A Small Indiscretion

by Denise Rudberg

  “Why do you have to stay away all night? Can’t you manage to just get home late?”

  “It’s not possible. No boats go at that hour, and a taxi boat would cost thousands of crowns. It doesn’t matter, does it? We’ll have tomorrow night. You can have time for yourself, and it might be pleasant not to have me around for a change.”

  “No. It’s not pleasant for me. I don’t like to be left alone so often.”

  “I know, it’s happened a lot lately. But you know that’s how my job works.”

  “You’ve been busy with all kinds of things…”

  “If you’re hinting that I should give up my yoga and meditation classes, that’s completely unfair. You have all day to keep yourself in shape. I’m the one who’s making sure you have a good life.”

  Paula sighed. She didn’t want to start this same old discussion. It always ended the same way.

  “You know I make sacrifices, too. I would like to find a job.”

  “Yes, yes, but we both know that that doesn’t fit into the life we lead. Would you be so unkind to our girls? Do we really have to go through this again? I have to attend this event. There’s nothing I can do about it. The Japanese are coming back from break. I have to go. I’ll be home sometime after lunch. I love you.”

  He’d thrown out that I love you quickly, but the words made her happy. He hadn’t said it for quite a while. Frustrated, she threw her head against her pillow. She was just about to call Lotta when a text came through:

  I can’t stop looking at you. You’re fantastically sexy. Too bad he doesn’t realize it.

  It was from the same number—the one she didn’t recognize. Paula sat up straight. She looked around wildly but couldn’t hear anything from inside the house. She looked out the window. The yard was empty, and she couldn’t see a soul down on the road. She jumped back into bed, covering herself with her blanket, forcing herself to breathe normally. She called directory assistance to see if she could find out the name the number was registered on, but she didn’t succeed. She was frozen in fear, but then she decided to take the bull by the horns. She found the text and called the number. Someone picked up but didn’t say a word. She heard a slight buzz and then the sound of a train signal. Paula’s entire body was tense as she whispered, “Hello?”

  No reply. At the same time, she realized it was the same train signal that she heard every quarter hour in her own house. Then the caller hung up.

  CHAPTER 10

  The victim sure was run over thoroughly,” Jan Brundin said with his usual dry wit. Torsten shook his head at his colleague’s sense of humor. Jan continued, “The car first knocked him down.”

  “Can you tell what speed it was going?”

  “I’d guess twenty, twenty-five miles an hour. My theory is that someone was waiting for him in the car. The minute he crossed the road, the driver hit the gas.”

  Torsten wrinkled his forehead. There should have been enough time for the victim to react.

  “Was the victim taking drugs? Alcohol?”

  Jan shook his head. “No drugs. I would venture to say that he’d never touched the stuff in his life. He seems to have been someone who took good care of his body. There was a small amount of alcohol—I’d guess red wine—but we’ll know for certain when the test results are in. One glass or two at the most. Probably from dinner the night before.”

  “Can you pinpoint the time of the accident?”

  “About four a.m.”

  “Why didn’t he react when the car barreled down on him? He must have tried to throw himself out of the way, right?”

  “Not that I can tell.”

  “Have you found his cell phone?”

  “Inside his jacket pocket.”

  “So he wasn’t on the phone, ignoring traffic.”

  Jan shook his head.

  “Do you think he was waiting for a taxi?”

  “Why would he be on his way home at four in the morning and then stop for a taxi in front of his entrance? It’s not logical.”

  “Perhaps he’d forgotten something important back where he’d been.” Then Torsten shrugged. “That’s not probable. What if he recognized the car? What if it was someone he knew behind the wheel, and he didn’t think he was in danger?”

  “It’s possible. Our driver certainly made sure that there would be no chance of survival.”

  “Revenge? Someone who has killed before?”

  “Probably. Beginners don’t act like this. If so, we’re dealing with a dangerous individual, who could probably kill again. Could it be a hired killer?”

  Olle Lundqvist rushed breathlessly through the door, asking for forgiveness with a wave.

  “Sorry I’m late, but I was in a meeting that ran much too long. How does it look? Any chance that this was an accident?”

  Jan Brundin shook his head. “No, I have no doubt that this was premeditated. Who’s going to head up the investigation? I imagine you’re too busy, Torsten.”

  Torsten looked down at the metal container—it held the victim’s wedding band and a bracelet apparently made by a child, with colorful beads on an elastic band tied clumsily. Torsten cleared his throat and looked away, “No, Jan, I’m on this case. Olle has to go and face the media vultures now. I’ll talk to them later as the case progresses, but I’ve had my fill of them today.”

  “I can do that,” Olle said

  Jan Brundin excused himself to go back to his desk. The younger policemen watched his every move, so he always needed to follow protocol.

  Torsten and Olle left the forensics lab and headed upstairs.

  “So, who are you going to assign to me? Pia? Pelle? Or aren’t you able to make that call? Do I have to ask Klaus?”

