gown round her body.

'Put the silvery skirt on, that's nice.'

'You'll have to help me find something.'

Her mother has a colour reader, but always asks Madeleine if her clothes look right, if the colours match.

'Shall I go and get the post?'

'Bring it to the kitchen.'

Madeleine walks through the hall, and can smell damp earth and stinging nettles as she picks the post up from the floor in front of the door. Her mother is already sitting at the kitchen table when she comes in and stops next to her.

'Are there any love-letters?' Jackie asks, like she always does.