Murder in Malmö: The second Inspector Anita Sundström mystery (Inspector Anita Sundström mysteries)

by MacLeod, Torquil

  ‘Anita, I came in here to ask you out for a drink after work.’

  ‘Karl, it’s a waste of time. I don’t want to have a drink with you.’

  Instead of taking the hint, Westermark sat down on the chair in front of her desk.

  ‘I thought it would be a good chance to put any previous misunderstandings behind us. There’s so much for us to talk about.’

  ‘I can’t think of a single thing.’

  He gave a thoughtful frown. ‘I can think of something. How about your visits to Ewan Strachan in prison?’

  This gave Anita a jolt. How had Westermark found out?

  ‘Of course, I could have a drink with the chief inspector instead and discuss it with him.’

  Anita felt a surge of panic. A bead of sweat trickled down her back. Ewan was private. He was a hidden part of her life. Questions would be asked as to why she had gone there. The prison authorities would report that it had been on “police business”. What “police business”? Her standing in the department was already at rock bottom. Stories circulating that she was seeing Strachan, the convicted murderer, would call into question her motives behind the shooting of Mick Roslyn at the top of the Turning Torso. They would wonder whether she had been trying to protect her lover all along. Given the spin someone like Westermark would put on the story, her career as a detective would be finished. And the bastard knew it.

  ‘How about that place on Eric Dahlbergsgatan? Where the department went for a drink last Christmas. About seven?’

  Westermark smiled as he left.

  CHAPTER 29

  Anita cradled a glass of white wine as she waited nervously. She was at one of the tables that spilled onto the pavement whenever the weather justified it. It was just warm enough to be able to sit outside, though in an hour it might be too cold. Hopefully she would be back in her apartment by then. She had made sure that she got to the bar first so that she could choose her ground. It was darker inside, and she didn’t want Westermark to get any ideas.

  The afternoon had been wasted wondering how she was going to deal with a randy Westermark who had discovered her guilty secret. Somehow she was going to have to provide an explanation for her prison visits, or Westermark would make the most of the situation. He would give her a simple choice – lose her career or sleep with him. She had been distracted when Hakim reported that Victor Ingelin, the man who attacked Ingvar Serneholt in a fit of understandable jealousy, was up north visiting family. He had been away from Malmö since before the murder, so that was a dead end.

  ‘You’re looking sexy tonight.’

  Anita squinted, the evening sun glinting on her glasses. Westermark had made an effort and was wearing a new shirt and trousers. He stank of some aftershave that made Anita wince. She was glad that she had just come in the clothes she had put on that morning. Her jeans needed washing, but they weren’t putting Westermark off. His leer made her self-conscious about the close-fitting blue v-necked t-shirt she was wearing. Too much cleavage? She wished she’d put on a burka.

  ‘Are you sure you want to sit out here?’

  ‘It’s safer.’

  He laughed and pointed to her drink. ‘Another?’ Anita shook her head.

  By the time Westermark sat down opposite her with his bottle of beer, she had decided what to say about Ewan. He took her off guard when he mentioned his case.

  ‘We’re struggling with Nilsson. Little prick won’t crack. Circumstantial evidence isn’t good enough for that bitch Blom. It’s driving Moberg demented.’

  ‘And you?’

  ‘Not totally convinced. I made the connection between Ekman and Olofsson, and then tied in Nilsson, but something’s not right.’

  Anita was surprised that Westermark was admitting to having misgivings. He was an arrogant man with few self doubts. There was no denying that he was more than a competent detective. After all, it was he who had reckoned that Ewan was guilty of Malin Lovgren’s murder right from the beginning. His problem was that he thought, too often, with his balls.

  ‘Maybe the two murders are connected, but you’ve got the wrong link.’ Anita hadn’t given it much thought since being pushed off the case, but Nordlund had filled her in on some of the Ekman details that had been denied to her. There were still unanswered questions from her own dealings with the Olofsson killing. Maybe his “golfing” trips and Kristina Ekman’s lie about Olofsson’s visit to Wollstad’s estate were more significant than Moberg had thought.

  ‘Talking of the wrong link, how’s the “boyfriend”? The unpleasant sneer had returned.

  ‘How did you know?’

  ‘I asked your Arab sidekick where you were the other day. He said he’d dropped you off on Lundavägen. You don’t have to be a detective to work out where you were heading, but it helps. I checked things out and I discovered it was your second recent visit and that you requested to see a prisoner called Ewan Strachan.’ He was very pleased with himself.

  ‘There is a reason for it.’

  ‘I’m not interested. I just want to make sure that news of your secret assignations doesn’t go any further. Come back to my place tonight and it won’t. You know you want to, really.’ Anita just stared at him. ‘We’d make great love.’

  ‘Do you have to blackmail women to get them into the sack?’

  Westermark was totally unabashed. ‘Not usually. But you’ve been a harder nut to crack. You can’t resist forever. And afterwards I’m sure it would improve our working relationship.’

  ‘Well, I’m afraid you’re going to have to remain disappointed... and frustrated. There’s a good reason for visiting Strachan.’

  Westermark raised a sceptical eyebrow. She took an inward gulp of air before diving into her story.

  ‘If you remember, Strachan and Roslyn fell out over a girl at Durham University. She supposedly committed suicide, but Gazzard, the British inspector, thought that one of them had actually pushed her off the cathedral tower. I was trying find out the truth so that I could put Gazzard out of his misery.’

  She could see the flicker of uncertainty in his eyes. Was he falling for her lie? Despite the need to get Westermark off her back, she couldn’t help feeling guilty about betraying Ewan. But she could never ever admit to anyone, outside the psychologist’s consulting room, her love for him.

  ‘And did he tell you? He seems to make a habit of confessing to you,’ he added nastily. Anita knew then that she had won.

  ‘No. Maybe it was suicide all along.’

  Westermark simply grunted.

  ‘Sorry, Karl, but I’ll have to turn down your kind offer.’ She drained her glass in an unladylike manner and stood up. ‘We mustn’t do this again sometime.’ She left him scowling.

  The dream was so weird that it woke Anita up. Even though she couldn’t remember the content, it had left her unsettled. She glanced at the digital bedside clock. The fluorescent red 4:03 looked at her accusingly, as though she had no right to be awake at such an hour. She knew that going back to sleep was impossible. Of all the things that were flashing through her mind, as she got up and went to the kitchen, it was Henrik Nordlund’s question about Gustav Adolf that came to the forefront. She hadn’t noticed any representations of the famous Swedish king in Olofsson’s house, but there had been something. Now what was it? She put a small pan of water on the hob. It was too early for coffee. Tea was more soothing at this hour. She popped an Earl Grey teabag into a mug. Then the dream came back to her. She had been on the verge of making love and she had had an awful feeling that it was with Westermark. She shuddered and desperately pushed the image out of her mind. Fortunately, it was quickly replaced by the realization that there had been a Gustav Adolf connection with Martin Olofsson. The DVD. The barbarous British bishop. As she poured the boiling water into the mug she tried to dredge up the reference. She had been so disgusted by Bishop Green’s general message of hatred that she hadn’t taken in specific references. But there was definitely something about Gustav Adolf, or the name he was known
by in Britain, Gustavus Adolfus.

  Anita drank her tea quickly, got dressed and was in her car by twenty-five past four. The streets on the way to the polishus were empty, the only traffic was a couple of clanking dustcarts. She parked in the police car park and made her way into headquarters. Two weary cops passed her with barely a glance. She didn’t recognize them and assumed they were part of the extra police brought in from other forces to find the “Malmö Marksman”. She knew that everybody was on high alert, as it was now suspected that the killer was a professional. The young couple who had been murdered outside the supermarket had both been shot cleanly in the forehead. The gunman had to be good to hit two people so quickly and so accurately.

  Anita reached her office and switched her computer on. While it was galvanizing itself into action she slipped along the corridor to the coffee machine and got a cup. On her return she took the After the Frost DVD out of her desk drawer and slipped the disc into the machine. Bishop Green came on screen and started speaking. She tried to remember where the Gustav Adolf reference came. It wasn’t at the beginning. She started to flick through. Then she remembered. It was at the end. She flicked on and then stopped and watched. This was the bit.

  ‘But before that can become a reality, you are the forefront of a battle to cleanse Swedish society of the alien races that infest your streets. Your hero Gustavus Adolphus said: “War is not a river, or a lake, but an ocean of all that is evil.” Your war is here and now. Take courage, for the one true God is with you in your work.’

  Well, there it was. But what was the significance? What was it that troubled Henrik Nordlund? Serneholt had a painting of the king. So did Dag Wollstad. Half Sweden probably had some reference to Gustav Adolf in their homes. Olofsson had this message in his briefcase. And Nordlund had mentioned to her the empty file on Ekman’s computer entitled “Sjätte November”, which was the date of Gustav Adolf’s Day. So what?

  Anita drank her coffee pensively. She should have stayed at home and gone back to bed. Now she was wide awake in the office at five in the morning. She idly flicked through the disc again and then replayed the Gustav Adolf reference. Nothing. She was about to unload the disc when she suddenly sat bolt upright. Slowly she put down her coffee cup. She stared at the screen. She flicked the image back, then freeze-framed it. There is was; the thing that she hadn’t been able to put her finger on.

  ‘Oh, my God,’ she whispered under her breath. ‘This is going to turn everything upside down.’

  CHAPTER 30

  Anita was nervous. She had set up the computer so that she could show the image on a big smartboard in the meeting room. After making her discovery she had gone for a long walk around the streets of the city centre so she could get things straight in her mind. She passed the early risers, the office cleaners and the day-break commuters before calling into a small café when it opened at six. She sat down and called Nordlund. Fortunately, she hadn’t woken him, and she briefly explained what had happened. She could hear the excitement in his reaction to her news. He would be in the polishus by seven and they could discuss what to do next. Moberg wasn’t going to be pleased, so Nordlund suggested that they prepare thoroughly before breaking the news. As Anita fiddled with her pile of notes, she knew Moberg’s biggest problem would be why she hadn’t reported the bishop’s disc before, or handed it in to Westermark with the other contents of Olofsson’s briefcase. God knows what Westermark’s reaction would be, particularly after his unsuccessful attempt to blackmail her into slipping in between his sheets.

  Once the meeting started, there was Moberg, Nordlund, Westermark, Wallen and Hakim all seated round the table. Westermark’s stare was hostile. Nordlund, who as far as Moberg was concerned was handling the Serneholt case, opened the proceedings.

  ‘In the course of our investigation into the murder of Ingvar Serneholt, we’ve discovered a link with Martin Olofsson, which might be hugely significant. I think the best way to start is for Anita to play a DVD of a speech by a British bishop called Green.’

  ‘Where’s this disc come from?’ Moberg asked.

  Anita held up the After the Frost DVD cover. ‘It was in this.’

  ‘But where did that come from?’ Westermark was immediately suspicious as he thought there had only been one DVD in Olofsson’s briefcase – a James Bond movie.

  Anita paused. ‘It was in Olofsson’s briefcase.’

  ‘What the hell are you doing with it?’ Westermark exploded.

  ‘I thought it was an ordinary programme. I hadn’t seen it before. It was only when I played it I realized that it was something different.’ There was a kernel of truth in her explanation.

  ‘This is fucking outrageous—‘

  ‘That’s enough, Karl! I’ll sort it out afterwards,’ said Moberg ominously. ‘Let’s just bloody well get on with this.’

  Anita played the disc to the assembled detectives. They watched in amazement as the clergyman poured forth his epistle of hatred. When it stopped, the room was in silence. It was broken by Westermark.

  ‘He has a point.’

  Before Anita had a chance to angrily jump in – she had seen Hakim’s discomfort as the film was playing – Moberg turned to Westermark.

  ‘Don’t ever say anything like that in my hearing again. It’s people like that clerical twat that make our job even harder.’ He looked across to Anita. ‘Carry on.’

  ‘We’ll go into what he said later. Henrik’s got some views on that. But I want you to look closely at this.’ She flicked back the disc and then freeze-framed the image. The bishop was sitting on a chair.

  ‘And?’ said Moberg.

  ‘I want you to look carefully at the top left hand corner. Above his head. Can you see? It’s the bottom of a painting.’

  ‘It just looks like squiggles to me,’ said Wallen.

  ‘Exactly. Squiggly silver lines against a blue background.’ Anita enlarged the corner of the painting on the smartboard screen. ‘The painting is called Reflex and it’s by Pelle Munk. This hangs in the gallery section of Ingvar Serneholt’s house. This film must have been shot there. So why has Martin Olofsson got a copy of a film of Bishop Green? This is a call to arms to people with extreme right-wing views. Is there anything in your investigations that point to Olofsson’s political leanings?’

  ‘No,’ answered Moberg. ‘This could all be coincidence.’

  ‘But it could mean that Serneholt’s murder wasn’t anything to do with stealing a Munk painting. By pinching the artwork maybe the murderer is deliberately steering us in the wrong direction. Whatever, we have a link between Olofsson and Serneholt.’

  Moberg turned his large frame so that he was facing Nordlund. ‘What do you think, Henrik?’

  ‘The views expressed by Bishop Green suddenly throw a political angle into our investigations. I mentioned at the beginning that I thought that the manner in which Ekman and Olofsson were killed was significant.’

  ‘You mean the gassings?’

  ‘Yes. Ekman was gassed in a shower. Olofsson was found dead in a car full of fumes. We know that he was actually killed by a blow to the head. The gas was a statement. Zyklon B and carbon monoxide were both used by the Nazis in the concentration camps to obliterate the Jews. Serneholt had his throat cut. The Nazis were happy to kill that way too. OK, that’s pretty tenuous, but what if all these men are connected by political views and that the murderer is someone of diametrically opposed opinions who’s reeking revenge on people he sees as racist, fascists, what you will?’

  ‘But we have no proof that Ekman was like that.’ responded Moberg.

  ‘No. But there’s another strange connection with the three of them. Gustav Adolf.’

  ‘Oh, come on, Henrik. What’s some ancient monarch got to do with things? We need evidence, not theory. I can see where you are going with this, though. If you’re right, and Serneholt’s murder is somehow connected to the other two, then Nilsson’s in the clear, because we were looking after him downstairs when the crime was committ
ed. I’m still not convinced there’s a connection to Ekman, but I’m prepared to keep an open mind. Do we know where this bishop is?’

  ‘We’re trying to find out,’ answered Anita. ‘But it’s highly unlikely that he’s still in Sweden.’

  ‘We need to look into the backgrounds of all three victims and see if there’s a right-wing slant to all this. And Nilsson too. Well, one thing’s for sure, it’s certainly not the work of the “Malmo Marksman”, because his victims are all on the other side.”

  ‘At least we’ve made a start with the chief inspector.’ Anita had to agree with Nordlund, though she wasn’t sure that they would get Moberg totally on board. He certainly wasn’t going to lump the cases into one investigation. The others had left; except Hakim, who was helping sort out the computer. He was the one who had set it up for her before the meeting. Youth had its uses.

  ‘Inspector Nordlund, you mentioned Gustav Adolf,’ said Hakim as he clicked the laptop lid shut. ‘So did that horrible priest, though he called him Gustavus Adolphus. I don’t know much about him except for his name day and the square in the centre of town.’

  ‘Don’t schools teach any Swedish history anymore?’ Anita sighed.

  ‘Actually the square in town is named after a different Gustav Adolf. Gustav the Fourth. That’s because he ruled the country from Malmö briefly, before he was disposed. No, our Gustav Adolf – Gustav the Second - was Sweden’s most famous monarch, coming to the throne in 1611 at the age of seventeen. After his death he became known as Gustav Adolf the Great. The rest of Europe knows him by the Latinized name, Gustavus Adolphus. He was a masterful soldier and led Sweden to military supremacy during what was known as the Thirty Years War.’ Anita was amused to see Nordlund become so animated. This was a side of his character she hadn’t seen before. ‘He had many military successes, like the Battle of Breitenfeld, which saw a victory for a protestant alliance over the German Roman Catholics. Through that he changed the political, as well as the religious, balance of power in Europe. He was poised to become a truly great European leader when he was killed on November 6th at the Battle of Lützen in 1632.’