A Small Indiscretion

by Denise Rudberg

  CHAPTER 33

  Friggavägen was deathly quiet as he led his bicycle up the hill. One of his paper cups was now empty, so he tossed it into a ditch.

  On his left was a level area, once a railway bed. It housed a grouping of large trees that allowed him to be invisible.

  A garden sloped away from the house, and the lush, green lawn rivaled the grass you’d find at the poshest golf course. He’d already noted that a gardener came twice a week. Flower beds looked as if the flowers grew naturally, but their perfect color combinations revealed the hard work behind them. At the very edge of the enormous yard was a smaller house. It had probably once been the servants’ quarters, but now it was used just for storage.

  He laid down his bicycle in the ditch, where he knew it couldn’t be seen. Then he headed to the edge of the railway bed. A large oak towered over a grove of birch trees. Still wearing his backpack, he climbed to the most comfortable branch, which gave him the perfect view of the house on Friggavägen. He’d learned a great deal about the people who lived there: what they ate for breakfast, the children’s schedules—all their routines. He leaned against the trunk and watched for a while. Then he saw her.

  She walked into the garden dressed in her jogging clothes, and she was talking to a friend. In a loud voice, she related an incident at the children’s school. Her every word floated up into his tree. The other mother responded unpleasantly, saying that her children must not be well brought up. He smiled and closed his eyes. His body tingled with anticipation. From his perch, he felt in control. He could watch everything they did. And sometimes—like now—he could hear everything, too.

  She stopped talking as she walked through the gate onto the gravel road. She had left the porch door open: perhaps there was still someone home—a cleaning woman or a babysitter? The woman started jogging on Friggavägen toward Svalnäs Bay. He resisted his impulse to follow her and learn her route. He really didn’t need to know it, as long as she came back. And in the meantime, once he figured out all that went on in the house, he’d be able to get inside and accomplish his plan.

  CHAPTER 34

  Marianne found an empty desk and hung her jacket on a hook just as Olle returned.

  “That Ehn is a fantastic policeman,” Olle said, “one of the best we have. Not everyone can see it, but he’s sharp as a tack. I often wonder if the guy is psychic. I’m happy the two of you had the chance to get acquainted—you complement each other. But now, my dear Marianne, let me show you around. Few people have arrived so far, but you’ll meet everyone in time. As you know, I’m in the office on the left, all the way down the hall. Baranski’s office is next to mine. You should have the one next to ours. I’ll move the two secretaries in that room closer to the prosecutors they work with.”

  “Won’t that be stepping on a few toes?” Marianne asked.

  “I think everyone will just be grateful that you’re lessening their workloads. I’ve made it clear that we need to rearrange this department, so this won’t come as a shock to anyone. You already know many people, but some young women will be new to you.”

  “Any assistants?”

  “Yes, two new ones. I’ve already told them we’re offering them proper training. I’d like them to stay a few years and really learn something. Lately, as soon as the assistants learn a little, offices in other parts of the country pluck them away, even though they’re so green they can barely carry their own law books. The two we have now are really good, though: Tommy Lööv and Eleonor Rydman. They attended school and took the bar together. But enough of that. Let’s go see Alexandra. She’s probably done with her phone calls now.”

  Olle gently knocked on the frosted glass pane beneath the sign “Prosecutor Alexandra Baranski.”

  “Alexandra, I want you to meet Marianne.”

  Alexandra stood up. Marianne was surprised to see that this woman, in her early forties, was much taller than Olle. She had dark, wavy hair with red highlights. Her dark-brown eyes were serious. Marianne saw how they might scare the life out of a tough criminal. She was the kind of attractive woman who couldn’t walk across a square without everyone noticing—her figure was like that of a fifties-era Hollywood star.

  “Hello, welcome back to the department. God knows you’re needed. Olle has talked about how talented you are. I’m looking forward to working with you. I was so impressed with your solution on the lawyer case—I’d heard about you even then.”

  To her annoyance, Marianne felt that she was blushing. She stammered a reply: “Thank you. We’ll have to see how it goes. I don’t want to disappoint you. Since I’ve been out of the loop for a while, maybe don’t expect too much from me at first. I wasn’t alone in cracking the lawyer case. Others contributed.”

  “But you found the common thread in those reports, which meant your husband could break them in the interrogation.”

  “It was just an accident—simply a fresh pair of eyes looking at material that had gotten stale from being read over and over. I was simply carefully examining the text.”

  “In that case, I hope you’ll use your ‘fresh eyes’ to examine all my reports.”

  Alexandra laughed and shook her head and continued. “I never understood why someone like you would just up and quit for good. But, my condolences on the death of your husband. I understand you’ve gone through a difficult time. How are your children dealing with their loss?”

  “They are grown, all three of them. Since Hans’s illness was drawn out for some time, we could prepare ourselves for it.”

  “I know things can be hard. As for me, I’m divorced with three young children.”

  “Sounds tough.”

