It was a well-planned workspace with a small desk and a couple of bookcases. On top of the desk lay piles of papers and documents neatly arranged into different categories. In one of the bookcases was a row of red files labelled ‘Subject 1’, ‘Subject 2’ and so on, up to ‘Subject 6’. On the top shelf of the second bookcase were two black files, labelled ‘Other’ and ‘To do’ and on the bottom shelf was an assortment of essential office material, including pens, post-it-notes and a stapler.
Kim lived in a sort of controlled chaos. Everything was in a specific order. Sensitive material was stored away and well camouflaged. Kim pressed a small button, revealing a safe built into the wall. After punching in the security code they opened it and removed a file containing the men’s names, social security numbers and anything else that could be considered sensitive and potentially incriminating. Nobody would ever find the safe – not even Kim’s mother, who watered the flowers when they were away and liked to rummage around in the apartment at the same time.
Directly opposite the door hung a whiteboard covered with text. Much of the surface was allotted to a handwritten list of completed and uncompleted projects.
Subject 1 (x)
Subject 2 (completed)
Subject 3 (completed)
Subject 4 (completed)
Subject 5 (completed)
Subject6 (x)
Subject?
As well as being systematic, Kim was also well informed and aware that the digital domain was far from secure. The police had ways of snooping into people’s computers and a number of important aspects had to be taken into account when dealing with secret projects like this. You could never be too careful when it came to collecting information. Pen and paper were the only viable options.
After the completion of each project it was important not to leave any evidence behind. Eventually, Kim planned to destroy all the material and information collected over the years.
Once Kim had dreamed of becoming a detective and had been envious of others who had achieved this ranking. But over the past four years a lot had changed. Kim smiled. They removed a file from the shelf and proudly admired their work – an investigation report, which, under normal circumstances, could only be compiled by a skilled detective. It was a comprehensive document containing a wealth of information about the next subject. Kim was satisfied. There was no reason to be envious any longer. In the hours, days, months and years spent gathering intelligence about the men, Kim had managed to uncover more information than all the investigation teams who were working on the various cases put together.
Kim returned the file to the safe. They took out a felt pen and began to write on the board. Just then the phone rang. They switched out the light and walked out of the room, closing the door behind them and sliding the bookshelf back to its original position. Nobody would ever suspect there was a concealed room behind the bookshelf.
“Hello?”
“Hi sweetie!”
“Hi Mum!” responded Kim warmly.
“I’m just checking in… how are you?”
“I’m fine.”
“What are you up to? If you’re free since it’s such a nice day we could take Rufus for a walk? How about it?”
Kim thought for a moment. They had planned to go for a run to clear their head and then spend the rest of the day reviewing information about the next subject on the list. This was hardly the best time to be social.
“What a pity, I’ve arranged to meet a friend and before that I’m going running,” replied Kim. “Let’s do it another day…”
“Sure, great that you’re meeting friends,” replied Kim’s mother enthusiastically.
Kim put the phone down and glanced at the clock before hurrying to the bathroom to brush their teeth. They leaned towards the mirror and looked at their crew cut then hurried into the hall to put on their jogging shoes. Just as they were about to leave they changed their mind. There was no point in going out while their head was cluttered with so many thoughts. Kim returned to the secret room and grabbed hold of the file labelled: ‘Subject 6’.
CHAPTER 14
Stina Haag
STINA HAAG, A WOMAN IN HER FORTIES WHO CLAIMED she was friendly with the Alvik couple, was seated in an interview room at the police station on Kungsholmen. With her business-like expression and strict clothing style, she looked like the no-nonsense type. She sat upright on the chair and didn’t flinch when Sanna Johansson and Allan Jonsson entered the room.
They introduced themselves and Stina Haag shook hands with them cordially but without enthusiasm.
