He only stopped threatening the younger woman when she told him she didn’t care anymore. In an e-mail she writes:
‘You don’t know who you’re dealing with, you bloody idiot! The day you tell my husband, there’s no turning back. Both you and I will be history. He won’t hesitate for a second to get someone to finish us both off. Don’t you get it?’
That probably scared him off,” concluded Javier, smiling.
Blom took out his handkerchief again and mopped the sweat from his brow. “What did these women do?”
“They’re housewives. It’s all in the report. I hope to meet them next week if I ever manage to get hold of them. Who knows, maybe they’ll lead us to the murderer.”
Sanna raised her eyebrows. “What’s the problem?”
“They’re never at home and they don’t answer their mobiles.”
The prosecutor stopped writing in his Filofax and looked up at Javier. “Strange. Wealthy women don’t normally worry about roaming charges when they’re abroad.”
“No, but they could be using another subscription,” added Sanna.
“Possibly. Anyway, that’s where we are now,” continued Javier.
Sanna walked over to the whiteboard. A photograph of Konrad Berg was placed at the top. Beside it was a post it note with the name of his wife, Karin Åström-Berg written on it. Underneath was a photograph of Aron Alvik, who claimed to have been away when the murder was committed. However, since the pathologist still couldn’t determine precisely when Konrad Berg had died his alibi would have to be checked later.
Sanna noted the new information and added Eleonor Baker and Nina Jay’s names onto the board. She stepped back to view the display, then turned around and returned to her seat.
The rest of the team watched her attentively.
“Tell us about the shoe boxes. What was in them?” she asked Javier.
Javier gestured in Kalle’s direction.
Kalle sat up in his chair and flipped through the pages of their report. “These men have known each other for a long time. They’re all members of the same shooting club. Five of them appear to have been active members attending practically all the meetings and competitions.”
“Who are they?” asked Segelström.
“Right, I was just getting to that,” replied Kalle glancing down at the pile of papers. “Konrad Berg, Thom Mark, Dexter Fleming, Bosse Krom and Åke Pettersson, AKA Oxen. It’s not clear when our victim stopped participating. We have a list of the club’s activities. Aron Alvik and a man called Jukka – full name Anton Jukka Lidman – were also in the group from the beginning. Apparently neither of them has been active for the past few years or, to be more precise, Alvik hasn’t participated for at least two years and Jukka for almost four years.”
“Damn it! Somebody’s planning to kill the entire group,” exclaimed Allan Jonsson.
Kalle walked over to the whiteboard and wrote the names Bosse Krom and Åke Pettersson under the victim’s name with the question: “Still Alive?”
Sanna looked on with interest. “Put up Jukka and Aron Alvik’s names too. They’re probably also in danger.”
“Unfortunately, I haven’t got their social security numbers yet but I’m working on it. I guess they have that information at the shooting club. However, the only person with access to the register is the owner and he’s in Thailand right now. I’ll go back there next week.”
Silence.
Blom suppressed a yawn. “I suggest we take a break.”
Sanna glanced absentmindedly at the clock on her mobile, but barely registered the time. She turned to Segelström.
“Anything to report?”
“No,” replied Segelström. “Not a thing. We went through all the DVD and CD’s and reviewed Keikkonen’s report. We also re-examined Tom Mark and Dexter Fleming’s hard drives. Their email and text messages are cryptic. I suspect they communicate via media we don’t have access to yet. I have a sneaking suspicion that they use pay as you go phones or other untraceable mobile devices.
Although neither of them ever looked at child pornography, they visited loads of BDSM websites and made contact with both men and women. I think they were bisexual. The report was sent to you yesterday.”
“BDSM?” repeated Blom.
“It’s basically like sadomasochism,” explained Segelström.
“Anyone we should bring in for questioning?” asked Sanna.
“Yes, we’ve earmarked three people with a history of aggressive behaviour and are trying to get in contact with them.”
Sanna quickly leafed through the report.
“Okay, let’s take a ten-minute break,” she said and left the room. The rest of the team, with the exception of Blom, followed and headed off towards the vending machine.
Allan Jonsson’s mobile rang. He walked away. At the other end of the phone they could hear a woman shouting. His face dropped.
“Please don’t be angry… I will…” he whispered.
Fifteen minutes later Sanna stomped into the room carrying a mug of coffee. Thorén arrived soon afterwards.
“Hi everyone!” she said and found herself a seat.
There was no sign of Allan Jonsson.
THE TWO EXHAUSTED COLLEAGUES looked at each other. “Why don’t you go home?”
Javier shook his head. “If you’re going to keep working, I will too. Though I must say I’m pretty impressed with your stamina.”
Sanna smiled. “Okay, it’s up to you,” she said, punctuating her reply with a yawn, which she made no attempt to hide. “The fact that Javier and I look so tired is not because we were out partying all night. It’s because we’ve been working flat out all week on the Thom Mark and Dexter Fleming cold cases. We wanted to re-examine the crime scene photos as well as the technical and pathology reports just in case we missed an important piece of information that could perhaps help us with this investigation.
