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

by MacLeod, Torquil

  ‘Ok, I’ll get straight onto that.’ Anita found Olander’s enthusiasm refreshing. ‘What are you going to do?’

  Anita was scrambling inside her bag in search of her snus. With a triumphant flourish she produced it.

  ‘I’m going to ring Henrik Nordlund. I need him to make sure Tilda Tegner doesn’t contact Mick Roslyn.’

  ‘Why?’

  She had the tin unscrewed and a sachet popped into her mouth before replying. ‘Because I think that herr Strachan may be right.’

  Anita stood on the freezing platform. Olander brought her a coffee in a paper cup. Both were very tired. Anita had sent Olander off home at three and she had slipped into bed at five. The young police assistant had been a very useful sounding board as she had sifted through the facts and speculation to come up with a coherent case. But it would mean nothing without the discussion she needed to have in the next half hour, if the first train out of Stockholm was on time. It was. 9.56 a.m.

  Among the wave of travellers sweeping in their direction was the familiar stooped figure of Nordlund with an anxious looking Tilda Tegner. She was dressed casually in black boots, jeans, a long turquoise coat and matching beret. Anita greeted them. ‘Hi Henrik.’ He smiled wearily back. ‘Thank you for coming down, fröken Tegner.’ Tilda didn’t reply.

  ‘Are we taking fröken Tegner to the polishus?’ asked Nordlund.

  ‘We’re here to do that. The chief inspector says you should go home and get sorted out before coming in.’ Olander flashed her a surprised glance.

  Nordlund didn’t question her, though he shot her a doubtful look. He fished out of his coat pocket a brightly coloured mobile phone and handed it over to Anita. ‘Fröken Tegner’s. Roslyn tried to ring her three times last night and left one text. He wanted her to ring him.’

  ‘Can I have it back?’

  ‘You can have it when we’ve finished talking.’ Anita slipped the mobile into her bag and wondered whether she would ever be able to find it again.

  On leaving the station Anita didn’t take Tegner towards the polishus but crossed the road to where the old Copenhagen ferry used to run in the days before the Öresund Bridge opened. The dock remained, though it served no function other than a waterscape for the elongated glass expanse of the new Malmö University education department. Students trailed in and out of the university building opposite. The water rippled in the wind. Black clouds scudded overhead.

  ‘Am I under arrest?’ asked Tegner.

  ‘No. You are helping police with their inquiries.’

  ‘So why are we here?’

  Olander was wondering that, too. He only hoped that Anita knew what she was doing because the chief inspector had no idea what was going on here. When Moberg did find out, he’d make sure he wasn’t in the vicinity.

  ‘A little chat.’

  Tegner pulled out a packet of cigarettes and nervously lit up. The smoke she blew out mingled with her cold breath. The cigarette seemed to give her courage as she pointed it aggressively at Anita. ‘It was your fault.’

  ‘What was my fault?’

  ‘Bengt. Bengt’s death.’ Anita had had a pang of guilt when she first heard about the suicide. ‘It was you who told him.’ This came out as an accusing shriek. A couple of passing students glanced over.

  ‘You slept with Mick Roslyn. I didn’t. You went behind your partner’s back. I didn’t. You betrayed Bengt. I didn’t.’

  Anita’s words acted like a slap in the face. Tegner turned away, tears stinging her eyes. ‘Tilda,’ Anita’s voice softened. ‘I need to know about that Monday night.’

  Tegner stared towards the water. ‘You know about that night.’

  ‘You said you were in Stockholm.’

  ‘That’s right, we were.’

  ‘That’s not what Mick told me. He said you were here in Malmö.’

  Olander’s mouth dropped open. Tegner spun round. ‘Why should he tell you that? Why did he tell you about us in the first place?’

  ‘He told me because it’s true, isn’t it?’

  Tegner sucked hard on her cigarette. With the other hand she wiped away a tear. Then she nodded.

  ‘Where did you spend the night?’

  ‘An apartment in Mäster Johansgatan. It belongs to one of Mick’s friends. He borrowed it for the night.’

  ‘Were you there all night?’

  She shook her head. ‘Mick got a flight down that afternoon. He came straight to the apartment and got there about five. I left about eleven.’ Anita and Olander exchanged meaningful looks. ‘I drove overnight to Stockholm.’