The detectives sat down on the other side of the table. After the customary formalities, Sanna described her role in the proceedings and explained why Stina Haag had been summoned for questioning. She was optimistic that her statement would provide a welcome breakthrough in the murder investigation.
Stina Haag remained impassive.
“How do you know the Alvik couple?”
“They’re not a couple any longer.”
“No, but do you know them both well?”
“Yes.”
“Can you tell me how you met them?” asked Sanna. If Stina Haag continued to be so unforthcoming this interview was going to be a long process.
Sanna studied her witness. She could easily imagine Stina Haag playing the role of a sadist in the orgies. She had an arrogant way of expressing herself and came across as a rather unsympathetic character. She was evidently a woman used to getting her own way.
“We know that orgies were held at Aron Alvik’s house, and that there were a number of people who met there regularly. Were you one of them?”
Sanna had decided that direct provocation might encourage the woman to be more cooperative.
Stina Haag raised her eyebrows. “And what’s that got to do with you!”
Allan Jonsson cleared his throat and straightened up in his chair.
Stina Haag gave him a threatening look.
Allan looked first at her then down at the table.
“As you well know, we’re investigating a murder and that means everything that went on in Aron Alvik’s cottage concerns us,” said Sanna. “So, it will make things a lot easier if you talk. Otherwise, this meeting is going to take a very long time.”
“Am I being accused of anything?”
“No, but you’re one of the few people in the neighbourhood with inside knowledge of what went on at the property, so I advise you to start talking.”
“I have nothing to say. Next time you want to talk to me I suggest you contact my lawyer first.” Stina Haag stood up and pushed her chair back under the table.
“As you wish. I had no idea things were that bad. We’ll contact your lawyer. What’s his or her name?”
Stina Haag stretched the muscles in her back and stared at Sanna. “What do you mean?”
“Well, if you’re too scared to say anything unless a lawyer is present you’re obviously going to arouse our suspicions.
Stina Haag looked away. After considering her options for a moment she pulled out the chair again and sat down.
“What do you want to know?”
SHE SMILED AND HELD THE PHONE AGAINST her shoulder while scribbling something into her notebook.
“Thanks! I owe you one. Let me know if there’s anything I can do to return the favour.”
She was reluctant to suggest money, even though it would be perfectly acceptable under the circumstances.
Silence.
She checked her notes. “One more question. Are you suggesting that the victim was homosexual?”
There was a click on the line as the person at the other end hung up.
Lorena Pascalini leaned back in the armchair and mulled over what she had just heard. It had cost her a lot of time and tested her patience but she had always known that sooner or later she would get her way. An unknown source had contacted her at home with information about the murder enquiry. The trouble was that the voice was disguised and she had no idea who she was t
alking to, not even if it was a man or a woman.
‘Sex orgies!’ She underlined the word. ‘Homosexual desire. Deadly homosexual orgies’ No, ‘Deadly sex orgies’ sounds better.
IT WAS JUST PAST TWELVE THIRTY in the early hours of Sunday morning and Sanna was having a drink at Södra Teatern. The music was thumping and everyone was in a party mood. Some of the guests were standing at the bar with drinks in their hands, taking in the scene. Others were dancing to music Sanna didn’t recognize. The bar was packed but nobody seemed to care. Sanna was dressed entirely in black with tight jeans, elegant silk camisole, leather jacket and a pair of high heel boots. Out of habit, good or bad, whenever someone caught her attention, Sanna’s instinctive reaction was to stare at them. True to form, when she realised that a young woman at the bar was checking her out, Sanna made eye contact and smiled.
A few minutes later the girl approached.
“Hi, nice party isn’t it?”
Sanna nodded with a smile.
“Oh, sorry, I forgot to introduce myself… I’m Andrea,” she said, stretching out her hand.
“Sanna.”
They shook hands.
