With great difficulty, Anita didn’t rise to the bait. She hadn’t taken to Kristina Ekman on their first meeting. Now that unfavourable impression was replaced by unadulterated dislike. Just then the phone rang. ‘Excuse me.’ Kristina got up and went over to the instrument, which sat on an intricately carved wooden table in the corner of the room. It looked Indian and expensive.
‘Titti speaking.’ She listened carefully to a voice on the other end of the line. ‘I’ll have to call you back. I have the police with me at the moment, but they’ll be gone very soon.’ Another pause. ‘Speak to you in a minute.’
Kristina returned to her seat. She reached over to a small black lacquered Chinese box on the coffee table and took out a cigarette, which she twirled in her fingers. She didn’t attempt to light it.
Anita was about to resume when Hakim jumped in.
‘What were your husband’s political beliefs? Views on immigration?’
Kristina studied Hakim before answering. She made no effort to hide her contempt. ‘He was a man who believed in Sweden.’
‘That could mean anything.’ Hakim carried on, ignoring Anita’s warning glance. ‘What did he vote, for example?’
‘That was between Tommy and the ballot box. But if you want to know what his political persuasions were: he supported governments that he felt were in tune with the needs of entrepreneurial businesses like his own. As for immigration, Tommy thought that if ethnics were prepared to work and not scrounge off the system, then they had a part to play in Swedish society.’
‘And did he employ any “ethnics”?’ There was real anger in Hakim’s voice.
‘That’s enough, Hakim,’ Anita snapped. ‘Fru Ekman, I apologize for my colleague’s over-eagerness. But we do need to establish where your husband was on Saturday, April 16th.’
Kristina stood up again. This time she wandered over to a small chest of drawers. Even in jeans and a casual cream summer top, she retained a sophisticated elegance. She pulled open the top drawer. Anita thought she was about to produce a diary or filofax, but instead it was a silver lighter. She lit her cigarette, returned the lighter to the drawer and pushed it shut.
‘That’s simple enough. I was over at Illstorp with my father that weekend.’
Anita hopes were raised. This could be the confirmation they needed that the murder victims were all together at Wollstad’s.
‘As for Tommy, he was in Hong Kong.’
‘Hong Kong?’ This was a blow.
‘Yes. Hong Kong. He was out there on business. The Chinese market is becoming more important.’ Kristina Ekman puffed on her cigarette and then let a delicate stream of smoke escape from her lips. ‘So, that can’t be Tommy on your list – or my father. I was with him all that day. I can assure you that neither Ingvar Serneholt nor that banker came anywhere near the family home. I suggest that you spend less time worrying about silly little lists and make more of an effort to find my husband’s murderer.’
They had reached the man-made lake. The light breeze caused a slight ripple on the surface of the clear water. No invasive duck weed to be seen. The grass round the lake was neatly cut, though the vegetation on the banks themselves had been allowed to grow just enough to give the waterside verges a semblance of wildness. On the far side, a family of ducks was swimming serenely towards the cover of some tall reeds. In the middle two swans circled slowly.
‘Magnificent creatures. I love swans. Strong. Independent.’
Westermark assumed that Dag Wollstad was equating the birds with himself. And why not? The house and grounds were a testament to Wollstad’s hard work and ultimate success. Westermark had contrasting emotions when meeting wealthy people, which he only did through his job. There was always a mixture of envy and admiration. Envy he reserved for those with money who hadn’t accrued it through graft or had used other people to help them up the greasy pole. Like Serenholt and Ekman. Wollstad was different. Such was the scale of his tangible achievement that all Westermark could do was award him total respect. Westermark had never been within sniffing distance of such staggering affluence before. The industrialist had already given him a tour of some of the rooms of the house. Now, one of Sweden’s richest men was taking him down the wide gravel drive and through an estate that only money could have created. The style was formal, but without the flair of the French or the Italian landscapers. White, rectangular tubs, containing dwarf conifers, were placed at regular intervals along the drive, on either side of which well-cut lawns melded into birch and pine woodland. It made Westermark feel good. Wollstad was talking to him as an equal, and not as some annoying policeman who had disturbed his busy schedule.