Unfortunately, the reports bring up similar questions, including doubts about where the murders were actually carried out. However, we do know that Berg wasn’t killed in his own house.”
“Why are there doubts?” interjected Blom.
“It’s impossible to draw any conclusions, because all the crime scenes were cleaned so thoroughly,” added Javier.
Sanna finished her coffee and tossed the paper cup into the waste paper bin. “But that’s just it. All we know for certain is that, except for one notable exception, everybody received the same treatment. We found two letters inserted into Konrad Berg’s penis, not one like the others.”
Segelström looked at her intently.
“What about the other victims?” said Thorén. “Was there definitely only one letter in their genitals?”
“Forensics will check it out. It’s old evidence material so let’s hope it’s in good enough condition. In the worst case there should at least be a shadow or speck suggesting a letter.”
“A shadow or a speck?” echoed Segelström.
“Yes, the letters will probably be barely visible by now. They were pretty faint to start with.”
Segelström looked satisfied.
Sanna leaned back against the chair and studied him. Had he really changed? So far, he had done exactly what was asked of him. He was showing an active interest in the investigation and had provided them with a detailed report.
“I know that some of you have already read about the Gothenburg murder investigation,” she continued. “But for those of you who haven’t done so yet, I can tell you that we had a number of theories during our investigation.
Because of the severity of his injuries and the fact that he was discovered in a compromising position with his feet and hands bound by a black leather strap, we suspected that the victim was a masochist who had fallen prey to the impulses of a particularly violent sadist.
Another theory bandied about was that the victim was bisexual and living a double life. Theory number three was that he had been the victim of a brutal hate crime.” Sanna paused and sur
veyed her team.
“Hate crime?” said Segelström disdainfully.
Javier glared at him. “This isn’t the first time I’ve heard you question the idea of a hate crime.”
Segelström turned pale. He opened his mouth to respond but Javier cut him off.
“We’re living in a society where, for many people, hate crime is an everyday reality. It’s possible, for example, that a homophobe discovered they were bisexual.”
Segelström shrugged his shoulders and looked away.
“So, shall we visit BDSM clubs too?” interjected Thorén with a glint in her eye, in an attempt to lighten the mood.
Kalle smiled at her. “That’ll be interesting.”
“Yes, we’ll also be investigating these theories in the Konrad Berg case, especially now we know that he visited those websites,” said Sanna.
Monika Lind gently nudged Javier’s arm. He opened his eyes, glanced at her sleepily and straightened up in the chair.
“What did you find out? Which theory applied to the Gothenburg victim?” asked Carl-Magnus Alkelius.
“None of them, unfortunately. Although he visited sadomasochistic and bisexual websites he wasn’t known in any of the BDSM clubs we checked out. We also talked to his wife, just in case she ever noticed anything odd about his leisure habits. Apparently he had a range of interests. He was also a member of a rock club but she didn’t know which one.”
“Nice couple,” said Thorén sarcastically, shaking her head in disbelief.
Nobody said anything for a few minutes.
Blom coughed and shifted position in his chair.
Sanna cleared her throat. “Following our search of Konrad Berg’s house we can now confirm that the victims knew each other. This means we have to find the other two club members while they’re still alive. Although Javier and I have received the essential documentation surrounding the earlier investigations we were forced to contact Gothenburg’s Violent Crime unit and colleagues who worked on the Vasastan case. If we’re going to solve the Ingarö murder and avoid another killing on our hands we must pool our resources.”
“You mean another three murders,” interjected Javier.
“I’m glad you’re on the ball, Javier!” teased Sanna. “You’re right, there are three potential victims remaining.”
“Who are they?” asked Carl-Magnus Alkelius.
“Bosse Krom, Åke Pettersson and Anton Jukka Lidman,” replied Javier, stifling a yawn.
Sanna made a note in her tablet computer and turned to speak to her newly appointed criminal investigator assistants.
“Mohamed and Monika, you keep an eye on them.”
Sanna was aware that they weren’t used to their new positions yet. However, since resources would have to be put to full use it was time to entrust them with proper assignments.
Allan Jonsson entered the room and sat down on an empty chair in the far corner. He looked harrowed.
“As I said… we’ll liaise with the teams in Gothenburg and Vasastan. They’ll get back to us if they find out anything new.”
Blom nodded slowly. “Do you think there’s any point? The investigations were suspended ages ago.”
“We’ll have to see. Anyway, it’s important to keep the door open.”
“Hmm,” said Blom, scratching the back of his head.
“Sometimes people don’t bother to report things that seem unimportant at the time and later turn out to be significant,” added Kalle.
Blom nodded again and made a note in his Filofax.
“Were there any suspects?” asked Allan Jonsson.
“No, but a lot of people were questioned, mainly BDSM members.”
Allan stared at him in silence. He leaned back in his chair and attempted to clasp his hands behind his neck but stopped halfway, grimacing in pain.
“We interviewed a number of tough guys with violent records but nothing stuck,” continued Sanna. “I wish I could say we have the situation under control but, to be honest, despite all the new evidence, we still have no idea what type of person we’re looking for.” She paused and looked at everyone around the table, her eyes finally resting on Blom. “I think we should contact the criminal profilers group.”
