Meet me in Malmö: The first Inspector Anita Sundström mystery (Inspector Anita Sundström mysteries)

by MacLeod, Torquil

  Mick flicked away his cigarette. It glowed momentarily on the rock-hard ground. ‘So did I. We both joined the judo club at the same time.’

  When she was detailing the main points of evidence to this third party - albeit the most interested party in the case – she could see how flimsy it all appeared. The case against Ewan Strachan was not strong.

  ‘We can’t find a motive,’ she said, almost apologetically.

  Mick took out of his coat pocket an expensive silver cigarette lighter and absently flicked it on and off. Little shoots of flame reared up and then were immediately extinguished. Anita had no idea what was on his mind.

  He put the lighter away. ‘I can provide you with one.’

  CHAPTER 29

  ‘Debbie Usher.’

  It was as though Anita had given Ewan an electric shock. All colour drained from his face. For a moment his eyes bulged and he looked around the bare room wildly as though he was trying to find an escape route. There wasn’t one. The huge figure of Chief Inspector Moberg sitting opposite him was the most obvious obstacle

  ‘How do you know about her?’ His question was barely audible.

  ‘Tell us about Durham and Debbie Usher,’ Anita urged.

  The fact that Moberg was sitting in on the interrogation was a bone of contention with Westermark. He had done the background checking on Ewan Strachan and felt he should be in there. Moberg brusquely overruled him at the meeting they had had an hour before. Once Anita had told them about her conversation with Roslyn, Westermark was even more convinced that the journalist was their killer. He didn’t bother disguising his venom when discussing him. He had reported that the search of the computer hadn’t thrown up anything significant. ‘Hasn’t even any porn on there, so he’s probably a poof,’ he said with a knowing glance at Anita.

  Afterwards, by the coffee machine, Westermark had collared Anita.

  ‘I saw Strachan’s articles he had written about the case. He makes it sound like you were the only one working on it. He must love you,’ he said nastily. ‘Trying to get into your knickers?’

  Anita was feeling uncomfortable, but it didn’t stop her hitting back. ‘Not likely if he’s a poof!’

  That reptilian smile appeared again as she was attempting to move away from the machine with a coffee in her hand.

  ‘I found something else. Your email address.’

  ‘What of it? I suspect your email address book is full of journalists’ contacts. I’m sure that bimbo on the Sydsvenska Dagbladet is in there.’

  ‘I bet you’re better in bed than she is.’

  ‘Were you born a creep or did you have to work at it?’

  ‘But your boyfriend started to write you an email last night. It was in the draft section. Thanking you for the “wonderful evening”.’

  This wasn’t something Anita had expected or wanted to hear, and definitely not from a snake like Westermark.

  ‘Is that why you were soft on him in the interrogation?’

  Anita was furious that her professional integrity was being questioned.

  ‘I did my job properly in there. Just because you were acting like a testosteroned tosser.’

  Westermark ignored the insult. ‘I don’t know what you got up to,’ the insinuation was clear, ‘but it puts you in a difficult position, Anita. You’re interrogating someone who you’ve just had a “wonderful evening” with. If the boss gets wind of this you’ll be straight off the case.’

  ‘And will he get wind of it?’ Anita challenged.

  ‘That depends. Maybe if you were more accommodating? I wouldn’t say no to having a “wonderful evening” with you.’

  ‘Karl, you are the biggest piece of shit I’ve ever come across.’

  She stormed off to her room. When she shut the door behind her she was breathing heavily. She knew she had made a real enemy.

  Ewan had retreated into his mug of coffee before he spoke. ‘You must have got that from Mick.’ Anita nodded confirmation. ‘It was the first time I’d been away from home. At Durham. It was all so exhilarating.’ He manipulated the mug with his fingers. ‘And Mick was exciting. Women flocked to him. He was very handsome. Still is.’

  ‘What is this having to doing with this girl?’ interrupted Moberg exasperatedly. He was anxious to get to the detail. Anita wished he would belt up for a change: they’d get what they wanted if they were patient.

  Anger flared in Ewan’s eyes as he regarded the massive chief inspector. ‘Because you will not understand.’ He spoke the words with fierce deliberation. ‘You will not understand unless you know things.’

  Moberg held up his hands in acknowledgement.

