The Sword of Justice

by Leif G. W. Persson

  ‘What about the other two?’ Lisa Lamm asked.

  The second reason was the calculations Eriksson had done on the same document. They showed a difference between the payment in pounds and the payment in kronor on the sale of the painting in question. The result was nine hundred and sixty-two thousand kronor, after the usual deductions for fees and VAT.

  ‘Yesterday afternoon, after the boss and I talked about this, I called an old friend who works for our colleagues in London, specializing in art fraud,’ Nadja said. ‘He spoke to his contact at Sotheby’s last night, and this morning he emailed a copy of the statement of account, in British pounds, that the auction firm sent to von Comer. A statement that he amended, replacing the pounds with Swedish kronor, which gives a difference of nine hundred and sixty-two thousand.’

  ‘The statement in Swedish kronor that von Comer is supposed to have given Eriksson—’

  ‘I found that yesterday,’ Nadja interrupted, nodding to Lisa Lamm. ‘It was among the files we seized from Eriksson’s office.’

  ‘Were you able to find out who Eriksson’s client was?’ Lisa Lamm asked.

  ‘No,’ Nadja said. ‘The simplest solution is probably to conduct another interview with his colleague, Danielsson. If Eriksson was commissioned to conduct the sale, there ought to be a power of attorney at the law firm. Hopefully, a few invoices as well. For the firm’s fees, if nothing else.’

  ‘Good,’ Lisa Lamm said. ‘We’ll have another word with Danielsson about that. And anyone else in the firm who might have known about it.’

  ‘Noted,’ Annika Carlsson said with a nod. Let’s get those fuckers, she thought, squeeze them till they squeak, and preferably a bit further.

  ‘I also agree with Bäckström about the contents of those white removal boxes,’ Nadja went on. ‘We’re talking about a total of eleven icons out of an original collection of fifteen, and I’ve managed to work out their dimensions, with the boss’s help. They’d need at least a couple of removal boxes if they were going to carry them about. That’s the third reason why I agree with Bäckström. The collected value of these paintings is around three million. A very plausible motive,’ she concluded, and for some reason she nodded in Alm’s direction.

  Nothing much wrong with that Russian, Bäckström thought. And she knows her vodka. Mind you, she looks terrible. The only thing missing is stainless-steel teeth. Might have to get her some next time she has a significant birthday, he thought.

  ‘Very interesting,’ Lisa Lamm said, looking as if she really meant it. ‘Based on what you’ve already said, there seems to be a fair amount of evidence to suggest that von Comer is guilty of at least one count of attempted fraud. That ought to be enough grounds for reasonable suspicion.’

  ‘We could do with talking to his bank,’ Nadja said. ‘And trying to find out if he’s withdrawn a million kronor in cash recently. I’d also like us to seize his computer, so we can check if he’s altered any statements of account. As well as anything else he might have got up to. Who knows? If we’re lucky, maybe he’s got the paintings in his house, hidden away in the cellar. That sort of thing’s happened before.’

  ‘I agree with you,’ Lisa Lamm said. ‘How do you want us to deal with this, Bäckström?’

  ‘We start with the bank. Right away. Then we bring von Comer in first thing tomorrow morning, when we also conduct a search of his home. We get hold of his computer and anything else interesting, like Nadja just said. We can hold back on the suspected murder charge until we’ve got him in here to explain the rest of it.’

  ‘Done,’ Lisa Lamm said, now looking thoroughly delighted.

  ‘Exactly,’ Bäckström said. ‘If you’re going to make an omelette, you’ve got to crack a few eggs.’ Must call my reporter so he can get some good pictures of us carrying out the search. Ideally with Drottningholm Palace in the background. This is definitely a six-figure tip-off, he thought.

  The king’s best friend …

  92

  That leaves one practical problem, Bäckström thought as soon as he was back in his room and had shut the door behind him. Making sure that little court faggot didn’t start babbling about Pinocchio and his long nose. The easiest way to deal with that is probably to conduct the interview with him myself, and make sure we stick to the other stuff. Before I scare the shit out of him. Yes, that’ll do, he thought. Upon which, inevitably, there was a knock on his door.