  “Yes, especially as my ex has a new wife and family and isn’t really interested in his first three anymore. My boys have found that difficult. Still, my mother lives with us. That’s the only way we could make it work. It’s not a good situation to be forty-seven, single, and living with your old mom!” She laughed, but Marianne could feel the seriousness behind it. She appreciated Alexandra’s openness, not hiding her ambitions or trying to make things seem easy. Working with Alexandra Baranski wouldn’t be a problem at all.

  “Do you have time for a cup of coffee with us?” Olle asked Alexandra, but she shook her head decisively. “No, I have to prepare an argument. I’ll be in court after lunch. But, as I said, it’s really nice to have you here, Marianne.”

  Alexandra excused herself, stepped back into her office, and closed the door behind her. Olle steered his way to the kitchen. The coffeepot was half full.

  “She’s a tough one. Her divorce was particularly nasty. Her husband just up and left her and the three boys. I don’t know how she does it all, but she’s worked out a pretty good life for herself and the kids.”

  “She seems talented.”

  Olle said, “This is just the first step for her. She’ll go a long way. But she already has a few enemies. She’s not exactly what we’d call diplomatic.”

  “Who would dare oppose her?”

  “You’d be surprised. Still, she lets it run like water off a duck’s back. You’ll be working for both Alexandra and me, as well as with Torsten Ehn. We’ll take things slowly.”

  Then, from the tone of his voice, Marianne realized he needed to discuss things further outside the department.

  “Alexandra’s going to start working with Lillemor Rootander. Alexandra and Annelie have had some differences of opinion, so it’s become absolutely necessary to reshuffle things. I know that Annelie, for instance, thinks this is a tender point. You should know all these nuances. I’m still convinced that in the end everybody will do their best to make you feel welcome. And, of course, Lillemor Rootander coming back to work is changing things around.”

  “You mean ‘The Root’ is working here?”

  Olle looked pained and turned to the coffeemaker.

  “Yes, she started here some months ag
o.”

  Marianne tried to keep a straight face. “Well, it’s probably good for her to be back in Stockholm.”

  “You can look at it that way. Do you want milk in your coffee?”

  Olle took Marianne around the entire department and explained the reorganization of the Main Police Station. Marianne tried to listen, but she soon found herself answering with a nod or a “yes” or an “I understand.” So Lillemor “The Root” Rootander was back…She understood why Olle hadn’t mentioned this earlier. It had been a long time, but the wounds still hurt. Lillemor had been one of Hans’s first paramours, and their affair had lasted a long time. Olle knew that. Lillemor had been deeply in love with Hans and demanded that he leave Marianne and the children. Hans had considered it, too, and Marianne had never known why he decided not to. Perhaps it was political. A divorce wouldn’t have helped his career.

  Lillemor had called Marianne to tell her everything. She wanted Marianne to know the man she was married to. Marianne was holding Sigrid on her lap, listening to Lillemor’s slightly hysterical rationalizations. Finally, she hung up and pulled out the telephone jack. When Hans came home that evening, Marianne simply said that if that woman ever called again, they would have to change their phone number. Hans was shocked. He promised he’d never be unfaithful again, and they had a few good months after that. They laughed together and made love every day, and Hans became more actively involved with the children. But when the summer ended and vacation was over, Hans disappeared into his work, leaving Marianne and the children behind. A few years later, Marianne heard that Lillemor Rootander had taken a position as Head Prosecutor in Gothenburg.

  “Well, I think we’re done with the tour. Do you want to move into your office right away or wait until the others have cleared their things?”

  “It would be better to wait. And a computer…how do I get one?”

  “I’ll call our tech guy. He’ll make sure you get all the codes and accessories you need to work with our new systems. You’ll learn it all quickly.”

  The tech guy found Marianne and said, “Why don’t you follow me to storage so I can sign you out on everything you need.”

  Before obediently following the young man, Marianne debated whether she should take her purse or leave it behind. She took it with her.

  The young man, who Marianne guessed to be about twenty-five, introduced himself as Ulrik Carstens. He had short, unkempt hair, a small, perky nose, and extreme acne. His gangly limbs seemed difficult to control, almost as if he were a teenager instead of a grown man. But he dressed well, in a well-pressed summer jacket with light-blue jeans. This added an aura of respectability to his appearance and signaled interest in his career. He turned toward her as he pressed the “B1” button for the basement storage level.

  “Is this your first time here?”

  Marianne shook her head. “Yes and no. I’ve been on leave for a while, but I was here for twenty years before that.”

  “Twenty years? I was only five years old twenty years ago!”

  Marianne smiled and realized she was not far off estimating his age.

  “Are you a prosecutor, then?” he asked.

  “No, I’m the secretary to the prosecutor. I work for Olle Lundqvist.”

  Ulrik said, “You seem to have a lot of work up there these days. Do you know anything about computers?”

  “I know how to start one and how to turn it off. And send e-mail. That kind of thing.”

  Ulrik nodded, as if he’d just plugged her into the category of middle-aged women unaware of common technological advancements.

  The elevator reached the basement.

  “How big of a screen do you want? And do you want a laptop?”

