As he sat down in his office and began deciding where he was going to eat on the way home, he was congratulating himself on a job well done. They had wandered up a couple of blind alleys but, luckily, they had led them to the killer. And when the murderer was as despicable a character as Pastor Kroon, then it made it all the more satisfying. And all achieved without Anita Sundström throwing her usual spanner in the works.
He still hadn’t heard from Wallen about how they had got on with any Kroon sightings in the park, which was an irritation. They might have to spend another day on that, but the truth would emerge in the end. There was a note on his desk asking him to ring Eva Thulin as soon as he got the message. He looked at it in some surprise. She must be working late. Maybe she had found some evidence of Kroon being in Ebba Pozorski’s apartment after all. That would tighten up the case even further. So, he was more than happy to punch in Thulin’s number and wait for her to answer.
‘Moberg here. Returning your call. Got something for me?’
‘Yes,’ came a guarded reply.
The tone of her voice immediately troubled him. ‘Well?’
‘I didn’t want to leave you a message. Thought it best if I talked to you direct.’
‘Just cut to the chase.’ Moberg hated wafflers.
‘It was a bit of a long shot, but we’ve managed to get some DNA from Ebba Pozorski’s running vest.’
‘What do you mean?’ he asked warily.
‘She was jogging when she was attacked. She was stabbed twice. Whoever stabbed her was sweating because they were running as well. Basically, there was sweat on the hand that inflicted the blows and, because the knife was quite short, when it was shoved into Pozorski’s back, the killer physically touched the material of her running vest at the point of the second, deeper incision. There was a stain. A minute one, barely noticeable, and we didn’t think we’d be able to get anything from it at first.’
Moberg found he was getting excited and concerned at the same time. ‘And that stain has given you a DNA match?’
‘Yes, it has.’
‘It better be Pastor Kroon because we’ve got the fucker locked up downstairs’
‘I’m afraid not.’
‘Well, tell me for Christ’s sake!’ he demanded fiercely.
Thulin paused at the other end of the phone. Then she spoke: ‘You’re not going to believe this.’
CHAPTER 46
It was the twig crunching that Anita heard first. Then voices. Surely Kevin couldn’t be in contact with them already? Her body went taut with anticipation, pistol gripped tightly in her hand, when she realized that the sounds were coming from the wrong direction. She couldn’t see anyone, but she could make out the voices of a man and a woman. They were descending the hill. As they passed by her hiding place, they were laughing. A young couple out for a flirtatious evening walk judging by the bandied remarks. At least that accounted for one of the vehicles down in the car park. Then she heard Kevin’s voice saying ‘Good evening,’ in English. Typically polite; and the Swedish couple returned the greeting. She could pick up their surprise; it wasn’t what they were used to. But she was hugely relieved that Kevin was all right.
Within a minute, she could see him striding up the path within spitting distance of her vantage point. She couldn’t tell if his heavy breathing was nerves, or if he was finding the climb hard. She so dearly wanted to call out to tell him she was there, ready to back him up, but he might be under surveillance and it would give the game away. And then he was gone. The only sound left now was the low rustle of the leaves around her in the light wind.
Just when she was starting to think that nobody was coming and their bait hadn’t attracted the fish, she was aware of movement in the trees beyond. Then she caught a glimpse of a blond head. The man was not coming up the path, but keeping among the trees and shrubs that bordered the track to the hilltop. He was moving stealthily. Now she could make him out as he flitted between the foliage. He was tall and well-built, and wore a lightweight, beige jacket that was half-zipped. She could see the unmistakable bulge of a gun framed by the material. She had never seen Benno Källström, but the figure furtively moving less than five metres away matched Kevin’s description. She weighed up the situation quickly. His body language didn’t seem to be of someone working in tandem with a partner. Once he had gone on, she would wait a short time to see if anyone else emerged. The two minutes she remained pressed against the rock seemed like hours, but it would be reckless to overlook any possibility that he wasn’t alone.
She managed another agonizing minute before slipping away along the very narrow path that took her round the side of the hill. She tried not to rush, though her instinct was to run and protect Kevin before Benno caught up with him. It took her five minutes to reach the edge of the rocky outcrop. There was Kevin. He was gazing out to sea, rhythmically rocking from one foot to the other. He glanced at his watch, creating the effect that he was waiting for someone. She didn’t expect Benno to make his move until Kevin’s “journalist” appeared. What he had planned to do then, Anita could only speculate. Surely he wouldn’t try and kill them both? A lot of people would be needed to cover that up, unless it turned into an unexplained shooting by some maniac who is never found and brought to justice. It might be that simple. In which case, she reckoned she couldn’t hang around. She needed to find him fast. He wouldn’t be on the path leading from the South Head, but in a position to watch it and still keep an eye on Kevin.
Slowly, she worked her way round the edge of the outcrop, using the trees and bushes as cover. Every step she took, she made sure that her foot came down quietly. After a few paces, she stopped and listened. There was nothing to give away Benno’s position. As she edged forward again, she was frightened that her uneven breathing would betray her; it sounded so loud. She pressed herself against a thick tree trunk and then crept away from its protective overhanging branches. She almost stumbled upon Benno, who was just in front of her facing the opposite way. He swivelled round instantly, his hand automatically reaching into his jacket. But he never had time to get his gun out, as Anita was pointing her own pistol at his head.