CHAPTER 16
And the days go by
THEIR MEETING AT STORTORGET IN GAMLA STAN turned out to be the first of many. Over time their friendship grew and they began to see each other at least once a week. Sanna appreciated Andrea’s sharp intellect and her passion for certain subjects. They had interesting intellectual exchanges and could talk for hours without either of them becoming bored.
Sanna had never told anyone about Malin, not even Kalle. One day, out of the blue and for a reason she didn’t yet understand, she confided in Andrea about her sister and the emptiness she still felt. This, in turn, had prompted Andrea to open her heart and recount her experiences as a lesbian in a society full of prejudice. At least she was happy. Although Andrea’s mother had died suddenly when she was only five years old, her father had never remarried and she had grown up in a loving home environment.
Sanna had long been aware that she needed to move on with her life. The pain of losing Malin was an undercurrent that would always affect her relationships with other people. And, even though she didn’t want to admit it, there was something about Andrea that reminded her of Malin. Maybe she viewed Andrea as a replacement for the sister who no longer needed her.
Sanna knew that Andrea was attracted to her. However, she could never reciprocate these feelings. It was important to be honest and one day she decided to come clean. Although Andrea couldn’t hide her disappointment she accepted the situation graciously. They would continue to be friends.
It was nearly ten o’clock on Saturday morning. The two women were sitting outside a restaurant on Stortorget, Gamla Stan drinking coffee. The autumn sun was shining and the square was crowded with people.
“I’m sorry I didn’t make it to the cemetery today…” said Andrea.
“You don’t need to apologize. I’m grateful that you come when you can,” replied Sanna warmly.
Sanna had admitted that she found Saturdays difficult and that sometimes, without thinking, instead of driving to the cemetery, she would automatically head out onto the motorway towards Uppsala. Andrea had offered to go with her whenever possible and this gave them a chance to spend more time together.
As usual, Andrea dominated the conversation. She talked about the recent trials she had been attending at Stockholm County Court.
“Trafficking again?” asked Sanna.
“Yes, how did you guess?” teased Andrea. “You do understand my interest in the subject, don’t you?”
“Yup, of course, but…”
“I’m fascinated to see where these trials lead but I’m mainly just curious about the people who choose to get involved in such a disgusting business. People who think they have the right to treat people like slaves and destroy their lives.” Andrea paused, waiting for Sanna’s reaction. But it was hard to read her expression. “Last week there were two girls, nine and twelve years old. As usual, the sentence was a pathetic joke. The judges had probably already made up their minds to acquit the guy even before the trial.”
Andrea took a bite out of her salad sandwich and drank the orange juice she had ordered. Sanna continued munching her sandwich. It was the same type as Andrea’s but, instead of orange juice, she was drinking a Chai latte.
“What I find most mystifying is that in nearly all the trials the focus is squarely on the defendant,” continued Andrea. “The plaintiffs – in this case the girls – were cross examined as if they had fabricated the whole thing. The defendant was actually their uncle, playing nice and innocent. After the trial was over I followed them. A woman in a car picked them up. A few minutes later another car screeched to a halt outside. Their uncle jumped into the back and they drove off immediately. I must say, the whole incident left me feeling very uneasy.”
Sanna looked at her thoughtfully. She chew
ed the last bite of her sandwich. The Chai latte was now lukewarm. She took a sip and pushed the cup aside.
“These types of trafficking cases are serious social issues that seldom end well,” warned Sanna. “I really must advise you to keep your distance. They’re dangerous people and if you’re not a cop or some sort of official you have to be very careful.”
Andrea met Sanna’s steady gaze.
“So says the policeman!” she teased. “Dear Sanna, you know I can take care of myself.”
“I know, Andrea, but I still want you to be careful. I do know what I’m talking about. I’ve had plenty of dealings with these types. They’ll stop at nothing to achieve their ends, and wouldn’t think twice about resorting to murder if someone stands in their way.”
IT HAD BEEN YET ANOTHER SLEEPLESS NIGHT. Kim had finally managed to doze off in the early hours of morning but woke again at dawn tangled up in the damp sheets. Haunted by constant nightmares, Kim could still visualise the men’s faces as clearly as if it had happened yesterday.
Kim tossed off the covers and stumbled to the bathroom. They stood under the shower, barely noticing the freezing cold water and tormented by feelings of self-loathing.
These feelings could come at any time, triggered by an event or a smell or anything else that reminded them of that day. The nightmares just made Kim more determined to annihilate the men one by one. There was no specific timetable. They would watch and wait and intervene when the time was right.
IT WAS A QUARTER PAST NINE. Sanna, Kalle and Javier were discussing their interviewing strategy and had just finished reading Thorén and Segelströms’ report, which brought up interesting connections between BDSM groups and Berg.
They had decided to bring in three sex offenders for questioning as well as a twenty nine year old man, one of the spectators at the murder scene who, according to Javier, had been noticeably agitated. The Detective Inspectors headed off down the corridor to their respective interview rooms.
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