  ‘What can I do for you, Rosita?’ Bäckström asked. Not good. Practically a bad omen, he thought, because, although she looked like thunder, as usual, she seemed almost excited. In the happy sense, unfortunately, he thought.

  ‘The question is more what I can do for you,’ Rosita Andersson-Trygg said, smiling and waving the photofit picture of García Gomez.

  ‘Let me guess,’ Bäckström said, sinking back in his chair and folding his hands over his stomach. ‘You’ve spent the morning showing our photofit picture of Angel García Gomez to your friends in the rabbit and hamster unit down in the city centre.’

  ‘Yes,’ Rosita Andersson-Trygg said. ‘How could you know—?’

  ‘Because his police record includes the fact that he is suspected of putting on organized dog-fights, I could have guessed that’s where you were going to end up.’

  ‘Yes, well then. So you can see why I wanted to talk to our colleagues in Animal Protection.’

  ‘The problem is that you really should have left that the hell alone,’ Bäckström said, smiling amiably. ‘Because we worked that out all by ourselves as early as last week. In your absence, if you’re wondering.’

  ‘I took some time owing,’ Andersson-Trygg said in an aggrieved tone. ‘In case you were wondering why.’

  ‘I don’t give a damn,’ Bäckström said. ‘I’m assuming that you’re going to make sure that the police division of the animal rights movement keep their paws off my murder investigation.’

  ‘In purely formal terms, there’s nothing to stop them opening up their own investigation into the aggravated animal cruelty that there’s good reason to suspect García Gomez of committing,’ Andersson-Trygg protested.

  ‘Bollocks,’ Bäckström said. ‘If that idea even pops into their heads, I’ll send both them and you to get dewormed.’

  ‘I really must pro—’

  ‘I haven’t finished,’ Bäckström interrupted, raising his hand. ‘You can forget all about that job as animal welfare officer out here if you don’t do as I say. There are three alternatives that you need to consider. Preferably sooner rather than later, because I’m planning to take care of this little detail today.’

  ‘What do you mean, three alternatives? What are they?’

  ‘Well, you can either help the boys down in the garage to wash the cars, or move to Lost Property over on Kungsholmen. Or the parking office out in Vestberga. Your choice,’ Bäckström said, counting to three on his fingers.

  Looks like she’d rather wait a while before deciding, Bäckström thought, seeing as Rosita Andersson-Trygg had merely turned on her heel and left the room, slamming the door behind her. She may even have run straight into visitor number two, judging by the lack of delay before the next knock.

  ‘Come in!’ Bäckström roared. It never ends, he thought.

  93

  As soon as the Monday morning meeting of the investigative team was over, Annika Carlsson had met Commissioner Toivonen, head of crime in the Western District, and Bäckström’s immediate superior.

  ‘Please, have a seat, Annika,’ Toivonen said. ‘So, tell me, what’s the fat little sod been up to this time?’

  Apart from the fact that he was the same as ever, he hadn’t been up to anything, according to Annika Carlsson. In fact, it could even be said that, in some mysterious way that neither she nor any of the others could quite understand, he was actually the person driving the investigation forward.

  ‘So you really came to see me to suggest that he should be awarded the Grand Police Medal in gold,’ Toivonen grunted. ‘Unfortunately, I
can still remember all too well the last time that proposal was on the table. I seem to recall that, on that occasion, the Chief of Police ended up giving him a crystal vase.’

  ‘Which he’s supposed to have either thrown in the bin or sold online. The story varies on that point,’ Annika Carlsson said, shaking her head.

  ‘Out with it then, woman,’ Toivonen said. ‘There’s clearly something serious bothering you, and I want to know what it is.’

  ‘Okay,’ Annika said. ‘I’ll start with the thing that’s bothering me most.’

  She proceeded to tell him about their missing witness. How someone had apparently tried to find out who he was, and had, in all likelihood, succeeded. Then she told him that their two main suspects, Fredrik Åkare and his friend Angel García Gomez, had evidently gone underground at the same time that their witness had disappeared. In short, this was what was worrying her most.