  Ewan’s gaze returned to the mug. ‘The girls loved him. He loved them…then left them. I fed off the scraps from the great man’s table. When Mick entered the room at a party every head turned. I trotted along behind. Don’t get me wrong, I didn’t mind in the least. I basked in his reflected glory. For two years. After the first year we lived out of college. We moved into a house together. We shared it with another guy. Trevor from Bristol. Have no idea where he is now. Bristol probably.’

  Anita could feel Moberg growing fidgety beside her. Though his English wasn’t very good he could understand more than he could speak. Yet some of what Ewan was saying would be going straight over his head.

  ‘It was the end of our second year,’ Ewan continued. ‘Summer term. Amazingly, I found myself at a party without Mick. But Debbie was there. Oh, she was. Even in my inebriated state I could see she was something special. Not in an obvious way. She wasn’t drop-dead gorgeous. But she was pretty. Long, rich red hair. Real red, not ginger like mine.’ Ewan suddenly glanced up at Moberg. ‘Ever fallen in love at first sight?’ Moberg was taken aback at being put on the spot. He shook his head, as though Ewan was mad.

  Ewan smiled to himself. ‘Funnily enough, I can’t see Swedes doing that. You’re too damn practical a nation.’ His eyes caught Anita’s. She tried not to flush as she used her notes as an excuse not to engage his stare.

  ‘Love finds you in the most unexpected places. It jumps out and grabs you by the throat.’ Ewan turned his attention back to Moberg. ‘A bad choice of metaphor in the circumstances. But that is what happened that night in the chaplaincy. And do you know what the most extraordinary thing was?’

  Moberg and Anita were both now feeling awkward, for different reasons. Moberg hated men talking about their emotions, unless it concerned football. Anita realized that Ewan’s feelings were strong and genuine and that she had been the target of them until the arrest. Neither answered.

  ‘Debbie felt the same about me. I couldn’t believe it. She liked me… loved me for what I was. I wasn’t smart, or witty. And certainly not sexy. Just average. But that was enough for her. It was so good after that. We had a fantastic summer together. Travelled around Europe on one of those student rail cards. France, Italy, Greece. Best time of my life. The next term we moved in together. It was a horrible little student flat in a grotty terraced house, but I didn’t care. Life couldn’t get any better. But it couldn’t last.’

  ‘Why not? Anita found herself asking. ‘You said you loved each other.’

  ‘Ah, you forget Mick. And no one is allowed to forget Mick.’

  ‘So what did Mick do?’ Anita found herself being sucked into taking sides. Ewan versus Mick.

  ‘Nothing at first. He was fine. I thought he was even pleased for me that I had found someone. But the more he met Debbie, the more he discovered how special she was. She was a genuine person. No side to her.’

  ‘This I am not understanding.’ Moberg was struggling again.

  ‘She didn’t think badly of people. Unlike the police, she only saw the good in everyone.’ Even Moberg had to smile.

  ‘You may find it hard to believe, but I was a bit like that, too. I was just being naïve. Pathetically naïve. Anyway, because Debbie never showed any interest in Mick, he began to see her as a challenge. Men like that do. The thrill of the chase. Suddenly he was al
ways coming round to the flat. Sometimes I’d come back and he was there, talking to her.’

  ‘You were jealous?’ Anita was struck by the inevitability of his tale.

  ‘Strangely, not at first. Pride at first. I had something that Mick wanted. But then pride was replaced by irritation, and irritation by jealousy. Deep, gut-wrenching jealousy. Ever felt that? I became nervous whenever Mick appeared. I suddenly became tongue-tied. His jokes were effortless, mine were forced. My confidence drained. It was so corrosive. I got edgy, moody. Debbie and I started arguing about the silliest of things. Stupid stuff.’

  Ewan took a gulp of his coffee. It tasted horrible, but he needed something to break the spell of despair he was recreating in his head. He pushed the mug away. ‘Then the inevitable happened. I came back from a lecture early because I had forgotten to take an essay in. Debbie and Mick… I’m sure I don’t have to paint a picture for you. That was the end.’

  ‘It was not the end.’

  Ewan’s eyes searched Anita’s face for sympathy. He needed help right now. She sat impassively. How could she be so unmoved?

  ‘No. It wasn’t the end. Debbie…Debbie moved out and shacked up with Mick. I didn’t ask why she had done it. I knew the answer already. But once Mick had made his conquest he lost interest and dumped her.’

  ‘Did you see her again?’