For a moment, she just stood there wondering what she should do next. From this point forward, there had been no decisive plan. Kevin had had a vague idea that if she was able to arrest Benno – possession of a weapon would be a good enough excuse – then the police would have to take official action, and that would give them some sort of protection. By bringing it into the public domain, they might be able to keep the shadowy spooks at bay. She told him to put his hands on his head.
‘Move!’ she ordered. He stepped down onto the path and walked towards the North Head. At that moment, Kevin appeared. She could see the relief on his face.
‘He’s got a gun. Can you get it?’
Kevin swiftly strode up to Benno and yanked the gun out of his jacket.
‘Is he alone?’ Kevin asked as he inspected Benno’s gun.
‘Are you?’ demanded Anita in Swedish.
He didn’t answer. Anita pushed her pistol into the small of his back so that he would step forward. She made him sit on one of the protruding rocks. All was quiet around them. The sky was hazy blue and the deep azure sea virtually unrippled. It was a picturesque scene, yet here they were, brandishing weapons and about to interrogate a double murderer. The irony wasn’t lost on her.
‘Who do you work for?’ She was still speaking in Swedish.
‘Are you going to kill me?’ he answered without a hint of fear.
‘No, I’m going to arrest you.’
He even smiled. ‘I wouldn’t bother. I wouldn’t be in custody for very long.’ There was a hint of a laugh when he asked: ‘What are you going to charge me with?’
‘Carrying a firearm.’ It was as lame as it sounded. ‘Why were you following us in Berlin? Why were you spying on Albin Rylander? Did you kill Klas Lennartsson?’ The questions flew out randomly and Anita cursed herself for her unprofessionalism.
> ‘You have no idea who you’re messing with, have you?’ Benno Källström was perfectly unruffled.
‘We’ve a pretty good notion,’ said Anita. ‘You killed Albin Rylander to protect your agency before he had time to tell Klas Lennartsson his full story. Is it the Office for Special Collection?’ For the first time, Benno showed a hint of concern. ‘Then, when you realized that Klas Lennartsson was still carrying on with the book and had found out Rylander’s secret, you contrived his accident.’
‘Prove it.’
‘What’s he saying?’ asked an exasperated Kevin, who hadn’t understood any of the exchanges.
‘He’s not telling us anything.’
‘Can I kick the shit out of him then?’ She grimaced in horror.
‘You can tell you’re not from Sweden,’ Benno commented wryly in English. He turned to squint up at Anita; the evening sun was still shining brightly. ‘You’d better arrest me then. But I warn you: when I get out, I’ll be coming after you.’ He let the threat linger in the air.
‘Get up,’ Anita ordered. She glanced across at Kevin. He looked as helpless as she felt. Any thoughts of reasoning with this man were flying out of the window. He couldn’t be intimidated. They had nothing to bargain with.
Benno Källström stood up. He grinned at Anita. Then, suddenly, his expression changed, and he crashed to the ground at her feet. Anita gawped at Källström, then at Kevin, who was obviously as dumbfounded as she was. Then she noticed the blood pooling over the rocks. She hadn’t taken in the thud of the shot, as it had been so neatly carried out. She swung round and saw a burly, bald man standing a few metres away with a gun, elongated by a silencer. Kevin had swivelled round and was on bended knee, Benno’s weapon pointing at the intruder – Mr Large.
‘Put your pistol away, Inspector Sundström,’ he ordered in Swedish. His voice was deep and confident. ‘You’re not in danger.’ Turning to Kevin, he said in immaculate English. ‘And I’ll take that gun, if you don’t mind, Detective Sergeant Ash. It’s government property.’ Kevin appeared uncertain until Anita nodded to him. Kevin stood up and held the gun out for the man, who casually walked over and took it from him.
Anita was still stunned. She gazed at the blood, already congealing, and she knew that Benno was dead. When she looked up again, she was given another start. Behind the large man, who had now put his own gun and Benno’s weapon away, was Alice Zetterberg. What the hell was she doing here?
‘This is all very unfortunate,’ the man said, still speaking English.
‘You’re bloody right!’ exploded Kevin. It was a release of tension. ‘He’s the bloke I saw watching Rylander’s house before he died.’
‘And was at the scene afterwards with her,’ Anita said accusingly.
‘I suspect that you’ve pieced together much of what has happened and why. I do not intend to enlighten you much more, other than to say that there was never any intention to do Klas Lennartsson any harm. We had ways of ensuring that the story would never enter the public domain. If you know as much as I think you do, then you’ll appreciate that it isn’t in Sweden’s interests that Rylander’s activities should emerge.’
‘But you still killed Klas.’ Anita’s anger was beginning to bubble up.
