Impact Epub

by Lourdes Daza-Gillman

  Kalle regarded Thorén thoughtfully. “There must be a reason for that.”

  “Yes, and we’re going to find out what it is,” declared Sanna. “However, what we can determine from these films is that the sex was consensual so there’s nothing we can use to make an arrest. We need to find out why they don’t meet in the same place any more. Has the group been disbanded or do they get together somewhere else?” She ran her fingers through her hair. “Kalle, you’ve got to give Aron Alvik a good grilling.”

  “Yeah, I’ll be tough on him.”

  “He needs to tell us who the victim is and when he last saw him. We also want to know everything about him; where he went in the days before his death, who he met, what kind of car he owns, his bank transactions, car journeys, shop purchases, pubs, restaurant visits – everything! At the same time we’ll check out the other victims. It’s a big job but we have no choice.”

  “Do we have the resources for all this?” objected Allan Jonsson.

  “No, but we’ll have to make an effort and do our best. Plus we might get some info from earlier investigation reports,” argued Sanna.

  Blom twisted uncomfortably in his chair and flicked through his Filofax.

  Jonsson’s mobile rang and he left the room.

  At the other end of the phone they could hear a woman shouting. This had happened a number of times over the last few days.

  A heavy silence descended on the room.

  Sanna glanced at the clock on her mobile.

  “I suggest we take a break. I have to make a few calls, so let’s regroup in thirty minutes.”

  The team filed out of the investigation room. Thorén made her way to Allan Jonsson’s office and was just about to knock on the door when she heard that he was still talking on the phone. She turned and walked towards her office.

  Javier hurried to catch up with her. “How’re things?”

  “Okay. Why do you ask?” she replied with a faint smile.

  “You look a little worried,” he said, convinced Thorén knew something about Allan Jonsson.

  “No, I’m just a little tired.”

  “What’s up with Allan? He seems a bit out of sorts,” continued Javier.

  “Hmm…”

  “Do you know what the problem is?”

  Thorén looked at him intently. “No, but there’s definitely something wrong.”

  FORTY MINUTES LATER Sanna Johansson returned to the investigation room with a steaming café latte in her hand. The team had reconvened and the officers were chatting among themselves, apart from Allan Jonsson, who was deeply absorbed in his own thoughts.

  “Okay. The only thing we can confirm from Thorén and Allan’s report so far is that the crime scene was a hangout for people taking part in sex orgies. Was the murderer one of the participants in these films and are the participants all members of the BDSM group?

  My hope is that once the victim is identified he will lead us to the others. I suspect there’s a connection between the victim, attacker and the BDSM group.”

  Blom glanced at her sceptically. “Yes, that’s one of the possible scenarios, but we should start by looking at sex offenders who’ve been active in different parts of the country.”

  Sanna shook her head.

  “Sex offenders tend to attack women, not adult men. But of course anything’s possible. I’d like to check out Aaron Alvik’ role in this hornet’s nest. If he has any connection at all to the films, that will tell us a great deal about him. He could very well be one of the people taking part in the orgies. Considering that the victim was so sadistically raped, we can’t rule out links to a sadomasochistic group. My guess is that Aron Alvik knows or suspects who the murderer is.

  Kalle, get him to talk. Maybe he also knows what happened and how everything got so out of hand.”

  Kalle nodded, clasped his hands behind his neck and leaned back on his chair. Javier and Thorén exchanged a knowing look.

  At that moment Anders Segelström entered the room. He had just returned from attending a doctor’s appointment.

  Sanna couldn’t help being curious about how he felt returning to his old job.

  Segelström had been the subject of an internal inquiry after abusing his position as an investigating officer by hiding important evidence in a celebrated murder investigation. The case had rocked upper-class society in Stockholm.

  From the start there had been disagreement among the internal investigators about the most appropriate punishment – whether to hand him a suspension or redeploy him to another department. However, following pressure from above, Anders Segelström was eventually moved to an administrative post at a division outside Stockholm.

  He stared at the information on the whiteboard to familiarize himself with the new investigation and deliberately avoided looking at Sanna directly.

  “We won’t waste any time on the women. Let’s concentrate on the male participants. It’s unlikely that a woman is capable of doing something like this,” said Blom.

  “At this stage it’s hard to judge,” countered Sanna, giving him a piercing look. “We don’t have any technical evidence to rule that out completely. All we know for sure is that our attacker is physically strong, plans each murder methodically and is probably a seasoned killer, since they have been extremely careful not to leave any clues behind.”

  “They?” repeated Segelström with snide smile.

  Blom glowered at him. “I think it’s an apt pronoun.”

  Segelström’s face burned. Whatever next, he thought. This was the last thing he would have expected from Blom.

  “A bodybuilder or somebody used to lifting heavy objects,” added Kalle.

  “There are loads of people out there with jobs that require them to lift heavy objects or people – furniture removers, garbage workers, caregivers and so on,” conjectured Javier.

  Thorén smiled. “The murderer could also have had an accomplice. Two of the victims are pretty bulky and far too heavy to lift onto the bed or immobilize without a monumental effort, yet there are no signs of a struggle having taken place. Although, come to think of it, I managed single-handedly to bring down a man who was both taller and more powerful than me. Perhaps the murderer could be a woman after all.”

  Blom looked at her dismissively and Javier underlined something in the autopsy report. Kalle smiled at Sanna in secret understanding.

  Sanna smiled back at him. Last year she had managed to get the better of a man who had tried to attack her. Kalle had been impressed at her ability to bounce back following the traumatic incident.

  It’s easy to cope when you set your mind to it, she thought. She clearly needed to widen her perspective and approach the investigation from a different angle. She returned to her original hypothesis, namely that the attacker could be a woman.

  “Whether the killer is a man or a woman, the fact remains that they adopt this ritual for an important reason. They want the victim to suffer, hence the torture. So, if our attacker is a member of a BDSM group they would definitely be classified as a sadist. Apart from this, all we have is a few letters and a synthetic strand of hair.”

  Javier drummed his fingers on the table. “Let’s keep in mind that a different coloured hair strand was discovered at each crime scene. I’m convinced the murderer’s trying to confuse us.”

  Segelström, who was busy typing on his tablet computer, nodded in agreement. Blom suppressed a yawn.

  “The fact that the murderer chose these particular victims is not a random decision,” muttered Sanna. “I’m damn sure there’s a specific reason why they were murdered. We mustn’t forget that serial killers leave their own unique signatures in order to fulfil themselves – for the act to be meaningful, so to speak.”

  “But why torture them first?” grunted Thorén.

  “The murderer has to satisfy his own needs. The methods they use can vary but, in general, the purpose is to elicit certain responses; to control, to torment, to satisfy sexual desire and so on.”


  A pregnant silence descended.

  Allan Jonsson looked up with renewed interest.

  Thorén watched him. She reached across the table for the water jug. Javier passed her his glass and she filled it for him as well. He smiled gratefully.

  “I would like to know what other interests the killer has besides BDSM.” said Sanna, leaning back in the chair and placing her hands behind her neck. “It wouldn’t surprise me if there’s another even more important link, information that could lead us closer to them. Okay! Kalle and Javier, we’ve got lots to do. Let’s begin with a search of Aron Alvik’s house, and, as soon as we’ve identified the victim, organize a search of his property too. Contact the prosecutor, Carl-Magnus Alkelius, and make sure he’s updated about the situation.”

  Javier and Kalle exchanged glances in agreement.

  “Thorén and Allan, you continue with the BDSM group. We must use every means at our disposal. We’ll question everyone and seize their computers.” Sanna glanced at her notes. “Javier, look for any other common denominators. Start with Dexter Fleming in Vasastan. Maybe he can lead us to the others.”

  Javier scratched his throat and nodded.

  “Kalle, check out who he socialized with. Did he know the other victims? We have to persuade the owner of the cottage to tell us everything he knows. I don’t buy that nonsense about the keys. Of course he knows who used the cottage and what went on there!”

  ”Okay,” said Kalle.

  “Let’s find out whether the victim was ever threatened,” she added, almost as an afterthought, while staring at her tablet computer. “Was there anybody who wanted him dead?”

  There was another expectant silence as the team waited for Sanna to continue.

  Segelström typed feverishly on his computer in an attempt to hide his awkwardness. This was his first case since his demotion. He had asked to be reassigned to another division but was told there were no vacancies. He knew that the real reason was nobody wanted him. And now he was back in the department where he least wanted to be. They had given him no choice in the matter. Segelström was lucky that Blom liked him, otherwise goodness knows where he would have ended up.

  Sanna began to write on her tablet computer. She really didn’t want to give Segelström any responsibilities but couldn’t just ignore him

  Blom cleared his throat and glared at her.

  Sanna looked up. Her expression hardened. She glanced first at Blom and then at Segelström then leaned back in the chair and clasped her hands behind her neck, focusing her attention on an indeterminate spot on the ceiling.

  “There must be fingerprints on the objects seized from the crime scene. Check out whether Forensics have come up with any trace evidence that doesn’t belong to the victim,” she instructed Segelström. “I’m also interested in the leather straps. Did the murderer buy them, and if so, where? Or are they hand made.”

  “Okay,” he whispered, trying hard to hide his discomfort.

  “What have you got planned, Sanna?” asked Blom listlessly.

  “Well, as I’m sure you’re aware we have a number of interviews to carry out,” she replied disdainfully. “Firstly, I’m going to contact Ante Knutsson at Värmdö police station and find out more about those odd brothers. According to him one of them does all the talking, the other never says a word.”

  Sanna turned to Thorén.

  “Thorén, as soon as you’ve identified the BDSM members, organise search warrants and confiscate their computers. Segelström can work with you.”

  Thorén and Javier exchanged a fleeting glance and Kalle shifted uncomfortably in his chair looking decidedly unconvinced.

  Sanna was determined to have Segelström reassigned again if he showed any signs of returning to his old habits. His withholding of evidence and unwillingness to cooperate in the past had caused enormous problems and she wasn’t prepared to tolerate it in the future.

