‘Still here?’ Moberg popped his head round the door of Hakim’s office. ‘Go home and get some sleep.’
‘I can’t.’
There were still groups of officers out searching. Others had been told to stand down for the night and resume at first light. All leave had been cancelled, and there were going to be a lot of disappointed police families who would have to celebrate Midsummer on their own. But the whole of the polishus was on high alert. The teams involved were trying to walk the fine line between searching for the kidnap victim and not alerting the kidnapper. If Sigyn Westermark knew what was going on, that would be the surest way of ending up with a dead body. They knew that she meant business.
Hakim’s own hunt had been unproductive. There were a couple of places he had searched, but they had been outside chances. Most of the area between the beach and the Turning Torso was new. There were building sites with sheds and portakabins. But there were plenty of construction workers around using them, so it would have been impossible to store a body, let alone a living person, without it being spotted.
‘Still nothing from Anita.’ Moberg was now hovering as he engulfed the doorway. Hakim suspected that he felt as impotent as he did.
‘Well, I’m going outside for a smoke. It might help. Fancy joining me?’
Hakim was taken aback. Moberg had never been this sociable before. He was about to refuse, then changed his mind. He could sense that Moberg needed to talk to someone. He stood up and followed the chief inspector down the corridor. They made their way out into the car park. The usual Malmö wind was picking up, and it was drizzling lightly; the first rain they’d had since the night Ebba Pozorski was murdered. The forecast for the weekend wasn’t good; not that it mattered to them. Moberg offered Hakim a cigarette, which he politely refused. The chief inspector lit up and blew a cloud of smoke into the air. Hakim watched the smoke – and it was at that moment that it suddenly hit him.
‘Smoking! That’s it!’
Moberg stared at him uncomprehendingly.
‘The guy at the Kallbadhus said that Sigyn used to wander down to the other piers during her lunch breaks to have a smoke. That’s the part of Malmö she knows best.’
‘But it’s just beach and piers.’
‘Pier three has a cabin at the end. It’s been shut up for years. She had months to work out how to get in. What better place to hide someone? Not the sort of place you’d think to search because it’s so public – swimmers and the like. But no one goes in; and there’s no one around at night, which is when she must have lured Lasse there using Jazmin’s phone.’ Hakim’s voice was trembling with excitement.
Moberg threw away his cigarette with one hand and reached for his car keys with the other.
Anita was mesmerized by the car clock as its bright figures ticked over inexorably towards midnight. She had raced onto the motorway junction at Kastrup and had swiftly reached the bridge. She was way over the speed limit and hoped that she wouldn’t be stopped. Rain was now falling from the scudding clouds, and spotting the windscreen. Her inadequate wipers only smudged the drops, and headlights coming in the opposite direction made her blink. It helped that there was very little traffic on the roads now. There was the infuriating stop at the toll booths on the Swedish side of the bridge, which seemed to take minutes but, in fact, she got through in forty seconds. She almost wept when the motorway shot over Kalkbrottsgatan, which would have taken her directly through Limhamn and straight onto the beach road, but there was no junction there. She’d have to go all the way round by Hyllie. And that meant roundabouts that would slow her down.
The car was juddering as she came off the motorway and onto the slip road. Her second-hand Peugeot wasn’t built for such handling. She managed to negotiate three roundabouts at speed, narrowly avoiding a truck on the second one. She ignored the irate hooting. Now she was on Annetorpsvägen and heading for Limhamn. 23.51. She was definitely not going to get there for midnight. All she could think about was Lasse and not being able to help him. And she still couldn’t figure out who the woman was. Was it someone she had been responsible for imprisoning in the past and was now out? Her thoughts were too cluttered to single out a possible candidate. Now she was on Kalkbrottsgatan. As she rushed through built-up Limhamn, she jumped the red light by the Shell garage at the Hyllie Kyrkoväg intersection, almost knocking over an unsuspecting pedestrian trying to cross the road.
There was a minute to go when she reached Limhamnsvägen, which would take her straight up the coast road adjacent to the city’s long beach. Now she was terrified; her hands were glued to the steering wheel through sweat and fear. She was so intent on reaching the pier on time that she hadn’t decided what to do once she was there. Would Lasse still be alive? Why hadn’t she turned on her mobile earlier? She found herself yelling out loud. What came out of her mouth, she didn’t recognize; some sort of primal scream of a mother unable to protect her child. The clock moved to 00.00. She howled as tears of desperation streamed down her face. She was too late.
By the time she screeched to a halt at the beach end of pier number three, it was five past midnight. She jumped out of the car, leaving the driver’s door wide open; rushed down the short path; bounded up the five wooden steps; and burst along the wet decking. There didn’t seem to be anyone else around. She ran as fast as she could, and halfway down she nearly lost her balance in the dark and had to grab the wooden railing to stop herself falling. She reached the cabin and turned the corner. She peered into the gloom. Only the dim outline of the pier was visible in the faint glow of the sodium lights of the city. Nothing else. No one was there. Was this woman playing games with her?
