Stockholm Police

Stockholm Police is the institution through which the novel’s central investigation takes shape: it gathers evidence, coordinates specialists, and pursues leads that increasingly connect apparently separate crimes and people. The case is led by Jeanette Kihlberg, whose work shows both the reach of police procedure and its limits. The victim is difficult to identify, relevant expertise is scarce, and decisions remain subject to a chain of command that can constrain the investigator closest to the evidence.

Structure and investigative authority

When Jeanette arrives at the crime scene, she is the most senior officer present and takes charge. That authority is practical but not absolute. She is expected to report to Commissioner Dennis Billing, who will inform Prosecutor Kenneth von Kwist; the commissioner and prosecutor will then decide how to proceed, whether or not their decision matches Jeanette’s view. The arrangement places her at the center of fieldwork while reserving consequential decisions for senior officials and the prosecution.

At headquarters, Jeanette distributes preliminary tasks among the officers. A group of recently graduated officers has been knocking on doors, while colleagues examine road-toll records and surveillance footage secured from a teacher-training college and a metro station. The scale of the vehicle search—almost eight hundred thousand records—makes the investigation’s labor and uncertainty concrete. These searches do not guarantee a breakthrough, but they show how the organization converts a sparse initial scene into parallel lines of inquiry.

Specialist support and limited capacity

The police seek expert help when the unfamiliar nature of the crime exceeds the immediate team’s experience. Ivo Andrić, a specialist in unusual and extreme deaths, is called to the scene early in the morning. Because the police do not want to keep the area around the metro station cordoned off longer than necessary, he must work quickly. He cannot yet determine whether sexual violence occurred and cautions against a premature conclusion. His involvement demonstrates the value of specialist assessment, while the urgency surrounding the scene limits the time available for it.

Jeanette also contacts Lars Mikkelsen at National Crime, where he is responsible for violent and sexual offences against children. She recognizes that investigating and reviewing child-abuse material is exceptionally demanding, and that the work calls for considerable resilience. Later, she reflects that Sweden has only five police officers specializing in sex crimes against children, and that the number of psychologists specializing in traumatized children may be only two or three. This is Jeanette’s estimate rather than a formal staffing statement, but it clarifies the scarcity she experiences: the police cannot readily draw on a large pool of specialist support.

The missing children and the limits of records

By the third day after the boy’s discovery, the investigation has produced no new lead that identifies him. The register of missing children contains no obvious match. Jeanette knows that hundreds, perhaps thousands, of undocumented children may be living in Sweden, but informal contacts through churches and the Salvation Army have no information about a child fitting the description. Stockholm City Mission can offer no direct identification either. A worker from its night outreach reports that children gather beneath Central Bridge, accept food, and then leave without forming lasting contact with the adults who offer assistance.

Jeanette and Jens Hurtig pursue these community leads, revisit refugee centres, and try Interpol. She resists the assumption that the children have simply disappeared: in her view, the pattern may be the reverse, with children appearing in the country without having first been registered or reported missing. That distinction changes the investigative problem. Conventional searches depend on records, relatives, or institutions noticing an absence; children without documentation or stable connections may have no such trace for police to follow. The novel presents this as a failure of visibility, not as evidence that the children matter less.

The opening airport account sharpens that problem. A newly arrived boy gives border police a rehearsed story about his family and work, while concealing a telephone number written on paper in his shoe. The phone he carries has an empty contact list, and his account is designed to pass scrutiny. The scene shows that police contact does not necessarily reveal a child’s circumstances: a vulnerable arrival may be coached, supplied, and connected to people whom the authorities cannot see from the information he provides. The account does not establish that officers knowingly assist those exploiting children; rather, it reveals how incomplete or deliberately constructed information can frustrate identification and protection.

From individual cases to a network

As the inquiry expands, Stockholm Police begin to compare names, relationships, and institutional connections rather than treating every lead as isolated. Jeanette asks for school registers and yearbooks from Sigtuna College for the Humanities to investigate a group that includes Fredrika Grünewald, Charlotte Silfverberg, and Henrietta Nordlund, while continuing to seek information about the missing Victoria Bergman. She also draws attention to links among Bengt Bergman, Viggo Dürer, Karl Lundström, and Per-Ola Silfverberg: all were connected to the Sihtunum i Diasporan foundation. Commissioner Dennis Billing adds that his predecessor, Gert Berglind, knew Karl Lundström through a foundation. These connections give the police a broader map to examine, but the existence of an association alone does not establish guilt or explain the crimes.

The inquiry also draws on clinical contact. Jeanette calls Sofia Zetterlund about Samuel Bai, a former patient who has been found dead. When Jeanette later visits the elderly Sofia, Sofia corrects the description of people in her care, preferring to call them clients. For police, Sofia’s treatment history may make her a source of relevant context, but it also places private therapeutic relationships beside an investigation seeking answers. The encounters show the case crossing professional boundaries without, on the evidence presented here, resolving what those boundaries should permit.

Suspects, procedure, and unfinished questions

The investigation eventually leads Jeanette to seek arrest warrants for Hannah Östlund and Jessica Friberg. Both women are missing. Prosecutor Kenneth von Kwist agrees to warrants on reasonable suspicion of Fredrika Grünewald’s murder; the evidence concerning the murder of Per-Ola Silfverberg is assessed as less compelling, supporting a different level of suspicion. The distinction matters: the police and prosecution do not treat every allegation as equally established, even as the suspects’ absence makes the next steps uncertain.

Other leads remain circumstantial. Jeanette knows that half a million kronor has been paid into Annette Lundström’s bank account and suspects it may be a bribe, though investigators have not traced the source. Sofia has indicated that Ulrika Wendin had substantial cash and suggested that Dürer might be involved. A letter from Karl Lundström to his daughter Linnea and pictures Linnea drew as a child also point Jeanette toward questions about Dürer’s past. She directs colleagues to investigate him even though he is dead, on the possibility that evidence about his earlier life could help identify the murderer. Together these lines of inquiry show Stockholm Police building a case from financial records, personal testimony, documents, and relationships while keeping suspicion distinct from proof. The institution’s work advances, but the motive remains unresolved and the investigative picture continues to depend on evidence that may be incomplete or hidden.