  Olle peered at Torsten, running his thumb and forefinger down his nose. He was almost an inch taller, and thinner, than Torsten. A prominent nose and full lips dominated Olle’s face. Torsten had heard that women found him extremely attractive, although not traditionally handsome Additionally, Olle moved with a natural elegance that Torsten envied. He always felt clumsy in Olle’s company. Torsten liked Olle. He was the only person on the force who had never let him down.

  Olle took a deep breath and shook his head.

  “No, none of those. By the way, have you called Jidhoff yet?”

  “I called on the way over here, but she didn’t pick up. She’ll probably call back when she can.”

  Olle cleared his throat to announce that he was raising a delicate subject.

  “I was wondering if you would like to try working with a new guy.”

  “A new guy? Fresh from the Academy?”

  “Yep.”

  Torsten sighed and threw up his hands, exclaiming, “What the hell is going on here? First you have me report to a confused widow, and now a new guy? Why should I take him on? What’s going on here?”

  Olle shook his head.

  “Nothing at the moment,” Olle said, “but I believe this new man is someone you can work with. He’s a little different, and he needs someone like you. He has potential.”

  “Potential? I don’t need potential. I need competence—not someone who’ll be a good cop in five years.”

  “I know, but look at it like this. You prefer working alone, and this is the next best thing. He’ll obey your every order, and you’ll be completely in charge of the entire investigation. In return, I’ll keep Klaus out of your hair.”

  Klaus Heikki was an officer Torsten had worked with for more than fifteen years. But now Heikki had decided to try to rise up the career ladder instead of working on the streets. He was already angling for one of the chief positions, and already a fairly good boss. Still, having a superior meant more bureaucracy for Torsten, which he’d rather do without. Things usually went faster and more smoothly when someone wasn’t looking over his shoulder.

  Torsten took a deep brea
th and shrugged. “OK. I get that I don’t have much of a choice. What’s his name?”

  “Augustin Madrid.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Augustin Madrid. He finished his patrol duty at the Academy last summer, and he’s been bugging me about a job every single day for the past two years. His dream is to work in our department.”

  “Why?”

  “This is what he wants to do. His supervisor says that he was the best in his class by far. One of the best the past few years.”

  “That doesn’t mean much. Does he want to move up the ladder, too?”

  Olle shook his head. “No, I don’t think so. I think he’s the kind who wants to do the best at whatever he takes on.”

  “God help me, he’ll be tough to work with. Why the hell are you throwing him at me?”

  “Because I think you’re going to like him. And I trust him. You’ll see what I mean. Also, Klaus will believe I’m doing him a favor, and that can be useful later on. So how about lunch?”

  Torsten could still taste his licorice pipe, but his stomach told him it was time for something more substantial. He said, “Yes, if you’re paying.”

  Olle placed a hand on his shoulder. “Sure, and since you’re such a good boy, I’ll let you have dessert, too. I bet we can find ice cream with chocolate sauce.”

  “Thanks, Dad.”

  Heading out the doors and onto Kronobergsgatan, they laughed. The officer on guard duty gave them a nod from where he was sitting, his cell phone plastered against his ear.

  CHAPTER 11

  Marianne listened to the answering machine, wrinkling her forehead as she wrote down the number. As she tapped it into her cell phone, she had her doubts.

  “Ehn!” the voice on the other end said.

  “Hello. My name is Marianne Jidhoff. You were looking for me?”

  “Yes, right, hi! My name is Torsten Ehn. I’m a detective for the National Police. Olle Lundqvist asked me to contact you. It seems we’ll be working together on something.”

  “Yes?”

  “Well, really, I don’t know much more than that, but Olle told me to report to you, and that’s what I’m doing. How much do you know already?”

  “Nothing at all. I haven’t even returned to work yet. I’m supposed to start Monday.”

  “I see. Well, then, I won’t disturb the little lady any longer. I guess we’ll wait to catch the killer once you’re back. I’ll call him and let him know.”

  Using a stern tone, Marianne replied, “You have no reason to be so disrespectful. I’ve been on leave for a while, and this is the first I’m hearing that I’m expected back at work already. You must excuse me for not knowing what you are talking about. What, exactly, are you supposed to report to me?”

  “The stuff that I usually tell Olle. But he wants you to be some kind of communication central.”

  “That’s more than I know. Yes, I’d better call Olle right away.”

  “I would think so.”

  Marianne sighed. She wondered what kind of idiot Olle had sent her way. Probably someone he couldn’t stand, and she was supposed to act as a filter. Still, Marianne couldn’t help being curious. She sighed again. Feeling idiotic she said, “If Olle told you to report to me, I think we should get started. Are you able to swing by Östermalm? I’m afraid I can’t make it in to the station today.”

  “Sure. I’m heading that way anyway. I have to finish up something here first, but I can get to your place in about two hours. What’s your address?”

  “Banérgatan 8, Third Floor.”

  Marianne gave him the entry code and hung up. What a strange person. She didn’t think she’d work well with this guy. On the other hand, she expected some static when she came back.

  Marianne decided to call Chrisse Stierna, her oldest friend since childhood. They had started preschool together. For the past ten years, they’d kept in touch only by telephone since Chrisse had moved to Zurich with her husband. She’d opened a dentist’s office there and rented her office of twenty years in Östermalm to another dentist.