‘You’re late.’
Anita swung round. There were two shadowy shapes standing at the far end of other arm of the T. Here, instead of railings was solid fencing for protection against the wind, and a gap to allow swimmers access to the steps down to the sea. Anita brushed the rain from her face and stepped forward. At that moment, the moon broke through the eddying clouds. Now she could see a light-haired woman. She was standing next to a tall figure. With a jolt, Anita realized it was Lasse. He had his hands tied behind his back, had thick tape over his mouth, and was unsteady on his feet as if he’d been drugged. Anita felt angry and sick at the same time. But at least he was still alive. The moon disappeared again.
‘Lasse! Are you all right?’
As her eyes grew accustomed to the dark, she could see that the woman was holding something up to Lasse’s throat. Could it be a knife?
‘You’ve been hiding from me.’
‘I don’t know what you’re talking about. I don’t know who you are, or why you’ve kidnapped my son.’
She laughed. ‘Thanks to you, I’ve killed an innocent woman. How does that make you feel? Yet another death at your door. But you won’t have long to think about it because you’re next – and then your darling Lasse.’
Anita held up her hand. ‘No, don’t! Can’t we talk this through? Just tell me what I’ve done wrong. It can’t be anything to do with Lasse. Let him go. It’s obviously me you want.’
‘My name is Sigyn Westermark. Ring any bells?’
Anita gave a sharp intake of breath. ‘Is this about Karl?’
‘You were responsible for his death.’
‘But he killed himself!’
‘You forced him.’
‘I didn’t. He took his own life. It was his decision.’
The moon made another appearance and its pale light glinted off the knife. ‘No! He had no choice. You destroyed him.’
‘Karl killed and raped a young teacher. He murdered one of his own colleagues. No one forced him to do those things.’
Sigyn took a pace towards Anita and brandished the knife in front of her. Lasse sank to his knees.
‘He loved you. He told me. He was besotted. And you rejected him.’
‘You mean I wouldn’t sleep with him. That’s all he was interested in.’ The more enraged Sigyn became, the further she mo
ved away from Lasse and the closer she got to Anita. Anita could now make out the resemblance to her brother. ‘The only person Karl ever loved was himself.’
‘He loved me!’ she shrieked. ‘You took him away from me. That’s why I’m going to kill you!’
Anita strained her eyes. The light was dim, but the frenzy of the deranged woman in front of her was palpable. Somehow, she had to get Sigyn off her guard. Disarm her. She played for time. ‘You’ll not get away with this. Even if you kill us, you’ll be caught.’
Another bitter laugh: ‘You’re a cop through and through. Don’t you understand; I no longer care? They can do what they like with me after you’re dead. I’ll have paid my debt to Karl. My beautiful Karl.’
It was then that Anita realized that someone had appeared at the beach end of the pier. Her glance alerted Sigyn. In that moment, Anita leapt at the woman and caught her off balance. The impact took them both to the edge of the sea steps, and they plunged through the gap and into the water. They went under. Anita clung to Sigyn as she struck out with the knife, which caught Anita on the shoulder, ripping through her thin jacket and piercing her skin. Their bodies were enmeshed in an aggressive rhythm as they surfaced and gasped for air. Anita had lost her glasses. Sigyn grabbed at her again, pushed her back under the water and, the knife still in her hand, raised her arm. Anita twisted furiously as the blade missed her by a hair’s breadth. Now she had the advantage. She caught Sigyn round the waist and pulled her under the waves. It was a bitter battle of avenging sister and protective mother, both emotions driving their fury in a whirligig of flailing limbs. Once more, they broke the surface, panting for air. Again, Sigyn lunged at Anita who, in a last surge of strength, parried the blow, grabbed the hand wielding the knife, and deflected it towards her attacker. Sigyn gave a sudden, loud, rasping gasp. Anita let go, and Sigyn went limp. The moon lit her face: wide-eyed; unbelieving. She tried to speak. Then, with a gurgle, she slowly slipped out of sight.
Exhausted, Anita swam on the spot for a few moments, trying to get her breath. Then she slowly paddled back to the pier. Her left shoulder was throbbing. She tried to haul herself up the steps. She could feel the blood oozing down her back. She felt faint and nearly plummeted back into the sea, but a strong arm grabbed her hand and hoisted her up. She was in the firm grip of Chief Inspector Moberg. What was he doing here? Behind him, she could see Hakim freeing Lasse from his bonds. Moberg pulled her onto the top step.
‘Happy Midsummer, Sundström!’
EPILOGUE
BERLINER MORGENPOST – Friday, 20th June
STOP PRESS
TRAIN DEATH CAUSES DELAYS
A man fell to his death in front of an underground train approaching the platform of Pankow station on the U2 line. The incident occurred at 17.03 yesterday evening during the height of the rush hour. Services were disrupted for two hours. Late last night, the police named the man as 80-year-old Hans-Dieter Albrecht.
Midnight In Malmö: The Fourth Inspector Anita Sundström Mystery (The Malmö Mysteries Book 4) Page 31