They had already discussed the November 6th list. Wollstad had to call his PA to confirm that he was at home all that weekend and that Titti, his affectionate diminutive of Kristina, and the grandchildren had been there also, as Tommy had been away in Hong Kong on business. And he certainly wasn’t the DW on the list. Ingvar Serneholt and Martin Olofsson might be in the group, but that was their business. ‘Sounds to me more like a social circle.’ Of course, he knew Olofsson through Sydöstra Banken. He had held him in very high regard as an efficient and sound banker. He also knew that Olofsson had been friendly with Tommy, as they had sometimes played at the Österlen Golf Club at weekends. To his knowledge, Olofsson had never been out to Illstorp. As for Serneholt, he had met him a couple of times on social occasions. The last time? Probably about three years ago. When he was younger, he had come across Serneholt’s father while still working at Swedish Match. From what he remembered, Serneholt senior had died some years ago.
Wollstad had dismissed the police offer of protection, as he was sure that he was not an intended target. ‘Anyhow, I can handle my own security.’ Westermark could believe it. However, Wollstad was seriously concerned that there seemed to be little progress in finding the killer of his son-in-law and of such a respected banker as Martin Olofsson. Quick action was needed on these murders to restore the commercial sector’s confidence in the police. It didn’t look good for the Scanian business community. As he felt he was now in Wollstad’s confidence, Westermark had gone beyond what he should say about the investigation, discussing how he had cleverly connected Nilsson to Ekman and Olofsson. And now that Wollstad and Ekman had nothing to do with the list, then Sundström’s only thread connecting the three murders was snapped. He would enjoy telling her.
They came to a halt at the water’s edge.
‘I hear positive things about you, Karl. It is Karl?’
‘Yes, sir.’ Westermark felt a swell of pride.
‘I’m assured that you’re destined for great things. And I’m sure finding my son-in-law’s killer, and that of Martin Olofsson, would further your career.’
‘I am desperate... we are desperate to conclude this case. However, the Serneholt killing has caused complications. Muddying the waters, as it were.’
‘I understand. And is anyone in particular muddying said waters?’
Westermark saw his chance and slyly tiptoed as he stuck the knife in. ‘Inspector Anita Sundström and her sidekick, enthusiastic though they undoubtedly are, tend to clutch at rather tenuous straws. Hakim,’ he said slowly to emphasise the name, and accompanied doing so by raising his eyebrows, ‘is a trainee, and perhaps can be forgiven. He found that list I showed you and Sundström seems convinced there’s a link between the three murders. She also found a DVD in Olofsson’s briefcase with a British cleric spouting some pretty out-there views about immigrants and Jews and suchlike. Not all that daft, some of them in my opinion, but that’s by the by.’
‘Does he have a name? The cleric?’
‘Bishop Green.’
Wollstad shook his head. The name obviously meant nothing.
‘Anyway, the DVD was filmed in Serneholt’s house. Hence the link.’
‘But you obviously don’t consider there is one.’
‘No. I think the Ingvar Serneholt and Martin Olofsson connection is coincidental. But Sundström h
as come up with a theory that there’s some right-wing conspiracy – this “November 6th Group” - that the killer cottoned on to, and is using the list for his targets. Waste of time, if you ask me.’
Wollstad turned away from the lake and began to wander back through the grounds towards the house.
‘Like me, you don’t appreciate time-wasters. Karl, I wonder if I can ask a favour of you?’
‘Don’t ever do that again!’ Anita was furious with Hakim. They were in the lift on the way down to the ground floor of Kristina Ekman’s building. ‘In situations like that I ask the questions and you keep your mouth shut. I’m the senior officer. Your job is to listen and learn.’
Hakim shuffled awkwardly before of her glare. He looked like a recalcitrant child, and that immediately softened Anita’s anger.
‘I don’t like her either but that’s no excuse to be aggressive in your questioning. You have to remember that she’s lost her husband. Also she happens to be a Wollstad, so that means that we have to treat her with kid gloves. If this gets back to Moberg, we’ll both be in trouble.’
The lift came to a halt and the doors slid open. They made their way through the foyer and onto the street. The traffic noise hit them. Up in the apartment the sounds had been muffled. Good triple glazing.
