Impact Epub

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Impact Epub Page 22

by Lourdes Daza-Gillman


  Did he paint his nails? She returned to the bedroom to look. Yes, they were painted with an almost invisible nail polish that gave a natural sheen. Holding the bottle in her hand she sat down and glared at him.

  He looked at the bottle in consternation.

  The atmosphere was tense.

  She sat in silence, barely moving and uncertain of what to do next. Suddenly, she hurried back to the kitchen, opened a drawer under the kitchen counter and took out a roll of heavy-duty grey tape and some household paper and returned to the bedroom. With sudden determination she tore off several sheets of paper, scrunched them into a ball.

  As she tried to stuff the paper into his mouth he bit down as hard as he could and shook his head violently.

  “Open your mouth, goddammit!”

  Kim climbed onto the bed and straddled him. She squeezed his nostrils and when he opened his mouth to breathe she stuffed the ball of paper down his throat and wound the tape tightly around his mouth and neck.

  Then she set to work.

  SHE SCRUBBED AND SCRUBBED almost hysterically.

  What have I done? Damn, what have I done? She paced the room. The man’s lifeless body lay on the bed, his expressionless eyes staring up at the ceiling.

  The colour drained from her face. She couldn’t think clearly; her body shook violently and her legs could barely support her.

  ”Pull yourself together, goddammit!” she said slapping her face in rage. She staggered over to the nearest chair and flopped down.

  Why… Why did she do it? She burst into wild, uncontrollable tears. She hadn’t intended to kill him but once he had recognized her she was left with no alternative; she couldn’t take the risk, he must be silenced for good.

  She had been determined to forget the whole episode and move on, but then he had tried to drug her a second time and all she could think of was her indescribable thirst for revenge. Revenge!

  It had all happened so quickly. She had acted on instinct. In full control of her senses this time, there was no way he was going to mess with her.

  Kim walked over to the window. She had promised herself not to keep reliving the event but thoughts pulsated inside her head like a ticking time bomb. Was it guilt?

  She definitely hadn’t misinterpreted his malicious intentions. He had been about to slip something into her drink but she had managed to move her beer glass out of the way just in time. Kim smiled sadly. He knew full well the potency of beer mixed with drugs.

  Kim was very careful not to leave any clues or technical evidence behind that could potentially bind her to the scene. She had gone around the entire cottage with a bottle of chlorine in one hand and a rag in the other, thoroughly wiping clean any surface where she might have left fingerprints. She also vacuumed every room and deposited the dust bag with the rest of the rubbish into a plastic bag, which she stuffed into her rucksack. Nothing would be left to chance.

  There was a theory that a criminal always kept a token from the scene of their crime and always left something behind. But not in this case – she would discard the plastic bag before climbing aboard the train back to Stockholm.

  Kim made a mental analysis of all the nooks and crannies in the cottage then closed the door behind her and left the property.

  After a couple of hundred metres she remembered the car. She turned back and made her way towards the vehicle, opened the passenger door and wiped the seat and floor and everything she might have touched.

  THE PATH WAS STONY AND NARROW and edged by thick woodland. In the darkness all she could hear were crickets and owls and the leaves of the asp trees swaying in the breeze like instruments playing a symphony.

  She was grateful to technology – without the GPS app on her iPhone she would never have found her way. Luckily, the man also had a navigation system in his car, which enabled her to trace their route as they were driving to the cottage.

  The best way back to Malmö was along the road they came, even though it was by far the longest. She had never been in the area before and walking through the forest would be much too risky. In addition, the technology on her phone might not work due to bad reception.

  She was physically fit and regularly jogged twenty kilometres so this wasn’t the first time she had covered such a vast distance.

  Exhausted and miserable, she finally arrived back in civilization three hours later.

  Buildings lined the road. Under the clear sky stood rows of houses that appeared to have been designed by the same architect. All that distinguished one house from another were the plants in the gardens. Despite her dejected state of mind she remembered noticing these details. She used to joke about her ability to observe things around her and explain that it was an occupational hazard.

  Further along was the town centre, consisting of a small supermarket, petrol station and two rows of bus stops separated by Plexiglas. A few early birds sat on benches waiting for a bus. She checked the timetable and discovered that one to Malmö Central Station was arriving soon.

  CHAPTER 42

  Not surprising

  FOR MOST OF THE EVENING and a significant part of the night, Sanna Johansson was focused on preparing the technical report. There were currently four victims and two common denominators. All of them were involved in BDSM and known by the police to have violent tendencies. This information had taken a while to surface since, for some strange reason, it wasn’t available to all investigators.

  The Malmö victim was the mystery third man in the photograph found in Aron Alvik’s cottage, who had now been identified as Anton Jukka Lidman.

  It had been an ordeal ascertaining the identities of the men who met at the shooting range. The owner had excused himself due to serious health problems, explaining that he had been admitted to hospital in Thailand. All documents concerning the members of the club were locked in a safe and he was the only one with a key. However, as things stood, this was no longer of interest.