  “I think a laptop would be good. People will probably want me to connect from home. But I’m not too picky when it comes to the screen.”

  The tech guy looked at her thoughtfully. “In that case, I’ll get you a laptop that can easily connect to the stationary computers in the building. What kind of computer do you have at home?”

  “A Mac.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “I like to avoid the viruses on PCs.”

  The tech guy seemed to undergo some inner turmoil changing his assessment of her.

  “Sorry, but we only have PCs here at the station. You’ll have to learn how to use them. Will that be a problem?”

  Marianne winked and said, “Not in the least.”

  CHAPTER 35

  You sure about this?”

  Augustin shook his head. “No, not at all. It’s a rumor going around town.”

  “So Jonas Carlfors was having an affair with Christopher Turin’s wife. It’s a truly bad cliché.”

  “That’s the rumor going around anyway.”

  Torsten wondered where Augustin had heard the rumor, but he knew he wouldn’t get an answer to that. It wasn’t all that important, anyway.

  “Think we should bring him in for questioning?”

  Augustin squinted straight ahead as he ran his hand through his elegant hair. Then he shook his head. “No, but we could have a little chat, just to see where it leads. Maybe there’s something in the rumor that he could explain. But I can understand why he didn’t want to bring it up when you were talking to him.”

  “Why is that?”

  “He was probably still in shock. I don’t think Jonas Carlfors ran the victim down.”

  “How can you be sure? You haven’t even met him.”

  Torsten watched Augustin, interested to see how he’d formulate his thoughts. Actually, Torsten was just as convinced that Jonas Carlfors wasn’t their suspect.

  “He has nothing to gain. He hasn’t been pushed into a corner, and nothing seems to be driving him over the edge. There’s nothing in the interviews I read or in your reports indicating that he’s psychotic.”

  “Psychotic?”

  “That he was going off the deep end. You know what psychotic is.”

  “Yes, I do. I just wanted to check if you had the same view of it. I never know what you young people call things these days. So, why don’t we pay a little follow-up visit to Carlfors & Malmström?”

  “Do you want me to come with you?”

  “That would be preferable. Are you ready?”

  “Absolutely!”

  “According to our sources, Christopher Turin’s widow returns from Mallorca today. I’ve asked her to come by the station later this afternoon.”

  “Do you want to meet her on your own or would you like me there as well?”

  “You certainly can attend.”

  Augustin stood up and reached for his jacket. “Your car or mine?”

  Torsten remembered his parking problems last time he visited Carlfors & Malmström.

  “Yours.”

  Augustin whirled the ring of car keys around his finger as he opened their office door. He smiled and bowed. “After you.”

  CHAPTER 36

  Marianne’s new computer was installed with the software she needed. She’d carefully written down all the passwords and codes for future use.

  Olle trotted past the bare desk where she’d settled in and asked if she needed help with anything, but he hurried away as soon as he saw she had everything she needed. “I’ve called a meeting at ten for everyone,” he said. “In the kitchen.”

  Marianne checked her watch and saw that she still had a half an hour. She got up and quietly knocked on Alexandra’s door. “Is there anything you need me to do right now? I have a computer, and I can help with anything urgent.”

  “Yes, please,” she said. “I need several printouts of this argument—and then we have an entire investigation to go through. It arrived this morning. I have no idea where it will lead, but we have to enter the whole thing into our journal. Annelie has done some of it already, but I would like your input. To be safe, plea
se go through the whole thing.”

  “What kind of an investigation is it?”

  “It’s been Torsten Ehn’s case for about two years. There are many well-known names involved, as well as drugs and prostitution, spiced with bribery and fraud. It’s politically explosive, you might say, and certainly not anything we want to find leaked out before the next election. Unfortunately, Torsten isn’t finished, and he’s lacking quite a bit of information. We might have to shut this investigation down for now. Torsten will be disappointed, although he surely suspects which way the wind is blowing.”

  “He was here earlier this morning.”

  Alexandra said, “He’s a great investigator. Handpicked from the Police Academy for the Huddinge group during the seventies. He’s absolutely fantastic at interrogation. But I think stopping this investigation will take the wind out of his sails.”

  Alexandra handed over a thick folder. Marianne would need both arms to carry it.

  “Another thing. If people give you any trouble, come right to me. Olle sometimes closes his eyes to interpersonal matters, but promise me you’ll speak up if there’s any difficulty.”

  Marianne agreed and left the room, taking a deep breath as she walked to the desk. She sensed there were hidden currents around here, but she certainly couldn’t just sit and worry about it. She might as well get going on her work. She’d just handle each problem as it arose.

  Half an hour later, Olle returned.

  “Let’s go, shall we?”

  They walked to the kitchen, and Marianne noticed Olle mentally preparing himself for the meeting ahead. His body language indicated he was expecting trouble. His shoulders were tense and he was rubbing his hands nervously. All the calm certainty he used in the courtroom was gone. People were coming out of the offices and looking at Olle curiously. He cleared his throat once everyone was in the kitchen: