Killer's Island

by Anna Jansson

  “I think so, too. One last question; think about this one carefully. Has Linn received any threats because of her sexual orientation? Have you presented yourselves in a way that someone else may interpret as you being a couple?”

  “We’ve been discreet about it. I mean, I hoped and dreamed that one day we’d be able to show everyone we were together. You know, I’m not sure Linn would have told me if she had been receiving threats. She found it difficult opening up and talking about things, it took time. You had to ask the right questions and listen for a long time. She didn’t want to worry me or make me afraid. Sometimes I was still the patient she was trying to protect. Do you think this is a hate crime?”

  “We have to take a broad view so we don’t miss anything.”

  “Does that mean you don’t have any clues about who did this?”

  “We have a lot of material. It’s difficult to know what’s important. That’s why everything you can tell us is of the utmost importance. If you think of anything, call me direct at this number.” Maria handed over her card and a brochure about the hotline for victims. “If you need someone to talk to.”

  “Thanks, I have friends… and my father.”

  “I just thought of something else. Do you know what Linn used to keep in her purse?”

  Sara shook her head.

  “Try, it’s an important question,” said Maria.

  “I suppose more or less the same as anyone else. A wallet with a couple of hundred kronor, her credit card, cell phone, comb and a mirror. She might have had a lipstick. Maybe. A USB memory stick. I was there when she bought it and we figured out how to use it. That’s six months ago, but I know she used to keep it in her purse.”

  “Do you know what kind of information she saved on it?”

  “I never asked, but I think it had something to do with her work.”

  When Maria was taking Sara Wentzel back to the entrance she ran into Hartman.

  “I’ve asked Per Arvidsson to head up the investigation into the assault. He’s back on duty, he’ll be interviewing someone in connection with it. We’re hoping for a fresh lead. In return we’re going to be lenient with him and look the other way from time to time.”

  “Is he up to it?” Maria doubted whether he’d be able to work much more than part-time. There was a risk he wouldn’t have time to do what was required, while at the same time being too proud to admit it.

  “I couldn’t stop him. I felt there was a lot at stake for him. He went to the mainland this morning. Jesper Ek has a son, Joakim, in Svartsjö Prison. The boy’s implied to Ek that he knows something, but he wanted to talk face to face. Per wants to have a word with him, it’s possible he knows something about a certain person known as Roy.”

  Hartman smiled warmly at Maria but his eyes were very serious. “I wish I could stay with the investigation into the assault, but now that we have another murder on our books I just have to delegate, however much I’d prefer to handle it myself. You do understand, don’t you? There are no witnesses who saw the attack, apart from you. We never tracked down the man who walked past, or anyone else brave enough to come forward. All we have is your description and the name ‘Roy’… but we can’t be sure, it may just be a nickname. The assailant could have some scratches on his body. If so we need to nab him before they heal.”

  “I’d like to question the jerk myself and do a Columbo, you know what I mean? Anything just to get at the truth.”

  “Listen, you’d do a fantastic job if it was about anyone else. It just won’t wash when you’re the victim… you know that.”

  “But Arvidsson? Who takes over if he can’t cope with it?”

  “I already thought about that. Ek will have to back him up. You’re right, Arvidsson is experienced, he’s the best option we’ve got but there’s a risk he won’t stand up to the pressure. Not quite yet.”

  Maria tried a smile, but it failed to convince. She felt her hands were tied.

  CHAPTER 19

  ERIKA LUND QUICKLY SCANNED the report from the medical examiner before meeting the others in the conference room. Haraldsson looked as if he’d slept in his uniform, which seemed likely enough. When he closed his eyes, Ek gave him a jab in the ribs, pushing him against Maria who had a mug of coffee in her hand. She managed to slump back into her chair with her legs apart, avoiding getting the hot liquid in her lap. Hartman’s gaze was exacting, as if ordering them all to listen to Erika.

