Menace In Malmö

by Torquil Macleod

  She locked the car and glanced at her watch. It was six minutes to midday. She noticed the vans from a couple of local TV stations. Of course, Zetterberg was holding her much-heralded press conference. Her mind immediately turned to Bea Erlandsson. Had she gone and seen Larissa Bjerstedt? Anita thought she might pop in and see what had transpired. Anyhow, she should be there at the conclusion of a case she failed to help solve.

  Her mobile phone sprang into life. She didn’t recognize the number.

  ‘Anita here.’

  ‘It’s Bea. Look, I’ve been trying to get hold of Inspector Zetterberg, but she’s not answering her phone.’

  ‘She’ll be in the press conference. It’s about to start. Why?’

  ‘Blast! We’re bringing in Larissa Bjerstedt. She’s confessed.’

  ‘Confessed?’ Anita was gobsmacked.

  ‘You were right about her. She just broke down and admitted it. She can’t bear the thought of Ivar going down for the murder. She still loves him. It all started with Göran taunting her about Ivar and Carina carrying on behind her back. Said he’d heard them at it. She didn’t believe him. Anyway, she was so upset that she retaliated by blurting out about Ivar’s Björnstahl discovery. Of course, once the letter disappeared, she knew exactly who had taken it. The rest is what we thought. When she went to the beach to find the skewer, she noticed the burnt paper. She knew what had happened. She confronted Göran in the chapel. He was totally unrepentant – “Ivar got what he deserved” – and she just couldn’t help herself. Lost it. Next thing, he was dead. Or she thought he was dead.’

  ‘Well done, Bea! Look, I’d better go in and try and catch Zetterberg before it starts.’

  ‘Right, we’ll be there in a few minutes.’

  By the time Anita reached the press room, the conference was under way. She slipped in at the back. There were two TV cameras busy filming proceedings, and half a dozen photographers snapping away. And at least twenty press and radio journalists were gathered in the seats below the dais, behind a phalanx of microphones. Zetterberg had wheeled out the big guns – not only was Prosecutor Blom there, but also Commissioner Dahlbeck. He’d obviously bought some new hair dye for the occasion. He was in the process of introducing Zetterberg.

  ‘...and now I’d like to hand over to the head of our new Cold Case Group, Inspector Alice Zetterberg.’

  Alice Zetterberg leant forward confidently. She spoke clearly into the microphone, and couldn’t quite hide the self-congratulatory tone.

  ‘Thank you, Commissioner Dahlbeck. The Skåne County Police set up the Cold Case Group to look at cases that have never been solved. We wanted to show the people of Skåne that no case is ever dead; that we are always prepared to go back in and tackle old crimes by uncovering new evidence. Our role is to provide a fresh perspective on investigations that failed, be it due simply to circumstances at the time, or the fact that perhaps the original investigation, for whatever reason, wasn’t carried out rigorously enough.’ Zetterberg surveyed her audience. She spotted Anita hovering at the back of the room. ‘The murder of Göran Gösta may well fall into the latter category.’

  Zetterberg paused and pretended to consult some notes. In fact, she’d spent the previous evening rehearsing exactly what she was going to say. She wanted to make a good impression on the public as well as on her superiors. She now switched on her serious, yet emphatic voice.

  ‘My team was also very conscious that we had a debt to pay to Göran Gösta’s family – to give them the opportunity to achieve closure at long last. The details are straightforward enough. On the evening of Thursday, the twenty-seventh of July, 1995, Göran Gösta was murdered in the St. Nicolai Chapel in the village of Knäbäckshusen. During the original investigation, there were five suspects, all Gösta’s fellow ex-students of Lund University, sharing a holiday cottage. Though the police at the time singularly failed to produce a result, the team was convinced that one particular student was guilty and, though no legal action was taken against him, his name was unfortunately leaked to the press.’ Again, Zetterberg’s gaze strayed towards Anita.

  ‘I am here today to tell you that after new evidence became available, there was a thorough reinvestigation of the facts, and following exhaustive interviews of the original suspects, I can reveal that I have made an arrest. Ivar Valborg Hagblom, professor of Middle Eastern Studies at the University of Uppsala has been charged with the wilful murder of Göran Gösta.’ There was an excited stir from the audience.