  ‘Once.’ Anita could see he was now close to tears. She hoped he wouldn’t break down in front of Moberg. ‘Well, I didn’t actually see her. Debbie came round to the flat. She wanted to talk to me.’ His voice lowered and became ragged as he forced the words out. ‘I wouldn’t let her in. She cried and screamed outside the door, but I wouldn’t open it. She kept saying how sorry she was. I couldn’t face her. She had betrayed me, and I could never forgive that. Everything between us had been destroyed.’

  Ewan’s head slumped into hands. ‘God, I should have opened…’

  Anita and Moberg watched him fighting his demons. But Moberg wasn’t going to give him any respite. ‘This Debbie? What happened to her?’

  ‘To Debbie?’ Ewan sounded surprised by the question. The answer that came out was very matter-of-fact. ‘Debbie jumped off the main tower of Durham Cathedral.’

  ‘And you blamed Mick?’ Anita was now back to her most businesslike.

  ‘Of course I did!’ His voice was raised and reverberated round the enclosed room. ‘Wouldn’t you? I blamed Debbie, too, for giving in to him. In some ways her sin was worse. But it was Mick who destroyed us.’

  ‘It gives you a strong motive to kill Malin. His woman for your woman.’

  Ewan was startled by the accusation. ‘Wait! No. It’s not. It happened well over twenty years ago. If I was going to do something I would have done it then. Why wait until now?’

  ‘Opportunity. You admitted to me that you had lost touch with Mick after university. Maybe this was your first chance to get even. You might not have planned it. I’m sure you didn’t. But suddenly you get the chance of revenge. Mick was away. Malin was alone, which you established by the phone call you failed to tell us about. You could have slipped out of the hotel at any time. Inspector Westermark has checked out the side door round from Carlsgatan. Maybe she actually invited you round. When you get there she offers you a cup of tea. You do drink tea in the evening. Even in Newcastle United cups, a team you and Mick support. Suddenly you have an opportunity, after all this time. All that resentment that had been welling up for years. The way that you have described the events at Durham, they are obviously still raw, despite the years. Here was a chance to even the score.’

  Ewan’s mouth had dropped open as she catalogued the case against him. He couldn’t speak, but just kept shaking his head from side to side.

  ‘Malin turns her back on you to boil the kettle. You did judo at university, so a chokehold is not difficult for you. And, as we know, you have used that grip before. You have a history of violence.’

  ‘No, no, no, no, no, no.’

  ‘You drag the body out of the kitchen into the living room and place it on the sofa. Mick is meant to find it in the morning. Sitting there, lifeless. Like a trophy. Then maybe you were disturbed. We know Halvar Mednick went in and found the body. Were you still in the apartment? Or hiding on the stairwell and watching him go in before slipping out of the building? Anyway, your ploy does not work out because Mick is not there when you arrive. But you think quickly. You go in and it gives you the chance to touch the body, so that there will be an explanation for your fibres and prints when they are found, as they would inevitably be. That is why Mick attacked you. He must have had an instinct that you had killed her, and exactly why you had done it.’

  ‘Look, you’ve got this all wrong.’

  Westermark saw Anita returning to her office. He wondered how best to get back at Anita. The stuck-up bitch. Her accent, her polished English, her attitude to him all drove him mad. Yet she was a challenge. Women did not turn him down, even if they tried to. What made it worse with Anita was his desire for her. The need to conquer her. He fantastized about them fucking. And it was definitely fucking and not making love. She was all woman, and with a body that had matured to a peak. He was fed up with screwing all those young tarts that he picked up at clubs and bars. They were easy. Anita was special. The glasses, too, made her even sexier in his eyes. He would insist she kept them on when he got round to having his evil way.

  But she had rejected him out of hand and she had to pay. He knew the best way. He had observed how Strachan looked at her. And Anita’s unease confirmed that she might have feelings for him. He would ensure that the prick would go down for the murder, despite any efforts Anita might make to save him. He was guilty anyhow. That wasn’t just down to his natural antagonism towards anyone whom Anita showed an interest in, but because he was convinced that Strachan had killed Malin Lovgren.

  ‘Well, you didn’t beat about the bush,’ Moberg said approvingly when they met in his office afterwards. A sullen Westermark and a bright-eyed Olander were also there and Moberg had given them the gist of what had happened. This cheered Westermark up.

  ‘So it’s obviously him.’