  “Linn Bogren had a blood alcohol level of 0.2 and a significant amount of sedatives, the equivalent of about four times the prescribed dose. Not deadly in itself but certainly excessive dosage. The incision in her throat was made with a normal kitchen knife, the same knife that was found under the victim’s bed, no fingerprints on it except the victim’s own. Possibly they were put there after her death. In other respects it’s quite baffling how the crime scene seems to lack any fingerprints. It’s clinically clean. The head was severed from the body a few centimeters above the actual cut, then moved to the Botanical Gardens and Tempelkullen. I didn’t find any signs of struggle or resistance. Everything points to her having been killed in her sleep. The amount of blood left in the body is also curiously small. She was hung like game; drained of her blood. In the ceiling above the bed is a strong hook holding the fan. I lifted it off and found tiny rope fibers.…”

  “Might we be dealing with a hunter here?” Ek felt a vague sense of nausea after Erika’s detailed description of the train of events.

  “We don’t know for sure, it could be someone who works in an slaughterhouse… or a doctor, someone used to handling a knife. The body must have been transported in something: a sack, a box? I found a piece of a black trash bag on Tempelkullen. There were traces of blood on the plastic. Another quite unusual fact is that we found dog hairs from two different dogs. They were most likely tethered to the banister on the front steps, because there’s a prevalence of animal footprints there, in the soft ground. The dogs were by the steps during or after the rain.”

  “I’ve checked with Claes Bogren and Sara Wentzel, but neither of them are aware of Linn being visited by a dog owner,” Maria interjected. “No one she socializes with. But the neighbor Harry Molin has two dogs, an Alsatian and a Labrador. I’m going to question him immediately.”

  “Very good.” Erika was keen to move on. “I found out from Molin’s doctor, Anders Ahlström, that Harry bumped into Linn on Sunday evening last week when she was on her way back from work. She seemed worked up, possibly drunk, reeling and unsteady on her legs. Groggy, that’s how he put it. You’ll have to clarify that with him. Anyway, we know that later that night he pressed his face against her window to see if she was in. This would certainly frighten anyone. She was a nurse; he wanted to ask for some advice.”

  “Anders? That doctor you met in the bar?” Maria smiled slightly.

  “Yes.” Erika looked bothered. Work and one’s private life were two separate worlds and should be kept that way. Maria did not allude to it again.

  “It doesn’t sound quite normal, seeking out a nurse in the middle of the night unless there’s an emergency,” Hartman ventured. “I’ll come with you, Maria. I don’t think you should see him by yourself.” Hartman’s gaze indicated clearly that he was not going to change his mind on this point. “Whoever killed Linn Bogren was strong enough to carry her body more than five hundred yards up and down a hill. Did one or more people do this? What do you conclude from the footprints you’ve looked at, Erika?”

  “It’s meaningless even to speculate about Tempelkullen, after all the trampling around there. But there are a couple of finds by the kitchen door to Linn’s house in Specksgränd. Prints from a pair of Riekers men’s size 8 ½ , a pair of Adidas men’s size 10 ½ , and then a vague footprint, size 10 ½ - 11, we don’t know the brand yet.”

  “I took a closer look at Claes Bogren’s alibi and it’s a little puzzling.” Maria took up her notepad and flicked through the last few pages. “The cargo ship he was enlisted on ran into Gothenb
urg Harbor twenty-four hours before the date he gave us. But the ticket of his Gotland ferry is correct and the ship was slightly behind schedule, just like he said.”

  “Did he actually check in or just buy the ticket?” Hartman exchanged a quick glance with Maria.

  “He checked in, or at least someone did. They don’t check your ID at the ticket desk. But there’s no reason why one couldn’t swap one’s ticket with someone else after the trip. A friend. Or if one finds a used ticket in some trash can. It’s a bit far-fetched, but a ticket is not really a one hundred percent definite alibi.”

  “How did he explain his extra day in Gothenburg?” Ek sat with his legs wide apart looking cagey. He already had a clear idea.