  The door opened and in glided Bea Erlandsson. ‘They’d already started,’ Anita mouthed to her. Erlandsson raised her eyebrows and then made her way behind a television camera towards the dais.

  Zetterberg continued, with half an eye on the advancing Erlandsson. ‘This has not been an easy case, and I’m proud of the way that I... and my team, of course, have approached it. We’ve left no stone unturned.’ She noticed Erlandsson indicating that she wanted to say something to her privately. The potential interruption was greeted with exasperation. ‘In fact, this is one of my team,’ she couldn’t help saying petulantly. Swiftly, she regained her composure: ‘Excuse me; I will answer all your questions shortly.’

  Erlandsson nervously leaned over Zetterberg’s shoulder to whisper in her ear. Both Commissioner Dahlbeck and Prosecutor Blom showed their disapproval. Anita saw growing consternation cover Zetterberg’s features. Her eyes opened wide – she was panic-stricken. She looked around helplessly, and inadvertently, her gaze fixed on Anita – who was grinning broadly.

  NOTES

  Jacob Jonas Björnstahl (1731-1779)

  I came across a reference to the linguist, traveller, chronicler, encyclopaedist and orientalist, Jacob Jonas Björnstahl when I was doing my initial research for Menace in Malmö. It turned out I’d stumbled across a fascinating character who was incredibly well known in his day, but who is not familiar to many modern Swedes. Though he was an Uppsala contemporary of the illustrious Swedish botanist, Carl Linnaeus, and conversed on equal terms with Voltaire and Rousseau, his fame has been lost in the mists of time.

  He was born and raised in Näshulta parish just outside Eskilstuna. A memorial plaque was unveiled there on January 23rd, 1961 in the presence of Prince Wilhelm of Sweden, himself an author. It was appropriate, as Björnstahl had gained the royal patronage of King Gustav III, who sent him to Constantinople, the centre of the Ottoman Empire. He was never to return, dying in Salonika. His writings covered academic and scientific subjects, and, of course, his journeys. It was in his description of his travels to France, Italy, Switzerland, Holland, England, Turkey and Greece that I found my Malta connection and his views on the origins of the Maltese language. His unequivocal opinion on the ongoing debate was that “The Punic theory is nothing but a dream.”.

  Björnstahl was a forerunner of the evolution of a more systematic study of the Muslim world in the 18th century. Ironically, when he died at only 48, having ignored warnings not to drink the local water, he had never had the chance to visit the Arabic-speaking lands that occupied so much of his working life.

  British men trafficked to Sweden

  I was amazed to read in a British Sunday newspaper a few years ago about young British men being forced to work in Sweden. In this day and age, it seemed incredible that this slave labour could be happening in such a civilized country. As I read on, I discovered what a lucrative business it actually is for British and Irish gangs such as the fictional one run by Tyrone Cassidy.

  A BBC investigation in 2012 uncovered a number of victims; vulnerable young men who had been picked up off the streets in the UK. One young man the BBC spoke to described arriving in Malmö with two other Britons who had been homeless. They worked 14-hour days for little or no pay and lived in appalling, cramped conditions. They were too frightened to escape. He said: “I’ve seen people threatened with pickaxes. I’ve seen people kicked, punched. I’ve nearly been pushed off a moving vehicle. It’s very tense. You’re waiting for the next thing to happen.” Like others,
he had been tempted by the promise of a good wage and accommodation. Another such was a young man from Bournemouth who ended up working in Falkenberg, just north of Skåne. He was luckier because one day, three police cars pulled up and the officers said they wanted to help as they knew about their working conditions. This was his chance to escape. The bosses were arrested and stood trial but were acquitted, as under Swedish law in 2009, you had to be under lock and key to be considered to be in forced labour.

  A report in Sweden published in 2010, found 26 instances of human trafficking for non-sexual purposes. “In particular, these concern British and Irish tarmac and paving layers in Sweden.” The gangs have made good money. A confidential Swedish police report, obtained by the BBC at the time, estimated (a “conservative calculation”) that the gangs were making about £3m a year. In 2007, Norwegian police estimated traveller gangs were making more than £11m a year. Evidence suggests these gangs have also been operating in Germany, Holland and Denmark. The European Commissioner for Home Affairs, Cecilia Malmström, said at the time that she feared it was only the tip of the iceberg.

  One positive end to this depressing story is that the young man from Bournemouth decided to stay in Sweden and begin a new life.