  ‘According to Anita it is,’ said Moberg as he flipped open the large pizza box that had been brought in for him.

  Westermark shot Anita a susprised look.

  ‘But do you think he did it?’ said Moberg, who was sizing up his meal.

  ‘Strachan certainly has given us the rope to hang him. He volunteered the information about the judo and he served up a motive on a plate. Would you do that if you’re guilty? And he still doesn’t want a lawyer. To tell you the truth, I just don’t know.’

  Moberg took a slice. ‘The trouble is that we can’t place him at the murder scene on the night.’ He didn’t bother to offer any pizza around.

  ‘We need a confession,’ Westermark hissed.

  ‘Without one we still haven’t got enough to take to the prosecutor. Blom will go berserk when we tell her that Mednick’s not guilty. She doesn’t like being made a fool of in public. The commissioner’s even worse. We’ll all pay the price, so we had better make sure any case we have is watertight.’

  ‘I’m still not sure that the Debbie Usher story is complete,’ said Anita. ‘What happened to her could be the key to this case. Just now I’ve been onto the Durham Constabulary, but they haven’t many details of the case as it was years ago. Filed as a suicide. But I have the name of the detective who looked into it. He’s retired now, but he still lives in the area.’

  Moberg finished chewing his first piece of pizza. In a sudden burst of guilt, he pushed the pizza box into the middle of the desk. ‘Help yourselves.’ Westermark and Olander tentatively reached over and took a slice each.

  ‘Right. If you can get hold of this ex-detective get on a flight tomorrow and find out the full story. I don’t even know where this Durham place is. Is it near London?’

  ‘No. It’s in north-east England. Not too far from Scotland.’

  ‘There are flig
hts over there, aren’t there?’ he asked doubtfully.

  ‘Daily from Kastrup to Newcastle.’

  Moberg picked up his second slice. ‘Ok, that covers that angle. I’m still waiting to hear from Henrik up in Stockholm on the Andreas Tapper car crash. What else have we?’

  ‘Bengt Valquist,’ Anita suggested.

  ‘The business partner. Is he a serious contender?’

  Anita nodded to Olander. This was his chance to impress. ‘He had opportunity. No alibi for the time of the murder. And he had a motive. Two actually. One, Roslyn was playing around with his girlfriend. Secondly, and the strongest, was talk of Malin wanting to push him out of the company.’

  ‘Right. Let’s shake him up a bit. I think that’s a job for you, Westermark. Olander, you can go along with him. It’ll give you an insight into another kind of policing.’ Anita knew what that would entail.

  Ewan lay on his cell bed. His head was swimming. He was too frightened to succumb to a panic attack. How the hell was he going to get out of this?

  CHAPTER 30

  Anita turned the car onto the sliproad of the A1, which skirted round the south of Newcastle. This was Ewan territory. He should have been working here today but, instead, was sitting in a cell in the polishus in Malmö. She couldn’t make her mind up whether he should be locked up or not. He didn’t look like a killer. Then again, killers rarely do, except in televison dramas. She had found the interrogations hard. This was a man whom she was beginning to like. She had enjoyed his company. And she knew that he had probably been in love with her, or thought he was. The beseeching looks he had directed at her were enough to make her wince inwardly. She had wanted to say that she would do her best to give him the benefit of the doubt. He would get a fair hearing from her, even if not from the likes of Westermark, who had obviously made up his mind. When she had gone through her scenario of the night of the murder, Ewan had appeared dazed. Shattered. She couldn’t help but feel a tinge of guilt. She knew she shouldn’t because she was only doing her job. She crossed over the River Tyne and past the concrete mass of the Metrocentre. As the road swept up a gradual incline away from the Tyneside conurbation, she saw the Angel of the North; its powerful, rust-coloured, metallic aeroplane wings opened wide in welcome to those arriving in the region. How many times had Ewan passed this spot? Anita wondered. And what was the point of her visit to ex-Inspector Gazzard anyway? Maybe he could throw some fresh light on the feud between Ewan and Mick Roslyn. Was Debbie Usher really the catalyst for Malin’s murder? But would that help them convict Ewan? If nothing else, the trip would give her an excuse to visit Durham again, but after visiting Inspector Gazzard. He lived on the edge of an old pit village about five miles west of the old cathedral city. If the case against Ewan was to be proved, then Gazzard might confirm the motive. Was part of her hoping that he wouldn’t?