  ‘I can’t understand why you just didn’t meet up in Stockholm.’

  She gave a mirthless laugh. ‘I think it gave Mick a thrill to do it with Malin and Bengt so close. It was also easier for me because Bengt was becoming very possessive. He might even have suspected us. He knew that Mick was supposed to have a meeting up there and was taking an early flight down here. And I was supposed to be driving north after leaving him in Lund, so, in theory, we wouldn’t have had time to hitch up.’

  Tegner’s smoke was getting to Anita. She got out her snus tin. ‘Do you know why Mick asked Strachan to come to Malmö instead of Stockholm?’

  ‘He knew it would make life easier for Strachan. They have direct flights between Kastrup and Newcastle. Mick’s used the service a number of times when he’s gone back to visit his parents.’

  Anita pondered this information as she took her snus. ‘Ok. We need you to come with us to make an official statement. Mats will see to that.’

  Tegner flicked her cigarette into the dock and it hissed as it hit the water. Olander raised his eyebrows at Anita and smiled.

  ‘Oh, this is yours, Tilda.’ Anita handed over Tegner’s mobile. ‘Don’t use it until you’ve left the polishus.’

  CHAPTER 33

  The cell door was opened. Every time it was unlocked a little hope stirred, usually to be crushed as another meal was brought in. But this time it was Anita. She looked like death warmed up. Ewan was mighty pleased to see her, as she was his only possible route out of this madness.

  ‘Have you any news?’

  She ignored his question and went straight into one of her own. ‘What makes you think Mick set you up?’

  Ewan sat down slowly. ‘I’ve had plenty of time to think while enjoying your Swedish hospitality. At first I just wondered about the timing of my arrival and Malin’s murder. All very convenient. And then Mick turns up late at the flat and it’s me who’s found with the body. Fortunately, you didn’t immediately jump to the conclusion that I’d done it – not then anyway!’

  Ewan waited as he concentrated on ordering his thoughts. He had to get this right. ‘When you did get round to suspecting me you couldn’t find a motive. Then who conveniently supplies one? My old mate Mick, of course.’ He paused thoughtfully. ‘I tell you what keeps coming back to me.’ Anita shrugged. ‘His fucking film. That Gässen thing.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Seen it?’ Anita shook her head. ‘In the film, the husband murders his wife so that he can carry on with his mistress. The wife, played by Malin Lovgren, is strangled by the husband. The “other woman” is acted by Tilda Tegner, who just happens to be Mick’s mistress. Recognize the scenario?’

  ‘It’s only a film.’

  ‘That’s not it really. What strikes me about this whole business is that it’s been stage-managed. From the moment I was invited over to Malmö. I think he’s been after me from the beginning.’

  ‘He supplied us with other lines of inquiry first.’

  ‘If they had come to anything, would I be here?’

  Anita had to admit that he had a point.

  Suddenly Ewan banged his fist on the newspaper and made Anita jump. ‘Mick’s a film director, for Chrissake! He manipulates people, he manipulates their emotions, he manipulates situations. He does manipulation! And he does it brilliantly!’

  Anita knew there would be trouble when she saw Nordlund sitting in Moberg’s off
ice. The distorted features on Moberg’s angry face left nothing to the imagination. When Westermark came in behind her she felt as though she had walked into a trap. She had hoped to catch Moberg alone.

  ‘Henrik hasn’t dropped you in it, because he’s not that sort of man.’ Nordlund grimaced apologetically. ‘But I was wondering why you asked him to come back down here with Tilda Tegner without me knowing. I was under the impression that I was running this fucking investigation!’

  Anita kept calm. She held up a piece of paper. ‘This is why.’

  It stopped Moberg abruptly just as he was about to launch into another blast of invective. ‘What’s that?’

  ‘A statement from Tilda Tegner. It shows that Ewan Strachan could have been set up by Mick Roslyn.’

  Moberg turned enquiringly to Nordlund, and then to Westermark.

  ‘That’s crap,’ sneered Westermark. ‘It’s the fucking journalist.’

  Anita smiled. ‘Funnily enough, Karl, it was you who put me onto this.’

  Westermark feigned puzzlement. This wasn’t something he wanted credit for. He knew she was trying to get her boyfriend off. ‘It’s ridiculous.’ This attitude was why Anita had wanted to speak to Moberg alone.