  ‘So what does Bäckström think about that?’ Toivonen asked. ‘That our witness told one of the papers about García Gomez. And that the paper gave him money for the information, which he’s used to get out of the country until everything’s calmed down. That Åkare and García Gomez have got their hands on a collection of old paintings worth several million, stolen from Eriksson. And that they’ve decided to lie low for a while as well.’

  ‘That sounds like Bäckström,’ Toivonen snorted. ‘I remember the last time he was on the rampage. There were clouds of gunsmoke right across Solna. So what is it that’s making me believe that all hell is about to break loose again?’

  ‘What do we do?’ Annika Carlsson said.

  ‘We do the usual. I’ll call in more people so we find those involved before they find each other. And, while I’m doing that, I’ll be praying to Him upstairs that they haven’t already done so. As far as the formalities are concerned, I understand that our prosecutor’s on top of things.’

  ‘Yes, she was even thinking of issuing arrest warrants for Åkare and García Gomez. That’s under way now.’

  ‘Okay,’ Toivonen said with a crooked smile. ‘Little Lisa isn’t as harmless as her name suggests. Anything else I ought to know?’

  ‘Yes, I’m afraid so,’ Annika Carlsson said. ‘One more thing.’

  She went on to tell him about Baron von Comer. The suspicions against him, the fact that he was going to be picked up the following morning, and his house searched. She even gave Toivonen a brief description of his character and background.

  ‘I hear what you’re saying.’ Toivonen sighed. ‘The problem with Bäckström is that, when it comes down to it, there’s only a fifty-fifty chance at best that it’s actually true. That man has absolutely no idea where to draw the line. I still remember him trying to push that so-called sex angle in the Palme murder investigation. Claiming that Palme was the member of some secret sect of sex addicts who ended up falling out with each other and that’s why he got shot. That was when Bäckström ended up being sectioned. Sadly, they let the bastard out again. All I’m interested in is what you think about that story. About the baron, I mean.’

  ‘I’m sorry, but I agree with Bäckström,’ Annika Carlsson said. ‘For the time being, as far as most of it goes, anyway, and the rest usually falls into place once we’ve stirred things up a bit.’

  ‘God help the king,’ Commissioner Toivonen said. He shook his head in resignation and let out a deep sigh.

  94

  ‘Have a seat, Jenny,’ Bäckström said, gesturing towards his visitor’s chair.

  A blue top, just as tight as the others and, in spite of the colour, not remotely like a standard-issue uniform, he noted. As she was clearly just as excited this time as she had been during her last visit, he took out his little black notebook and put it down on the desk in front of him.

  ‘I’m listening,’ Bäckström said, tapping his pen on the notebook to underline his words.

  ‘Was I right, or was I right? About von Comer, I mean,’ Jenny said, leaning over the desk and, as usual, adjusting her neckline half a centimetre upward.

  ‘You were right,’ Bäckström said, leaning back to get a better view of what he was looking at.

  Jenny had just been in touch with the National Forensics Lab, and it turned out that they hadn’t discarded the sample of DNA they had found on the auction catalogue, even though the case had been dropped. After some persuasion, she had also managed to get them to examine it as a matter of urgency, which should mean that the Solna Police would soon have something they could compare any new sample against.

  ‘As soon as we’ve taken a sample from von Comer,’ Jenny clarified. ‘I explained to them that he was about to be brought in, and that it was urgent.’

  She sounds like a proper little legal eagle, Bäckström thought, with a nod of encouragement.

  ‘And I’ve been doing a bit more thinking about this whole business, now I’m completely clear about von Comer’s involvement.’

  ‘What have you been thinking, then?’ Bäckström asked, with another nod. This could be good.

  It was Jenny Rogersson’s decided opinion that von Comer was behind Eriksson’s murder. Just as he was behind everything else as well, for that matter.

  ‘Everything else?’

  ‘That old woman and her rabbit, and her hamster too, come to that, the one they took off her back in the winter. And the threats to that Fridensdal woman. Looks like the perpetrator in that case was the same one who killed Eriksson’s dog. That nasty Chilean bloke, the one with the name like that actor. I’ve already spoken to the Anchor about it, actually—’

  ‘That actor?’ Bäckström said. ‘What actor?’

  ‘That Andy García, the one who was in the third Godfather film.’

  ‘Oh, okay, I’m with you now.’

  ‘Good. So, I’m convinced von Comer is behind it all. He’s behind everything, absolutely everything,’ Jenny concluded, nodding with enthusiasm.

  ‘If what you’re saying is true, then obviously I’m very grateful,’ Bäckström said. ‘That we’ve got our very own Lex Luthor living here in Solna, I mean. It really doesn’t get any better than that for the police. The fact that the same bloke is behind absolutely everything.’

  ‘Lex Luthor?’

  ‘Yes, you know, the bad guy in Superman.’

  ‘I’m serious,’ Jenny said, adjusting her cleavage and shifting position.

  ‘But what do you think about a motive? What’s von Comer’s motive for doing all this?’

  ‘I think he’s got several motives,’ Jenny said. ‘Partly money, the financial reward he gets from those paintings. Then there’s probably an element of revenge as well. I mean, he did get beaten up.’

  ‘Okay, but what about that old bag and all her pets? Or that lunatic Fridensdal? That doesn’t sound especially profitable, if you ask me.’

  ‘I think there’s a sexual motive behind that.’

  ‘A what?’

  ‘I think he might have had a sexual motive in their cases. Something subconscious.’

  ‘Money, sex, revenge,’ Bäckström said. All with the same perpetrator, and all at the same time. No, it doesn’t get better than that, he thought. It’s odd that there isn’t an echo when she talks.

  ‘And I’ve got a proposal,’ Jenny went on.

  ‘A proposal. I’d be very happy to hear it.’ Bäckström had been thinking along much the same lines for quite a while.

  ‘I was going to suggest that I conduct the interview with von Comer when we bring him in tomorrow. I’m pretty sure I’m starting to get a grip on him. That I’ve worked out who he really is.’

  ‘No,’ Bäckström said, shaking his head. ‘I’m thinking of doing that one myself. But if you promise to sit quietly and do nothing but listen, you can sit in the observation room.’

  ‘You don’t need any help, then? With me sitting in, I mean. With all due respect, I think I’m the one who knows most about him, and I—’

  ‘No. But thanks for the offer.’

  95

  Two hours
before Bäckström met his investigative team, Lisa Mattei had had a meeting with the colleague who three days before had been tasked by her with doing ‘all the usual stuff’. The superintendent from the Security Police’s intelligence division, who was head of the section responsible for protection of the constitution, and, in this specific instance, of the head of state, His Majesty King Carl XVI Gustaf.

  The report he had given her was divided into four different points, and the common thread between them was Baron Hans Ulrik von Comer. The first point concerned von Comer’s apparent connection with Fredrik Åkerström and Angel García Gomez. There was no evidence of any previous contact between them. No intelligence information within either the Security Police or the regular force. Nothing had arisen from a check of von Comer’s phone records, his fax and the three computers in his home and office. The only evidence of any contact was the photographs taken by Sandra Kovac the previous week.

  The superintendent had given them to one of the intelligence division’s experts for analysis. She was a psychologist and behavioural expert, and he wanted to know if the body language of the three men in the pictures could be used to deduce any more information about their relationship.

  ‘What did she have to say, then?’ Mattei asked. She was very fond of this sort of question.

  ‘Most of what she said was taken up with the usual reservations and hedging,’ the superintendent said with a wry smile. ‘But if she had to hazard an interpretation, she would say that this was a first meeting, and that the three people in question didn’t know each other before. So this would have been a first meeting, under relaxed circumstances, and it was probably about business or some other practical matter rather than anything personal or private. Definitely not something of purely emotional significance.’

  ‘Yet they still showed up at his house, and when I look at those pictures I get the distinct impression that they’re about to leave. That they’re on their way out. That they’ve been inside his house. And that bothers me. It bothers me a great deal that someone like von Comer is standing on his doorstep shaking hands with those two.’