The Crow Girl

The look on Sofia’s face is mysterious. Her smile seems almost shy.

‘You’re very lovely,’ Jeanette says, relaxing in the awareness that she isn’t surprised Sofia is willing to help. When it comes to offering help, she never hesitates.

‘I presume Lundstr?m is no longer suspected of being the killer, seeing as you want a profile?’

Jeanette snorts. ‘Well, to start with, he’s dead, but when it comes down to it, I think he was basically just the scapegoat. What do you know about sexually motivated killers?’

‘You see? Straight to the point, no messing around. There are two types. Organised and chaotic. The organised ones often come from socially affluent backgrounds, at least superficially, and usually seem to be unlikely murderers. They plan their killings and leave few clues. They tie up and torture their victims before they kill them, and they seek out their victims in places where they themselves can’t be traced.’

‘And the other type?’

‘They’re the chaotic sexual killers. Often they come from difficult backgrounds and carry out their killings randomly. Sometimes they even know their victims. Do you remember the Vampire?’

‘No, not off the top of my head.’

‘He killed his two stepsisters and finished up by drinking their blood. I think he even ate …’ Sofia falls silent and makes a disgusted face before going on. ‘Admittedly, a lot of murderers exhibit both types of characteristic, but the evidence supports the basic division. I assume different types of killers leave different types of evidence at a crime scene.’

Once again she is struck by Sofia’s speed. ‘God, you’re amazing! Are you sure you’ve never put together a perpetrator profile before?’

‘Never. But I know how to read, I’m a trained psychologist, I’ve worked with psychopaths and so on, blah, blah, blah.’

They laugh, and Jeanette realises how much she likes Sofia and her abrupt switches between seriousness and humour. The ability to take life seriously enough that it’s possible to laugh about it. About everything.

She thinks of ?ke’s bitter attitude, and the way he always seemed to be struggling under some physical burden that she could never understand. After all, he never took any responsibility for anything.

She lets her eyes follow the contours of Sofia’s face.

Her narrow neck, her high cheekbones.

Her lips.

She looks at her hands, and the well-manicured nails that are painted a pale mother-of-pearl colour. So pure, she thinks, aware that she’s thought the same thing before.

She’s here now, open. What happens next only time will tell.





Gamla Enskede – Kihlberg House


SOFIA IS SITTING on the sofa beside someone she has learned to like. She’s more and more drawn to Jeanette, and she knows why. There’s a physical attraction. But she also feels that Jeanette has noticed the darkness inside her. She feels safe with Jeanette even though she can’t come to grips with who she is and what she’s after.

Jeanette surprises her and challenges her, while at the same time genuinely seeming to respect her. And that’s the foundation for her attraction.

Sofia takes a deep breath, and notices the sound of Jeanette’s breathing accompanied by the rain drumming against the window ledge.

On impulse she agreed to help Jeanette with her case, but she’s already starting to regret it.

In purely rational terms, Jeanette’s suggestion ought to terrify her, she knows that. But at the same time there’s an opportunity to exploit the situation. She’ll find out all about the police investigation, and will get the chance to misdirect them.

Jeanette is calmly and factually telling her the details of the murders.

At the same time there is the awareness of who she is, who she shouldn’t be. Who she doesn’t want to be.

‘They had marks on their backs, suggesting that they had been whipped.’

Deep inside her consciousness doors are being thrown open. She remembers the marks on her own back.

She wants to leave every ego behind, to be stripped down to her bare bones.

Sofia realises that she can never be integrated with Victoria as long as she doesn’t accept what she’s done. She has to understand, and she has to regard Victoria’s actions as her own.

‘And they were also mutilated. Their genitals had been cut off.’

Sofia feels an urge to escape into simplicity, to shut the door on Victoria, lock her away deep inside and hope that she’ll slowly wither away.

Now she must pretend like an actress reading a script, and let her character come from within.

And that’s going to take more than empathy.

It’s about becoming the other person.

‘One of the boys was completely desiccated, but another had been preserved in an almost professional way. His blood had been removed and replaced with formaldehyde.’

They sit without saying anything for a while. Sofia can feel how sweaty her hands are. She wipes them against her leg before she speaks.

The words come by themselves. The lies come automatically.

‘I need to study the information you’ve given me, but for the time being I think we’re talking about a man between thirty and forty years old. Access to anaesthetic suggests that he works in the health sector. Maybe a doctor, nurse, vet, something like that. But, like I said, I need to analyse this more closely. I’ll have to get back to you.’

Jeanette gives her a look of gratitude.





Mariatorget – Sofia Zetterlund’s Office


SOFIA IS SITTING at the desk in her office eating lunch. The day’s schedule is tight after Jeanette persuaded her to see Ulrika Wendin.

As she pushes the remnants of the fast food into the bin, her laptop chimes.

A new email.

The sender brings her up short.

Annette Lundstr?m?

She opens the email and reads it.



Hello, I know you met with my husband. I’d like to talk to you about Karl and Linnea, and I’d be grateful if you could call me at the number below as soon as possible.





Interesting, she thinks, looking at the time. Five to one. Ulrika will be there soon, but she still picks up her phone and dials the number.



Ulrika sits down and crosses her legs, leans her elbows on the armrests, and clasps her hands together in her lap. Sofia does the same.

It’s all about mirroring, copying physical signals such as body movement and facial expressions. Ulrika Wendin needs to recognise herself in Sofia, and feel that she’s dealing with someone who’s on her side. If it succeeds, Ulrika will start to mirror Sofia, and then she can use tiny, scarcely noticeable changes in her own body language to get the girl to feel more relaxed.

Right now her arms and legs are closed, and her elbows are jutting out into the room like thorns.

Her whole body radiates insecurity.

You can’t be more defensive than this, Sofia thinks, lifting one leg from the other before leaning forward.

Erik Axl Sund, Neil Smith's books