‘Pity about Tommy Ekman being in Hong Kong. Rather ruins the theory that they were all in something together.’
Anita was annoyed with herself as much as with Hakim. The list had appeared a real breakthrough. Now they still couldn’t connect Tommy Ekman to Ingvar Serneholt. They were back to square one. No motives, no suspects.
By now they were in Drottningtorget. Her favourite ice-cream parlour was across the square.
‘Do you want an ice cream?’
Hakim mumbled a sheepish ‘Yes.’
‘Not that you bloody deserve it.’ Neither of them did.
CHAPTER 34
The whole team discussed the evidence so far. Thulin was brought in to go over the forensics again. No traces of the murderer at Ekman’s apartment. There was no way of verifying the substance used to cause the gas that had killed him, other than it was encased in jelly. It could be Zyklon B if the perpetrator had been able to get hold of an old wartime supply.
They had found female hair in Olofsson’s car, but that had turned out to be his wife’s. No fingerprints anywhere and no murder weapon, though Thulin was now 90% sure that it was a heavy spanner, judging by the trauma marks. A couple of strong whacks by someone who must have been in the back seat at the time of the assault. That meant the killer was already in the car, or had slipped in while Olofsson was parking the vehicle in the garage. The killer must have taken the spanner away with him, as a thorough search of the surrounding area had yielded nothing.
With Serneholt, they knew the murder weapon of course – a scalpel. As for evidence of visitors to the house, that was nigh on impossible. Serneholt had held a party there a few nights before, so it was difficult to isolate any individual.
There was no trace of the mystery jogger, who hadn’t been seen again in either murder location since. Medium height, dark blue hooded top and black backpack was the best description they had. And, on the night of Serneholt’s murder, definitely wearing gloves, which, if he was the perpetrator, would explain the lack of fingerprints on the picture frame at Serneholt’s – and possibly the same explanation would cover Olofsson’s car. They had already talked through Westermark’s visit to Dag Wollstad’s and Anita’s to Kristina Ekman’s. Westermark had taken particular delight in pointing out that Tommy Ekman was on the other side of the world on April 16th. ‘And Dag Wollstad said he wasn’t at any meeting with Serneholt or Olofsson. He had only met Serneholt at a couple of social gatherings, and the last was around three years ago. So, there’s no link there.’
‘Do you believe him?’ asked Moberg, more out of hope than expectation.
‘I think he’s a very honourable man.’
Moberg could see that their impressions of the industrialist were totally different. Just because he personally couldn’t stand Wollstad, it didn’t follow that Westermark wasn’t right. He must learn to have more respect for Westermark’s judgement. After all, he had been right all along about Ewan Strachan being Malin Lovgren’s killer.
It was time for Moberg to summarize the cases so far and decide on some action.
‘Tommy Ekman is gassed in his shower. Martin Olofsson is killed in his car. Both are linked through business, and now we know socially, through playing golf over in Österlen. There are similarities in the way they were killed – well, gas was involved in both crime scenes. Nilsson is our best bet so far, as he had motives to get rid of them both. Trouble is we can’t place him at the scene of either killing.’
Moberg stood up and pointed to the photograph of Serneholt sitting on his sofa, gorily covered in blood. ‘Then we have Ingvar Serneholt. Art collector-cum-playboy who has a painting stolen – one of three thefts involving works by Pelle Munk. This may be exactly what it seems – an art theft gone wrong.’ He waved a hand in the direction of Stig Gabrielsson’s photograph. ‘And Gabrielsson seems to have done a bunk. So, he may well be up to his neck in the Serneholt business.
‘On the other hand, Serneholt is linked to Olofsson because of the Bishop Green film. That implies that they both hold very radical right-wing views. On top of that, we have “The November 6th Group” list, which appears to link them again. But the list also dismisses any connection with Tommy Ekman, as we know he was thousands of miles away on that date. And possibly Dag Wollstad can be discounted too; according to what he told Westermark, he isn’t the DW. And Kristina Ekman denies that neither she nor her husband ever met Serneholt. Basically, there’s absolutely nothing that joins Ekman to Serneholt; therefore I don’t believe that the three murders are connected. My gut feeling is that two of them are, but the problem we have is whether the combination is Ekman and Olofsson or Olofsson and Serneholt. Our mystery jogger was seen around the homes of the latter. Is that another connection or a coincidence? Are there two joggers wearing similar gear, given that the locations are about fifteen kilometres apart? At the moment, we have to assume that there are two murderers out there. Thoughts?’ Moberg’s exasperation with the situation was evident in his voice, though he was trying hard to be systematic in his approach.