  “Just that he couldn’t remember. They had a serious storm and sometimes one doesn’t wake on the day one thinks… or something like that. But can you really sleep through a whole day? I don’t think he looks like he lives that way. He seems quite tidy.”

  “An extra day means an extra lady, in my world,” Ek admitted with candor.

  Maria smiled involuntarily. No one was surprised; Ek was the way he was. “That was also my thinking and I suggested as much, but Claes denied it. I suppose we have to assume he feels guilty about it. It’ll come out in the wash, it’s not the last time I’ll be interviewing him. Anyway, his shoe size is men's size 10 1/2, so those Adidas shoes could be his. I’ll tell him to hand in his shoes to the forensic division.”

  “Were there any results from knocking on doors in the area?” Hartman looked at Haraldsson and Ek. Haraldsson seemed deep in his own thoughts, and Ek responded first.

  “Not a lot. Most of them were asleep. We haven’t managed to get hold of the closest neighbor, Harry Molin, I mean the one with the dogs. No one opens the door and the telephone’s been disconnected. Per Arvidsson lives diagonally across the street and he didn’t see anything unusual, either. Linn popped in briefly to see him the evening before she died. I didn’t quite understand the reason for it.”

  Haraldsson stretched his back. He always found it difficult sitting still for a long time. He needed to move, and this meeting looked like it might be a long one. “Yeah, she borrowed his computer. Had to pay for some ticket for an overseas trip.”

  “That’s right. It was almost half past ten. He didn’t feel like letting her in. But she was very insistent. I suppose you would be if you had to book a trip.”

  “Do we know where and with who she was going to travel?” Hartman glared at Haraldsson, who’d sunk into his chair and stretched out his legs across the floor.

  “She didn’t mention anything about that to Arvidsson. We’ve asked him to hand in his computer. He’ll bring it in when he comes back to Gotland tonight.”

  “Anything else before we wrap up this meeting?” Hartman had a vague recollection of having seen a woman in reception who’d been asking for Maria Wern. He mentioned this to the others.

  “Jill Andersson. She absolutely wanted to talk to you, Maria. I said she’d have to wait until after the meeting. Can you deal with it? She lives in Tranhusgatan above the Botanical Gardens. How the hell could I forget to mention it?” Ek glanced at his watch. “I hope she’s still there.”

  “If we can finish this now I’ll get on to it right away.” Maria was already half out of her chair as she said it. She didn’t wait for an answer.

  CHAPTER 20

  JILL ANDERSSON WAS a woman in her forties with the body of a teenager. She was sportily dressed, with big gold rings in her ears and her dark hair tied up in a vertical, multi-colored pigtail that swayed as she walked with a light, bouncy gait down the corridor.

  “You wanted to talk to me,” said Maria once they’d sat down on either side of the desk. “I got the idea it was urgent.”

  At once, Jill looked both startled and serious. She stumbled over her words when she described why she was there. “I wanted to take back what I said before, to the other police. The whole thing was so sudden and I didn’t have time to think about it. I really didn’t see anything important, nothing at all. It just seems silly now.”

  “You said you saw a man carrying a sack. On the night of Linn Bogren’s murder in her home, not far from where you live. You said it was just past four in the morning.”

  “Yes, but I want to take that back now. It’s just something I blurted out. I don’t know where I got it from. Probably I mistook the day. Thought it was the weekend, and anyway I’m not sure it was a sack at all. It could have been anything.”

  “You’re not accused of anything, Jill. In the earlier interview, where you were questioned just for our information, you said there was a man who wore a hood over his face.”

  “Yeah but that was wrong. I probably got a bit flighty and I kind of added a few things I didn’t actually see. You know, you see a lot of that on the TV and before you know it your imagination is running away with you.”

  Maria watched and waited. Jill rubbed her nose and her gaze darted round the room without meeting Maria’s eyes. Her hands were clamped to the handle of her handbag, a cheap Gucci copy.

  “If anyone threatened you, Jill… ?”

  “No.” The answer came rapidly, before Maria had even had time to finish the question.

  “We can withhold your identity. You can leave us an anonymous tip. Did you see anything that night?”

  “I don’t remember, I said. I’m getting the days mixed up.” The fear in her light-blue eyes built up, and she blinked emphatically to hold back the tears.

  “You know, I think you told the truth the first time.” Maria leaned in closer, so that Jill could not avoid looking into her eyes. “I think you saw what you described to us, and that you regretted what you told us because you’re scared something terrible is going to happen to you if you do tell us.”

  “No! Did you hear what I said? I didn’t see anything.” Her voice sounded like the scream of a bird. Involuntarily Maria pulled back, then regained control of herself. She stayed where she was, leaning back and waiting.

  “There could be many reasons for not talking to us,” Maria carried on calmly. “Someone could have told you to keep quiet. Someone who’s threatened to harm you, or someone you know who you want to protect.”

  “I don’t remember, is that so bloody hard to understand?”

  “It could also be because you didn’t want to be seen at that hour. Maybe you were sneaking home after meeting a lover.…”

  “That’s the dumbest thing I ever heard. I don’t need to sneak around, I’m single, I can have sex with anyone I want! I just pick up the phone and make a date. There are still quite a few I can choose from.”

  “Congratulations – how very enviable. What were you doing out at four in the morning, Jill? It must have been something? What’s your line of work?”

  “I don’t work. I’m on sick leave.”

  “Why are you on sick leave?” The atmosphere in the room was growing more and more loaded. Maria was convinced now. This was where the problem lay. At first, Jill had candidly told them the truth and then once she’d had time to think about it, she’d realized what the consequences would be if it came to the attention of the Department of Social Security.

  “My back, but they can’t find anything. I get new doctors all the time but no one does anything.” She paused briefly. “I couldn’t stay in bed, my back was hurting. I had to move, so I went outside.”

  “This Monday morning at four o’clock?”

  “Yes… no, another morning.”

  “You wouldn’t by any chance have a night job you go to, a cleaning job?” Maria saw her facial expression change at once. The woman’s cheeks grew very flushed, and her voice was no longer quite as sharp when she said: “How else do you expect me to manage as a single mother? How else can I afford to give my children what other people’s children have just like that? New cell phones, computers, flat-screen TV. Trips abroad. How the hell am I supposed to afford all that, do you think? My husband died. We had no insurance policies. Suddenly his income wa
s just gone. If he’d met someone new and left me and the children, we’d have his child support to live on, at least. But the way it is now, it’s just so goddamn terrible. Not a month goes by when we break even. If I have to go to the dentist I can’t afford to let the children go on a school trip. Are you going to report me?”

  “I’m only interested in what you saw. So in fact it’s true, what you said to the police?”

  “Yes, I clean at nights and I was on my way home. I’d just passed the Catholic Church. The man with the sack came from behind and passed me. He turned off Vattugränd, down toward the Botanical Gardens.”

  “Did you see his face?” Maria shivered. If the man with the sack was the murderer… if there were an eyewitness, the investigation would be on a completely different level.

  “Not really. He was taller than me. 6’2”, perhaps. His face was thin, not round, anyway. He was quite skinny. Smelled of tobacco. I couldn’t see the color of his eyes. I sort of didn’t dare look at him.”

  “I’d like you to sit down with an artist and try to produce as clear a picture of him as you can.”

  “Now? I don’t have time. I have to pick up the kids from the youth center and run them down to the soccer field and we have to have time to eat. It’s not going to work.”

  “Can I send an artist over to you later tonight, after they’ve gone to bed? I can understand it’s hard for you to fit everything in, believe me.”

  “I remember something else.” Jill met Maria’s gaze with new focus. “He had a funny walk. Clumsy, sort of legs far apart. Hard to explain. He might have been drunk. Or walking in his sleep, sort of thing. My father used to walk in his sleep. It actually looked like that.”

  Maria went back to the others in the conference room and gave an account of Jill’s testimony. During their interval, Haraldsson had also had time to check a few things over the telephone.