Sanna had started to regularly attend events at Södra Teatern. She felt comfortable among the clientele, who were of all ages and sexual orientation. Sanna wasn’t used to meeting people at clubs but with Andrea she didn’t need to make much of an effort. The young woman chatted nineteen to the dozen. She had a Masters degree in Computer Science and was also interested in social issues. The main discussion that particular evening was human trafficking.
Sanna observed her for a while, Andrea was about thirty years old and under her boyish clothes appeared to have an attractive, feminine figure. She spoke quickly and emphatically and her child-like laugh was infectious.
Between drinks, dancing and general chitchat, the time passed quickly. Suddenly, the music stopped and the main overhead lights came on. It was time to leave.
They left the bar together.
“Thanks for a lovely evening. Maybe we’ll see each other again.”
Despite Andrea’s attempts to hide her disappointment she was momentarily speechless.
“I would really like to see you again,” she said eventually. “Can I have your phone number?”
“I’ll call you instead,” replied Sanna, smiling softly.
Andrea wrote her number down on a piece of paper and said goodbye.
CHAPTER 15
The seized computers
SABINE KEIKKONEN FROM NFC had completed her work mirroring the hard disc from Konrad Berg’s laptop as well as producing working copies. This was normal procedure. It secured unlimited access to the electronically stored information from the original computer in case the data ended up in the wrong hands and manipulation or similar falsification of the contents occurred. Sabine had repeated the process with Thom Mark and Dexter Fleming’s computers, which were still in safe keeping even though the investigation had been closed down a few years earlier. She placed the three USB sticks containing the copied data into a box, together with the hard discs.
Keikkonen had also been assigned the task of analysing the information for links to child pornography. In addition, she had been asked to check for names that might appear on both computers. She quickly scanned through the report. Satisfied with the results she picked up the phone and punched in a few numbers.
“Hi Sabine,” answered Javier. “Have you got something for me?”
“Yup, one for you anyway – the other’s for Thorén and Segelström,” she replied in her strong Finnish accent.
“Great!”
“You can come and fetch them if you want,” she chuckled. “Otherwise you’ll just have to be patient and wait for the postman!”
“Ha ha, I’m coming over. I’m actually in Linköping at the moment so I can be there in half an hour.”
“Oh, great. Guess I’ll see you soon then.”
“How about coffee?” asked Javier. “I was thinking of calling you anyway to see if you were free…”
“Sure. See you in a bit.”
Keikkonen and Javier had been meeting out of the office occasionally. They enjoyed each other’s company and could sit and talk for hours. They shared similar values and expectations and it was obvious they were physically attracted to one another. However, despite the flirtatious looks, loving smiles and affectionate exchanges, so far they hadn’t taken their relationship further.
ANDREA WAS EATING BRUNCH with a friend at Centralbadet when her phone rang.
“Hi Andrea, this is Sanna. We met the other day at…”
“Hi, great to hear from you!” Andrea recognized Sanna’s voice immediately and was thrilled. Since their meeting at Södra Teatern ten days ago she had been on tenterhooks waiting to hear from her. She had almost given up hope.
“Do you feel like meeting tomorrow for a coffee or something?” asked Sanna.
“Tomorrow? Yes, that’d be great. Where?”
Andrea’s friend looked nonplussed. Just a few minutes ago they had arranged to meet some other friends.
“How about meeting in Gamla Stan. There are lots of places around Stortorget… unless you have another idea?” continued Sanna.
“Stortorget’s perfect. What time?”
“I usually leave home around ten on Sundays and go for a long walk. I have a favourite route that takes me south via Medborgaplatsen to Årstaviken. It’s beautiful there. Then after an hour or so I head back towards Slussen… I live on Götgatan by the way. So let’s say twelve o’clock? How does that sound?”
Andrea’s eyes lit up like two suns as she listened. She enjoyed hearing Sanna describing her routine in such detail and chatting to her as if they were already old friends.
THE SOUND OF CECILE THORÉN’S joyful laugh echoed down the corridor as Allan Jonsson and her joked around on their way down to the garage.