There was a reflective silence in the room. Then Nordlund spoke.
‘Given that we have no reason to believe that Ekman has any right-wing views - and that Dag Wollstad has been known to give money to the Social Democrats in the past - then my right-wing theory is probably off the mark. I’ve been too influenced by that invidious recording of the bishop’s. It’s probably an irrelevance in terms of the killings. And the Gustav Adolf link is tenuous at best, so may I suggest we go back to the beginning?’
‘In what way?’ Moberg asked.
‘Tommy Ekman’s murder. That’s where it all began. We’re pretty sure that only someone at the advertising agency could have had the opportunity to plant the poisonous crystals. Unless it’s some grand scheme where Wollstad is getting rid of business rivals or a misbehaving son-in-law, I suggest that we go over all the evidence again to see if we’ve missed something. Maybe if Anita got involved. A fresh eye. Maybe she could re-interview those who we know were in Ekman’s office the day before the murder.’
‘Why? What’s she going to find that we didn’t?’ After his moment of triumph over the Hong Kong revelation, Westermark wasn’t keen to see Anita reinstated in the heart of the investigation. ‘It could still be Nilsson.’
‘I still think it is,’ agreed Moberg. ‘In that case we’re looking at the Ekman and Olofsson killings being linked, as Nilsson couldn’t have murdered Serneholt, as he was in custody. Besides, he has no motive to get rid of Serneholt. Westermark, I want you to carry on looking for the evidence we need to nail Nilsson for the Olofsson murder. I want you to interview everybody who lives in that vicinity again. We need a sighting. And we need to find that bloody jog
ger, or joggers. But, as we can’t rely on that, I think Henrik is right. We must take another look at the agency. Sundström, you can talk to all the people again and double check their stories.’
This was more like it, Anita thought. ‘As you believe there’s a link between the Ekman and Olofsson murders, presumably we need to try and establish if the principal agency people have alibis for the second killing.’
‘Yeah.’
‘And can I talk to Nilsson?’ Anita asked.
Westermark shook his head vigorously. Moberg ignored his silent protest.
‘Yes. But don’t balls it up.’
Anita worked late at her desk that evening going through all the statements and evidence gathered so far on the Ekman murder. She had talked to Nordlund beforehand and he’d put her in the picture with his impressions of the case. He had suggested that she also discuss it with Westermark, as he had carried out the questioning at the advertising agency. She ignored that particular piece of advice. She noticed that Klara Wallen had been at most of the initial interviews, so she would have a word with her in the morning.
Those who had been in the office during the day, and again that night for the celebration, were the financial director, Bo Nilsson; Daniel Johansson, Ekman’s business partner and creative director; Elin Marklund, the account manager, and Sven Lundin, the head of media. The latter three had been at the early-morning meeting prior to the new business pitch. They were all at the evening drinks; Nilsson had popped in during the day to drop off some spreadsheets, according to Ekman’s PA, Viktoria Carlsson. Carlsson was there all day, except during her lunch hour when her place was taken by another secretary, Ida Kanfors, as Ekman always insisted there was someone on hand if a call came through to his office. Kanfors reported that no one had entered Ekman’s office during that time.
The team had established that Nilsson and Johansson had had opportunities during the day to go to Ekman’s apartment. Sven Lundin could account for his movements all day, and both the secretaries were with other members of staff when they went out for lunch. Kanfors wasn’t at the celebration that evening, so she was ruled out. Elin Marklund was the most interesting, in that she had made love to Ekman, so was hardly likely to kill him, unless there was something darker about the relationship. Her movements appeared to be accounted for, and she was more concerned about her husband finding out that she had been unfaithful.
Murder in Malmö: The second Inspector Anita Sundström mystery (Inspector Anita Sundström mysteries) Page 22