He ignored her remark. ‘Lennartsson’s trip panicked our operative here,’ he said with a nod in the direction of the dead body. ‘He took it upon himself to solve the situation without official sanction, which would not have been given.’ Looking at Kevin: ‘I think he became what you English would describe as a “rogue agent”. We realized he had become a serious liability when we discovered he had followed you to Berlin. He had you two in his sights from the moment it became obvious that you were determined to follow up Rylander’s and Lennartsson’s deaths.’ He waved in Zetterberg’s direction. ‘We tried our best to discourage you. Your colleague here tried to block your every move, but you wouldn’t desist.’
‘She’s always poked her nose in where it wasn’t wanted,’ Zetterberg said snidely in Swedish.
Anita just scowled. So Zetterberg had been colluding with the secret services to conceal the crimes! At that moment, she couldn’t think of anybody she loathed more.
‘How are you going to explain Källström’s death? Or whatever his real name is.’ Anita’s fury blinded her to the fact that there was no guarantee that she and Kevin wouldn’t end up the same way.
He shrugged. ‘This never happened.’
Another cover-up. And with the willing Zetterberg helping out. How could she? Anita wondered furiously.
‘What about Anita?’ Kevin’s voice broke through her troubled thoughts. ‘What about the both of us? Are we going to be two more incidents that never happened?’
‘Of course not. We don’t go round killing British policemen. Or our own, either. You are free to go.’
Kevin looked at the large man incredulously.
‘What if I report all this?’ said Anita aiming her comment at Zetterberg. ‘Three murders have been committed. We’re witnesses to this one.’
‘Besides the fact that you’ll never be able to prove it, I think you’ll be sensible.’ The big man was in total control of the situation. ‘After all, you wouldn’t want anything nasty to happen to Lasse and Jazmin at their crappy little apartment in Rosengård.’ Anita’s jaw dropped. ‘Or you, Inspector Ash, with those lovely daughters of yours. Abigail’s the oldest, I believe. And young Hazel,’ he carried on pleasantly. ‘She’ll be going to university next year. Bright girl, apparently.’
‘How the fuck do you know?’ Kevin demanded.
‘We have friends in Britain.’
‘It’ll be MI5 or something. You bastards are all the same.’
‘You can’t threaten us,’ Anita protested.
‘What a stupid thing to say, Inspector. That’s exactly what I am doing. And remember, it’s not only your families you should think about.’ An edge came into his tone. ‘You would be destroying your careers and your reputations. We would see to that.’ He paused to make sure that they had got the message. ‘We do not want either of you being loose ends that we have to tie up.’
Anita looked down at the body of the dead agent, then at Kevin. He held out his hand to her. She moved across to him and he took her by the arm.
‘Before you leave,’ the big man said, ‘you don’t happen to know where Lennartsson’s Berlin notes are, do you?’
Anita shook her head in reply. As they left the hilltop, the image that would remain with her for ever was Zetterberg’s self-satisfied sneer. They were aware of shadowy figures appearing from the trees. The clearing-up operation had begun. Another cover-up – and there wasn’t a damn thing she could do about it.
CHAPTER 47
Jazmin was startled by the apartment buzzer. Could it be Lasse? He might have forgotten his key. But it was Hakim.
When he entered the apartment, she immediately told him that she had heard nothing from Lasse, and she still couldn’t get hold of Anita. She was now so worried that she didn’t know where to turn or what to do. Hakim tried to calm her down, but he could feel that something was wrong, if not necessarily suspicious. It was very unlike Lasse just to go off. He also knew that he hadn’t been missing long enough for the police to take any action – Jazmin had last seen him yesterday morning when she went off to her lectures. At his sister’s insistence, Hakim had tried Anita’s home phone and her mobile but had got no response, though he had done it reluctantly because he didn’t want to alarm her. He then tried the hospital to see if Lasse had been taken in after an accident. Again, there was no joy.
He stayed with Jazmin for over an hour. He tried to persuade her to spend the night with their parents, but she wanted to stay put in case Lasse suddenly came walking back into the apartment. She needed to be there for him. Then he excused himself. He had to be at work at half past six tomorrow morning. That in itself had been strange. They had been in Pildammsparken when Wallen had got a call from Moberg telling her that they were to pack up immed
iately. No reasons were given. The only instruction was that he wanted to see the team assembled at half six. It must be important because it wasn’t a time you’d usually find the chief inspector at his desk.
The bottle of red wine was empty. Anita went into the kitchen and opened another one, even though it was past midnight. When they were leaving the Stenshuvud car park in their respective cars, two unmarked blue vans and a police car were the only other vehicles in the area. Anita had burst into tears on the drive back. She felt bitter, saddened and belittled by her experience on the North Head. Everything she believed in and stood for in her years of policing seemed to have lost any coherent meaning. Three people had been killed to protect an inconvenient truth – one of them totally innocent of the machinations of governments and their secret services. A friend whom she hadn’t believed until it was too late. She was beginning to wonder if she could carry on working to uphold the law that was treated in such a cavalier, contemptuous fashion by those who wielded real power. How high did these decisions go? Or were the present-day politicians unaware of the exploits of those who were acting in their name? The only answer was to give Kevin a long and strong hug when they got back to the holiday cabin. And more tears.
Midnight In Malmö: The Fourth Inspector Anita Sundström Mystery (The Malmö Mysteries Book 4) Page 28