  ‘It may be rubbish but let Anita have her say. She’s a lot of explaining to do as it is.’ Moberg had reduced his level of anger to simple scowling.

  Anita stared at the chief inspector. ‘I’m sorry for going over your head but I wasn’t sure you would go along with it. I needed to sort out the facts, do some checking, and talk to Tilda Tegner.’ She paused. Nordlund gave her an encouraging nod. Westermark just appeared petulant.

  ‘Karl here told me that Roslyn hadn’t been at the meeting he was meant to be attending in Stockholm on the Monday.’

  ‘He was still in Stockholm,’ Westermark said defensively.

  Anita dropped the statement onto the desk in front of Moberg. ‘But he wasn’t. He was here in Malmö with Tilda.’ All three men showed their surprise at the news. ‘They were in an apartment belonging to one of Roslyn’s friends.’

  ‘So he was playing away. He’s not the first.’

  Anita gave Westermark a withering glance. ‘I’m sure you’re the expert.’

  ‘Just let her get on without any fucking interruptions,’ barked Moberg.

  ‘Roslyn flew down on the Monday afternoon, not on the Tuesday morning as he claimed. We’ve checked with the airline. He was booked on the Tuesday flight but didn’t actually board the plane. No taxi delivered a passenger from the airport straight to the apartment at Östra Förstadsgatan that morning. He met up with Tilda late Monday afternoon. Strangely, Strachan saw them but thought he must be mistaken as he knew Roslyn was meant to be in Stockholm. Tilda left the apartment at eleven to drive overnight to Stockholm where Bengt Valquist thought she had already gone.’

  ‘Ok, so he had opportunity.’ Moberg was scratching his stomach again. ‘How do you fit him in with the murder of his wife?’

  ‘It goes back to Durham twenty-five years ago. Strachan and Roslyn fell out over Debbie Usher. Each blamed the other for her death. Roslyn may even have believed that Strachan had actually killed her. They don’t see each other again until they meet at an Edinburgh film festival. It’s there that Roslyn suddenly invites Strachan to come to interview him in Malmö. Even Strachan is surprised. Is Roslyn putting together his plan already?’

  ‘What plan?’

  ‘It’s the old story of the middle-aged man who has found a younger model. Malin has done well for his career but she’s not getting any younger. Was Malin holding back the ambitious Mick? She was a home-bird who shunned the limelight. Surely he must want bigger things. International films and fame? Hollywood maybe? Malin wouldn’t have liked to be part of that. Now he’s got a new muse, an actress who will fit in with his grander plans. But the beauty of his scheme is that he can get rid of his wife and get his revenge on Strachan as well by helping us to pin the murder on him.’

  ‘Hang on a minute.’ This was Nordlund. ‘Roslyn put us onto Mednick.’

  ‘And the ex-Säpo angle,’ put in Moberg.

  ‘Yes. Let’s take Mednick. We know he was fixated on Malin but we only have Roslyn’s word for it that he actually sent threatening letters, as opposed to lovesick notes. Conveniently, Malin supposedly got rid of them. As for the ex-Säpo hitmen? He put us on to them and asked for a safe house. Again deflecting attention from himself. And what did that turn out to be? Linas Tapper trying to tap Roslyn for money, while peddling a story that may or may not be true. When those routes didn’t work, Roslyn served us up a motive for Strachan. Clever; he’s got his man and he’s got away with murder.’

  ‘So how do you think the events played out?’ She could tell that Moberg was at least opening up his mind.

  ‘Tilda has gone by eleven, but he’s already got her to agree to an alibi if needed. That gives Roslyn time to go round to the apartment. Malin would be surprised to see him but he probably said that he’d caught an earlier flight. It’s late, so Malin starts to make him a cup of tea in his football mug. She turns away and he uses his judo skills he learned at university. According to Strachan, he was very good. Then he moves the body and sets it up on the sofa, and places the starfish pendant on her lap after it had come off in the struggle. We’ve assumed all along that the body was left for Roslyn to find. What if it was the other way round? Then Roslyn turns up half an hour late, giving Strachann time to go inside – the door was left conveniently unlocked – and be caught with the dead body. He’s even got a photographer with him, giving himself a witness as to his time of arrival. Olander wondered why Roslyn was only wearing a leather jacket, having come from Stockholm on such a cold morning. Well, he’d only come from Mäster Johansgatan.’