  Being suspended from work had been a very painful experience, both the demotion itself as well as the shame that it carried. Anders Segelström hadn’t had an easy time of it. When his suspension was finally over it had quickly become apparent that that he had burnt his bridges. He was no longer welcome anywhere. Every police district and division knew about him and why he was looking for a job. The only alternative left was to get in touch with Henrik Blom and hope for the best.

  Despite assurances that he had learnt his lesson, at first it appeared that not even Blom was willing to give him a second chance. However, after much procrastination he had eventually relented. Anders Segelström would be given a six-month trial period.

  “I expect you to behave in a professional manner and do everything you can to restore your reputation. You better not make me regret giving you this chance,” said Blom.

  For his part, Segelström was far from satisfied. Although he had his old job back, he planned on moving to another division as soon as possible. He was determined that everyone would discover that he was, in fact, a competent and trustworthy person.

  CHAPTER 8

  A day like any other

  KIM STRUGGLED IN VAIN TO BREAK FREE, convulsing their body defiantly as the adrenalin coursed through their veins. Their ankles and wrists were already bleeding and the aggressive movements only aggravated the situation.

  They lay on the bed, angry and helpless. How on earth had they ended up here?

  Their face twisted with terror and tears and perspiration ran down their cheeks. The only sound they could muster through the mouth gag was a muffled groan.

  Don’t lose control. Think!

  But all Kim could think about was the sharp pain in their wrists and the tightly knotted leather straps pinning them down.

  The men groaned with pleasure and laughed.

  They took it in turns.

  Kim writhed in pain and tried to scream. They had to escape before it was too late.

  An alarm clock rang.

  They opened their eyes drowsily, took a deep breath and tossed aside the damp sheet then staggered to the bathroom, climbed into the shower and turned on the tap.

  They stood there, still only half awake.

  Since that day, Kim had been haunted by nightmares and could bear it no longer. It was as if they had an internal mood regulator that would kick start whenever their anger threatened to flare up again.

  Pull yourself together for goodness sake, they thought. There’s no time for this pointless anger and self-pity. It’s futile to keep digging into the past. Think clearly and stay focused.

  CHAPTER 9

  A Peculiar Witness

  THE HOUSE TO HOUSE ENQUIRIES conducted by the police on the island of Ingarö produced nothing of significance. Everybody they talked to seemed to be suffering from amnesia. Who could possibly remember something that had happened so long ago?

  Sanna leaned her elbows on the table and rested her head in her hands. She had been studying Värmdö division’s preliminary police report in the hope of finding more clues, not just those that Ante Knutsson had suggested NBI investigate further.

  There were three potential witnesses. One of them was Nisse Bergling who, together with his brother Viggo, lived close to the crime scene. According to the report, so far they hadn’t been able to interview him. Sanna noted the address and glanced at the time on her iPhone. It was quarter past three.

  “Coffee?” asked Thorén, poking her head around the door.

  “I haven’t got time, I’m on my way to a meeting,” answered Sanna with a smile. She had already drunk several cups of coffee that morning. It was time to head out to Ingarö to meet up with her colleagues at Värmdö Police Station and listen to Ante’s Knutsson’s summary of the witness statements. Perhaps she’d grab another caffeine fix later instead.

  IT WAS FIVE O’CLOCK BY THE TIME Sanna Johansson drove into a secluded cul-de-sac leading to an average-sized house. She parked the car close to the fence.

  It was a beautiful sunny afternoon. The house was located near a mixed forest with oak, pine, as
p and fir trees. Colourful leaves lay scattered on the ground, hinting at an early autumn and infusing the scene with an almost idyllic quality. Sanna marvelled at how peaceful it was. She drew a deep breath and filled her lungs with the fresh, clear air. The area was deserted and completely silent except for a light breeze rustling the asp leaves and the sound of birds twittering.

  The brothers’ house was only a couple of hundred metres from the scene of the crime. Sanna observed that compared to the other houses in the area, which were very well kept, this particular property was dirty and badly maintained. Rubbish bags, building material, timber and old furniture lay scattered around the yard. The whole house smelt of decay and was badly in need of renovation. The façade, once a shade of light grey, was now pale brown and in several places the paint had fallen away.

  She opened the gate, walked up the steps and knocked on the door.

  Heavy footsteps approached and an unshaven man with dishevelled hair opened the door.

  “Yes?” he said, scratching his stubble demonstratively.

  “Inspector Sanna Johansson,” she replied, displaying her id.

  He looked closer at the badge and scowled.

  “Who is it?” said a voice from behind the curtain in the next room.

  “The police,” answered the man nonchalantly.

  “What do they want this time?”

  The man looked disapprovingly at Sanna.

  “Are you Nisse Bergling?” asked Sanna politely.

  He nodded.

  “Mr. Bergling, Did you ever notice anything unusual going on at the neighbour’s property?” she asked, pointing to the crime scene. With a little effort you could just see the front door of the house.