  Stina Haag’s disclosure about Aron Alvik’s activities had been a welcome bonus to the investigation and Sanna intended to bring it up in her next interview with him. She was also anxious to find the victim whom Stina Haag claimed to have seen with her own eyes.

  Apart from these leads, there were a number of other unresolved issues – several loose threads and a few debriefings the investigators had not yet managed to get round to. Sanna hoped that someone other than Konrad Berg had been using extortion because then they might be able to find a motivation for the crime.

  She continued working on the report. Her attempts to trace Konrad Berg’s activities through his bank transactions had been unsuccessful. Berg, like the other victims, always paid in cash and the only transactions they had been able to trace were weekly ATM withdrawals.

  Moreover, because the families had moved, the scheduled raids of Thom Mark and Dexter Fleming’s homes had not been implemented.

  As if that wasn’t enough, the search of Aron Alvik’s cottage turned up nothing, which was not entirely unexpected. The apartment was clinically clean, just like the crime scene on Ingarö. The confiscated DVDs proved to be another disappointment. They showed detailed sex scenes of a group of people who, unfortunately, were impossible to identify. The actors were dressed from head to toe in black plastic costumes and Aron Alvik had stubbornly insisted that he didn’t know anyone at the shoot.

  Sanna continued browsing through the report and took a last bite of the sandwich she had grabbed on the way to work. She had skipped breakfast in order to make it in on time.

  “We don’t yet have the situation under control… We have four bodies and no culprit. We’re still waiting for an answer from Malmö.”

  The prosecutor burst in and sat down opposite Sanna. “Sorry I’m late. Damn traffic!”

  “What’s Malmö bringing to the table?” asked Blom.

  “Two leather belts were used to tie up the victim in Malmö. Indications are that the murderer was improvising and it is likely they used their own belt as well,” she said, finishing her
coffee. ”According to the pathologist, one of the belts could belong to a woman.”

  They all stared at her.

  “When do we get the technical report?” asked Alkelius.

  “We’ve received the medical report, we’re just waiting for the trace analysis from Forensics.”

  Blom locked eyes with Sanna. “Hopefully the analysis of the leather belts will lead us to the murderer”.

  Anders Segelström leaned back in his chair and crossed his legs. “We got nothing from the leather straps on the other victims,” he said. “It seems they were manufactured solely for bondage purposes. I suspect that was to ensure they didn’t tear.”

  Javier stared at him. “What do we know about the murder on Tyresö?”

  “A lot,” replied Allan Jonsson. “We received a detailed report from Forensics.”

  “Hey, wait a minute, we haven’t finished yet!” interrupted Anders Segelström.

  “Then tell us what you’ve figured out so far and what you plan to do next,” said Sanna sternly.

  Allan opened his mouth to say something, but Segelström beat him to it.

  “Well, as you know, we’ve received the report from NFC. Apparently the victim is Bosse Krom, and not Joseph Dahl Krom as we originally thought.”

  “Joseph Dahl Krom?” said the prosecutor.

  “Yeah, the murder took place in his apartment. We now know that he’s Bosse Krom’s cousin and had been renting the apartment from him, although the actual owner has been working in England for two years.”

  Allan Jonsson didn’t like Segelström’s habit of continuously interrupting him, and as soon as the group fell silent he took the opportunity to speak. “There was a letter inserted into Bosse Krom’s penis, just like the other victims”.

  “What letter?” asked Javier.

  “The letter ‘s’”

  “An ‘s’?” repeated Kalle. “What about Malmö? Were there any letters in Jukka’s genitalia?”

  “They found something,” said Sanna. “But, according to the coroner there were skin particles stuck to the paper so they’ve sent it for further analysis. They promised us a report this week.”

  Thorén, who had been busy taking notes, pointed at the whiteboard. “Keeping in mind that the technical examination is still pending, I’d like to suggest that the letters form the word “rapist”, she said. “We have all the letters except ‘r’. Except for Konrad Berg all the victims had one letter…so I’m proposing that we’ll find the first letter on the Malmö victim.”

  “Of course! All the victims were raped!” Javier agreed.

  “I doubt the message being conveyed is that the victims themselves were raped,” interjected Kalle. “I’m more and more convinced that this is about revenge. Somebody had a specific reason to murder them. We’ll just have to wait for the results from Malmö.”

  “And what’s the basis for your suspicions?” asked Segelström.

  “Well, for a start this doesn’t involve a robbery or a breakin. The crime scenes were well organised and clean. Without a shadow of doubt I believe that the victims were chosen beforehand. Moreover, we know that the victims all practiced BDSM and were members of a shooting club. I wouldn’t be surprised if the murderer was also a member of the group.”

  Segelström stared at Kalle, but said nothing.

  Thorén and Javier concurred with Kalle. This was a debate nobody wanted to get involved in – the subject had been discussed enough already.

  There was a brief silence followed by the odd banal comments. Sanna walked over to the whiteboard, which had been updated with details of the latest murder.

  “Two to go…” she said, pointing at the names of Aron Alvik and Åke Pettersson.

  “What do you mean?” asked the prosecutor.