  Anita waited for the information to sink in. ‘What we were beginning to think was a spur-of-the-moment murder was, in fact, meticulously planned.’

  CHAPTER 34

  No one spoke for a good couple of minutes. Moberg broke the silence. ‘Now neither Roslyn nor Tilda Tegner has an alibi.’

  Westermark shook his head. ‘I don’t buy it. With your version of events, Tilda Tegner could have done it.’

  ‘She could have,’ Moberg answered before Anita could speak. ‘Or both of them in it together? That would make sense.’

  ‘I don’t think so.’ They all turned to Nordlund. ‘I’ve been with her since yesterday. She was very upset by Valquist’s death. The grief seemed genuine to me. If she’d been involved in Malin Lovgren’s murder I don’t think she’d have been so distressed by the death of her supposed boyfriend. Guilt seems to be the overriding emotion. If she was willing to get to the top by killing a rival, or colluding in her death, then…’ He opened his hands wide and shrugged. The point was made.

  Now the focus of attention returned to Moberg. He was scratching his stomach again, which meant he was either having difficulty reaching a decision or he was hungry. He picked up a Biro and started to flick the plastic top up and down with his thumb. The annoying, constant clicking only increased the tension. ‘Henrik?’

  ‘I think Anita’s made a strong case. It’s more watertight than the one against Strachan. Roslyn’s lied. There’s motive and opportunity.’

  Moberg nodded. ‘Anita?’

  ‘We should bring Roslyn in for questioning. Strachan’s up to you.’

  Moberg looked at Westermark.

  ‘I think that the only thing Roslyn’s guilty of is screwing around and getting caught.’ He glowered at Anita. ‘The journalist did it. I know he did.’

  Moberg’s chair scraped back as he drew himself up. The office seemed to shrink as he did so. ‘I’m afraid it’s three to one. I’m going to see the commissioner and the prosecutor and organize an arrest warrant.’

  ‘What about Tilda Tegner?’ Anita asked.

  ‘She’ll keep.’ Moberg trundled over to the door. As he opened it he turned to Anita. ‘You can go down and let your friend go.’ He wagged an admonishing finger at her. ‘But
he’s not to leave Malmö.’

  After Moberg left the room a seething Westermark eyeballed Anita, ‘You’ve got this so wrong.’ Then he stormed out.

  Westermark walked straight out of the building, down the ramp and headed directly for his car. He got in and sat in silence for some moments. Then he took out his mobile and toyed with it in his hands. He flicked through his contacts list until he came to the name he wanted and, after a momentary hesitation, he pressed “call”. He didn’t have to wait long for it to be answered.

  ‘Hi, it’s Karl. Karl Westermark. There’s something you need to know.’

  Anita gazed out of her office window over Rörsjöparken, just across the road. It was a good place to go and clear the mind and soak up the sun or, if it was too hot, sit in the shade of the giant weeping willow tree, which in summer resembled a green-headed Rastafarian. The door opened behind her. The Ewan who entered was a pale version of the man she had first met. She could see that three days in the cells had been a shock to his system. She felt awkward. Even though she was responsible for his release, she didn’t know what to say. Fortunately, Ewan spoke first.

  ‘So, you’re letting me go.’ She nodded. ‘Are you to thank for this?’

  ‘We’re only doing our job. But you are not to leave Malmö yet. We will keep hold of your passport for the moment.’

  Ewan suddenly grinned. ‘Admit it; you’re only doing this to keep me here so I’ll buy you some more drinks.’

  Anita was totally disconcerted. She had expected recriminations and accusations, anger and resentment. But he was laughing. ‘Was I right about Mick?’

  Anita was grateful that she could retreat into police-speak. ‘I cannot say. But we are pursuing another line of inquiry.’

  Ewan smiled again. ‘So, it’s definitely Mick.’ He held up his hand in acknowledgement that he wasn’t going to get any more out of her. ‘I’ll bugger off, Inspector. The first thing I’m going to do on leaving this building is smoke two cigarettes. And the second is go to a spot where there are no walls to entrap me, where I can witness this beautiful earth as far as the eye can see. I want to go up your bloody Turning Torso.’