‘This email account has only ever been used to send emails to you. It has been accessed from three different IP addresses.’
‘Norwegian, please,’ Curry yawned.
‘IP addresses. Internet protocol addresses. Each device connected to the Internet has its own address, which tells you where it is. Country, region, broadband supplier.’
‘Its exact location?’ Munch said.
‘Yes.’ Gabriel nodded, looking down at his iPad again. ‘Like I said, it was accessed from three different addresses. All Burger King outlets, in Karl Johan, Ullevål Stadium and Oslo Central Station. Using a laptop. Impossible to trace, to be honest. I have pinged it, but there’s no reply, so I guess it’s not connected any more; the user probably tossed it. That’s what I would have done.’
‘You can get the Internet at Burger King?’ Curry said.
‘We’ve received just under two thousand calls,’ Anette said, ignoring her tired colleague. ‘Most of them regarding the photofit of the woman from Skullerud. I’m sorry to have to tell you this, but so far we have not received anything useful. The photofit is too vague, it could be anyone. As for the reward – well, you know how this goes. You wouldn’t believe how many people fancy having a million kroner and think their neighbour looks a bit suspicious.’
Munch combed his hand through his beard.
‘Offenders with a similar MO?’
Kyrre just shook his head.
‘Dammit, come on, people! We must have something! Someone must have seen something! Heard something!’
Mia gave Munch a hard stare. Calm down. Although this was a tight-knit team, she knew there would always be some who were keen to further their careers. She imagined Mikkelson had a hotline to several of them.
She cleared her throat and got up. Walked up to the board to divert attention from Munch.
‘I don’t know if everyone is aware of what we know so far, so let me go over it again. Not everything is proved; some things are just ideas in my head, hunches, and I need your help with them. Tell me what you think, believe, feel. No suggestion is too stupid. Everything is useful, OK?’
Mia looked around the room. They were quiet now. Everyone’s eyes were on her.
‘This is the story as I see it. In 2006, someone takes a baby from Hønefoss Hospital. There are two main reasons to take a baby. One reason is blackmail, but no demands have ever been made, so we’ll ignore that. The second reason is that somebody wants a baby. That’s what I believe. Somebody wants a baby. I’ve thought all along or, perhaps, felt it rather, that the killer is female. A woman wants a baby. Let’s imagine the following scenario. This woman has access to the maternity ward. As we have seen, and saw back then, it’s frightening how much easier it is to steal a baby than you would think. Especially a baby with no parents. Right, so this woman steals a baby. There’s outrage, obviously; everyone starts looking for the baby – the media, us, everyone. No one can withstand that much pressure. The woman finds a scapegoat, Joachim Wicklund. Very conveniently, he goes and hangs himself. Very convenient for us. The autopsy report tells us nothing, because no post-mortem was ever carried out. Wicklund hanged himself. He confessed. Case closed. Everyone can move on.’
She drew breath and drank some of her Farris. She hadn’t planned what she was going to say; she was talking just as much to herself as to the rest of the team.
‘It occurs to me now that if we had carried out a full post-mortem there’s a good chance that we would have found a needle mark in Wicklund’s neck. Very convenient and clever, isn’t it? An overdose in the neck, right under the rope, very hard to spot unless there was suspicion of foul play. Well, that’s one theory. So we have a woman. With a baby. Who knows how to perform injections. Who has access to drugs.’
‘A nurse?’ Ludvig suggested.
‘A definite possibility.’ Mia nodded and went on. ‘But we found no suspects among the nurses at Hønefoss. So, we have a woman who has stolen a baby. And everything is fine. The media is no longer writing about the kidnapping. We have given up. Then something goes wrong. Maybe the baby dies. Baby dies and she decides to come after us. It’s our fault that the baby died. We should have found her. We should have found the baby. And Munch is responsible. So she decides to come after Munch.’
She cleared her throat and took another sip of her mineral water. The room had gone very quiet now. Everyone knew Mia was good at this. No one wanted to interrupt her now that she was in full flow.
‘This woman is incredibly clever,’ Mia continued. ‘Bordering on schizophrenic, possibly. She thinks it’s acceptable to steal a child and has no problem with killing. It feels morally right for her, so this woman must have experienced something, something…’
She struggled to find the words.
‘Yes, I don’t know what exactly, but it could have been any number of things. She’s logical and yet not seeing straight at the same time. Or, at least, she doesn’t see the world the way we do. She loved the baby, who is now dead. Perhaps. The baby was due to start school in the autumn. Now the baby is dead. I think that’s how she sees it. ìI’m travelling alone.î The sign. The girls are going on a journey. Yes, it’s a journey. Mark 10:14. ìSuffer the little children to come unto me.î The girls are travelling to heaven.’
Mia was increasingly talking to herself. Her knotted thoughts began to unravel, all the things that had lain concealed in the shadows of her mind.
‘This woman is incredibly caring. She loves children. She wants to protect them. She washes them and gets them ready. It’s not going to hurt. Now, two things.’
Mia coughed slightly. She felt exhausted, but she had to go on.
‘Two things. This was what confused me to begin with. The chaos, the symbols… I didn’t see at first, so many traps and hints, and yes, well, I didn’t see initially, but I think we’re dealing with two separate issues. One is the girls. She doesn’t want the baby to be alone. That’s it, that’s it. It was her fault that the baby died. She was responsible. She wants to make amends. Find some friends for the baby. But that was our mistake. We should have stopped her. Damn, I’m losing my train of thought here.’
‘Two things,’ Curry prompted her gently.
‘Yes, thank you. Two things. Number one: she kills the girls so that the baby, who is now six years old, won’t have to be alone. In heaven. Number two: she wants to get Munch. Sorry, it was obvious all along. But that’s why it was so muddled to begin with. That’s why we made such a mess of it. We need to look at everything from both of those angles, even though she’s mixing two motives to confuse us. Number one: she kills the girls so that the girl she stole won’t have to be alone in heaven. Number two: she wants to get her own back on the police. Take revenge. Get Munch. Somehow, she killed the baby, but she blames Munch. I think…’
Mia Krüger was completely exhausted now. She was barely able to talk.
‘What do you think, Mia?’ Munch said to support her.
‘She wants to be caught,’ Anette said.
‘What do you mean?’ Munch said.
‘She wants to be caught,’ Anette continued. ‘She shows us what she’s doing. Toni J. W. Smith. The girls at the Fort. Calling the journalists. She wants to be caught, doesn’t she, Mia?’
Mia nodded.
‘I agree. Good thinking. She wants to be stopped. She’s almost reckless. She’s revealing more and more to us. Because she’s going up there, too. To heaven. To be with her baby again. She’s going to be…’
Mia was unable to go on. She collapsed, exhausted, on the table, gasping for breath. Munch went up to her and put his hand on her shoulder.
‘Are you all right?’
Mia nodded slowly.
‘This is starting to make sense,’ Munch said, turning to the team. ‘Bloody brilliant. A woman. I believe it. I can see it. So which women have we already considered?’