‘Sure. But we can’t frisk everybody. That’s just how it is.’
He shrugged again and went back to work.
Johan finished his beer and left.
Outside it was just as lively as inside. Teenagers stood around smoking. A bunch of boys were laughing loudly as they tossed around a beer bottle. One young couple was wrapped in a tight embrace, kissing and not caring who saw them. And a little girl sat a short distance away, her head in her hands. She looked as if she wasn’t feeling well. Johan sat down next to her.
‘How’s it going?’
Cautiously he placed a hand on her thin shoulder. When she looked up, he gave a start. The girl wore dramatic make-up but she didn’t look older than twelve or thirteen. Her eyes were half-closed, and her face was very pale.
‘I feel sick.’
She didn’t manage to say anything more before she threw up. He helped her clean herself up. She started crying, and he did his best to console her.
‘What’s your name?’
‘Pernilla.’
‘Where do you live?’
‘Hemse.’
Good Lord, thought Johan. What kind of parents would let a young girl like this stay out late at night so far from home? And, to cap it all, drunk. He searched her jacket pockets and pulled out a mobile that showed several missed calls from her mother. He rang the number. He heard loud music in the background and a laughing woman’s voice answered.
‘Hello?’
‘Hi, my name is Johan Berg, and I’m sitting here with your daughter, Pernilla.’
‘Yes?’
‘We’re in Visby, and I’m sorry to tell you that your daughter is extremely drunk.’
The voice now sounded worried.
‘What? Are you sure?’
‘It would be best if you came to get her. She can’t make it home on her own.’
Now he heard several agitated voices in the background.
After a minute the woman was back on the line.
‘OK, my husband is coming. Where are you?’
Johan gave her directions to the Solo Club.
The girl threw up a few more times. She had no idea where her friends had gone. When Johan asked her how old she was, she said she was twelve. Good Lord, he thought. That means she’s just a year older than Emma’s daughter Sara. Is Sara going to be sitting here like this a year from now?
He stayed for almost an hour, helping Pernilla vomit up all the alcohol she’d consumed. Finally a car pulled up and parked. A man his own age got out, dressed in jeans and a shirt, looking stressed. Right behind him was a very pregnant woman. She was the one who had driven the car.
‘Oh, sweetie,’ cried the man, taking the girl in his arms. ‘How are you feeling? Come on, let’s get you home. Where are Agnes and Mimmi?’
He got her into the car as he continued to ask questions. He briefly thanked Johan for his help before they sped away.
Feeling depressed, Johan walked back through town to the office. He pictured Sara’s sweet, innocent face. She had already started to use make-up once in a while. Was this what awaited her, right around the corner? He shuddered at the thought. At the same time, it seemed disturbing that the partying at the Solo Club was going on as usual, only a day after Alexander Almlöv had died.
Exactly as if the assault had never happened.
SHE WAS AWAKENED by a fit of coughing. A suffocating smell. Her eyes were running. She immediately jumped out of bed, realizing to her horror that she was surrounded by thick smoke. When she went to bed, she had deliberately closed the bedroom door since she had nearly scared herself silly imagining that someone was outside.