  “Two more possible victims,” clarified Kalle. “Aron Alvik contacted us yesterday and admitted to knowing all the victims previously. He was very upset about it and said that lately he’s been feeling threatened, as if somebody’s watching him. He’s scared and is convinced he’s next in line.”

  “Threatened in what way?” Blom wondered.

  “He says he saw a ‘weird man’ – a guy with a hoodie – standing in front of his house,” explained Kalle.” In the beginning he didn’t take much notice, but the more he thought about it the more it bothered him. Four of his friends have been murdered. It stands to reason that the killer’s after him too and he couldn’t just stand around and wait, doing nothing.”

  “Why didn’t he contact us earlier?” Blom asked.

  “Yeah, that’s what I asked him. But at first he didn’t think there was any point contacting the police. A week later he became more and more anxious and couldn’t sleep. He felt unsafe in the apartment so he moved to his summer house, a property that used to belong to his late father.”

  Javier, who was rocking in his chair, cleared his throat. “So that’s why the search of his apartment didn’t lead anywhere.”

  Sanna locked eyes with him. “There might be something in that. This could be an opportunity to pressure him to tell us what he knows. Kalle, make sure Alvik shows up for an interview. Tomorrow or Monday at the latest.”

  “I suppose that’s necessary, but we have to wrap this case up soon,” said Alkelius, fidgeting in his chair.

  “We can’t do that unless we find the murderer,” countered Javier.

  Around the table there was silence again.

  Blom stared at Alkelius. Thorén continued writing on her laptop.

  “Do you have anything else to report?” Sanna turned to Segelström. “Anything interesting apart from the already known modus operandi?”

  Segelström hesitated. He turned the pages of the report and shook his head. “No, that’s all for now.”

  “You’re sure about that?”

  Segelström reddened and turned the pages of the report again. “Yeah, I can’t think of anything else.”

  Sanna was barely able to suppress her irritation. “As far as I’m concerned, there’s a potentially crucial piece of information that could lead us to the murderer. This particular Taser has a unique defect.”

  “What? I don’t know anything about that,” insisted Segelström, small beads of perspiration visible on his upper lip.

  “What’s the problem here?” exclaimed Blom, noticing Sanna’s irritation.

  “I haven’t got a clue. Johansson seems to know more than I do. It appears that she has a parallel investigation going on. And here was I thinking I was responsible for this case,” continued Segelström cockily.

  Sanna stared at him. “That’s exactly why I’m giving you the opportunity to report on your findings. But as usual it seems you’re withholding important information!”

  Blom eyes moved back and forth between Sanna and Segelström. “What’s going on?”

  Sanna gave Anders Segelström an icy stare. He remained stubbornly impassive.

  “I talked to the forensic pathologist in Solna and she filled me in on a very important detail, something which you, Anders, have also been informed of. The Taser used by the killer has a defect – hopefully a unique one – which caused it to leave a deeper burn mark than usual in a specific place. I’ve asked SKL to find out if the other victims have similar burns.”

  “You keep saying Taser…do you mean a stun gun?” asked the prosecutor.

  “That’s right”, said Sanna.

  “What’s going on?” exclaimed Blom.

  There was a general murmur of disbelief among the participants.

  CHAPTER 43

  An important event

  THE BIG DAY WAS APPROACHING, and she was mulling over the potential risks in keeping hold of all the investigation material and potentially exposing what she had done. She imagined the worst case scenario if the final mission backfired. She should probably get rid of the material before it was too late. Kim grabbed the keys and locked the door from the inside. She walked over to the window and closed the curtains.

  She had already moved the b
ookcase aside. She entered the secret room and contemplated the material she had collected over the years. The rows of folders on the bookshelf were classified by subject number, month and year. It was clear she had everything under control. However, the material was also evidence of her affiliation with questionable people.

  She took a deep breath and started pulling out the folders one by one, ripping out the pages without bothering to glance at what was inside. Although she hadn’t recorded the men’s names and social security numbers she still wanted to make sure there was no other incriminating information.

  Time passed. After three hours of intense, uninterrupted work she finally called it quits. However, there was one notable exception, one file that she hadn’t destroyed. She stared intently at it. Unlike the others, this one only a few pages. It was labelled ‘Subject 1’ and contained details about the man from Umeå.

  She remembered how laborious it had been piecing together information about him. She didn’t believe in coincidence, but one day just when she was about to throw in the towel, the course she was planning to attend in Stockholm was relocated to Umeå. And it was there she finally found Åke Pettersson.

  Even thinking about it caused her to break out in a cold sweat – she couldn’t deny that he was her greatest challenge. Confronting Pettersson would be anything but child’s play – definitely not as straightforward as the previous subjects. As well as being strong and powerfully built, Subject 1 was accustomed to being top dog and tended to look down at the people he associated with, characteristics that gave him a psychological edge.

  During her fact-finding mission she had become obsessed with Pettersson. He had had a difficult childhood. Hours after his birth he was placed with a foster family. He remained there for a number of years, trapped in a loveless environment with several other children. When he was five years old his high-strung personality began to create problems and he was moved around from one foster home to the other. One day, when he was sixteen, he met Raino Cederberg, who took a liking to him and became his guardian and mentor.

 

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