“You’re crazy!” she laughed and slapped him on the back.
Allan grimaced in pain and groaned.
“Oh, I didn’t hit you that hard – did I?” she continued jokingly.
He shook his head, despite looking distinctly uncomfortable.
Thorén was bewildered. She wasn’t sure how to react. This wasn’t the first time Allan had complained of soreness. He was a fit man, yet there were days when he could hardly walk upright. She was starting to become concerned.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you. What happened?”
Allan shook his head, but remained silent.
Thorén realized she couldn’t continue to act as if nothing had happened. “You’re not taking another step until you tell me what’s wrong,” she said, blocking his way.
“Stop fooling around Cecile. I’ve probably pulled a muscle or twisted my back in a strange way. It’s nothing serious. You didn’t hit me that hard. I’m just a bit sore, that’s all.”
They continued in silence towards the car.
Although they hadn’t worked together that long, they had clicked immediately and quickly become good friends. As a rule they tended to engage in frank, open conversation but as soon as Thorén inquired about Allan’s personal life he would change the subject. This had never bothered her particularly since she respected his desire for privacy.
Everyone in the team knew that he was having trouble at home. His partner would often call him at the office and it was impossible to avoid hearing her screeching, unpleasant voice at the end of the phone. However, nobody had any idea what they talked about since Jonsson always detached himself from the group to continue the conversation in private.
FOR THE THIRD TIME THAT MORNING, Sanna glanced at her phone. It was five past nine. She shifted in the chair and sighed heavily.
“Does anyone know where Blom is?”
Kalle shook his head and Javier, who was sitting beside him, yawned and leaned back in his chair. Monika Lind and Samir Mohamed glanced at each other. Sanna was sitting directly across the table from the prosecutor, Carl-Magnus Alkelius. It was the
first time he had attended a meeting about this particular case.
Sanna looked at him as he casually flipped through the pages of his Filofax. She felt as if she was seeing him for the first time. Although they had worked together on a previous investigation, she had never really noticed how charismatic he was. He was wearing his customary grey suit and she imagined a row of identical outfits hanging neatly in his wardrobe. For the first time she became aware of how his clothes emphasized his tall stature. He had a serious disposition and was often quite stressed but there was an attractive serenity in his green eyes.
He looked up and their eyes met briefly. He smiled. Sanna blushed.
“No. But Cecile Thorén’s at home with her kids,” said Monika.
Sanna glanced at Segelström.
“We agreed that I would present our report,” he said. “We completed it yesterday…”
Sanna wasn’t too happy about this but said nothing.
Ten minutes later Blom made his entrance. He seemed a little flustered and wasn’t in the best of moods.
“Damn traffic!” he growled. “I’m sorry.” He fished out a handkerchief from his trouser pocket and wiped his face, then sat down next to Segelström.
Sanna cradled her mug of coffee with both hands and sipped the warm drink.
She gazed at the participants around the table. “Who wants to start?”
“I’ll begin,” said Javier. “Well, as most of you know, we found quite a lot of interesting material at Konrad Berg’s place. He had a den full of secrets. He used a number of dating sites for singles as well as married people looking for sex – so-called ‘affair dating’. He made contact with several women, most of whom were married. It appears he wasn’t trying to get laid but instead wanted to strike up friendships with mature women whom he could then abuse in some way. He seems to have resorted to threats and blackmail by sending compromising pornographic photos to their husbands.
There are two women who stand out. A fifty-year-old woman called Eleonor Baker and a thirty-eight year old woman called Nina Jay who’s married to a Mr. Sackarov. Through their e-mail and text message correspondence I have been able to ascertain that Konrad Berg threatened these women over a long period of time.” Javier referred briefly to his notes and then continued. “From what I can tell, Konrad Berg is mostly interested in the older woman. Eleonor Baker’s husband is a wealthy old English gentleman who owns a number of companies both here and abroad.
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