  Marianne wished that her friend would move back to Sweden. She really missed their Friday lunches, but talking to her a few times a week helped.

  “Do you have time to chat?” she asked.

  “I have a patient in half an hour, so I do have a few minutes. Just let me pour myself a cup of coffee.”

  Marianne heard the sound of coffee being poured into a cup. In her mind’s eye, she could picture Chrisse and her well-coiffed blonde page. Chrisse had a year-round tan and legs to die for. Marianne thought that Chrisse should donate her legs to a museum. They were surely the best-sculpted legs on Earth—and they hadn’t changed over the years. Despite being envious, she loved her friend with all her heart. Chrisse could keep her cool in the most dramatic situations and had an intelligent head on her shoulders. Her choice to go into dentistry had astonished everyone, including Marianne. People had thought Chrisse would remain a housewife, but once her third child was born, she decided to go to dental school and had gotten the highest grades in her class.

  Marianne inhaled deeply on her cigarette.

  “Don’t tell me you’ve started smoking again!” Chrisse’s voice rang down the line.

  “I’m just having one. The pack’s below the stove fan.”

  Marianne smiled at the sound of Chrisse lighting a cigarette and inhaling just as deeply.

  “You can’t be smoking in your office!”

  “Where else would I? People don’t care here in Switzerland. So tell me, what has Olle said to you? He wants you to come back to work, doesn’t he?”

  “That’s right.”

  “How long did he give you to decide?”

  “I’ve already agreed.”

  “That’s wonderful! What made you change your mind?”

  “There’s a great deal going on there, and Olle’s not exaggerating when he says he needs my help.”

  “Of course he does. He knows how smart you are. And what else would you do all day? How else would you fill those long hours?”

  Marianne sighed. “I don’t know if I’m doing the right thing, though. A detective is already on the way over here.”

  Chrisse laughed. “That sounds just like Olle. He’s making sure you’re already on a case so you can’t back out. Smart guy!”

  Olle had been in their same elementary-school classroom, so Chrisse knew him fairly well. As a young boy, Olle had been shier than most and didn’t get into much trouble, but he’d certainly changed as the years went by. When Olle was first accepted in the Prosecutor’s Office, Marianne’s husband Hans had been his mentor. At that point, they included each other in their social circles. Marianne thought Olle’s wife was a pleasant but introverted woman, and they’d never gotten to know each other very well. Olle was the one who kept in contact after Hans had died, and he was the one who’d called to express his sympathy. His wife accompanied him to the funeral, but she hadn’t spoken to Marianne.

  Chrisse was talking. “And, like I said, what else are you going to do? You certainly don’t play golf. You have no grandchildren. Your husband is gone.”

  “I know, but I don’t have much energy, either.”

  “Maybe it will come back when you start working again.”

  “Maybe. Olle told me many things to make me reconsider my decision. Still, I had decided I wanted to quit for good. Now everything is turned upside down.”

  “It’s a sign. It’s obvious! I was beginning to think you’d probably start driving your children crazy.”

  “What? Have they said anything to you?”

  Chrisse was the godmother to Marianne’s children. She kept in close contact with Nina and Sigrid, since her own daughters were similar ages and all were close friends.

  “No, they haven’t. Still, I know how quickly you’d start interferi
ng out of boredom. I’d do the same thing myself. Otherwise, I’d take to drinking all day or give myself cancer from lying in the sun. I think I’d even get tired of playing golf. We aren’t that old yet. In ten years, maybe things will be different. But now? We’re only fifty-five, for God’s sake. The same age as Madonna! Have you ever heard her talk about retiring?”

  “No, but how am I supposed to keep up with Madonna?”

  “That’s not the point. It’s that we’re not old. Not yet.”

  Marianne took a last drag at her cigarette before holding the butt under the sink and throwing it in the trash. A few flecks of tobacco got stuck on the faucet, and she scraped them away with her fingernail.

  “So you agree I should go back to work. What if I find it dull and boring?”

  “Then tell them you’re old and tired. Just quit if it doesn’t work out.”

  “I think there’s lots of gossip at the station about Hans. I don’t know if I’m ready to face it.”

  “I’m sure they’ve been gossiping about him for decades. They’ll lose interest now that he’s passed away.”

  Marianne said, “Yes, and there’s another thing. I went to my gynecologist today.”

  “Oh, no, tell me that you’re all right!”

  “There’s no reason to worry. But she told me what I was doing wrong.”

  “Good Lord! Did you get an STD?”

  “How could that have even happened? No, she was concerned that I’d missed several appointments and that I’d put on weight.”

  “What did she tell you?”

  “That I have to get my weight under control. She even offered me diet pills. I had no idea those things were still around.”

  “I’m sure it’s a big industry. But maybe you should pay more attention to her. Try that Danish Hospital Diet I usually go on before bikini season. And walk to work every day. The pounds will fall off.”

  “It sounds horrible.”

  “Yes, but it’ll work, you’ll see. Sorry, I have to run. I’d better air out this room before my patient arrives.”