Vanished?

by Christer Tholin

  Unfortunately, there was nothing to see, even with binoculars. There was no one at the window or in the garden. According to the people search-engine records—there were several good sites, and Lars had already checked three—the only adults living there were Liv Ulldahl and Thomas Lind. Could Liv have colored her hair or even been wearing a wig? Lars didn’t think so.

  Something about this case was odd. The German guy was right about that, at least, even if Lars didn’t fully buy his motive. He was definitely smitten with this woman Liv. Something may even have happened between them. After all, our friend Martin had turned pretty damn red when Lars mentioned it. Oh well, that shouldn’t make any difference to him—the lady appeared to have vanished in any case. Or not. They would see.

  Lars had Elin, his colleague at the office, do an Internet search on the Ulldahl-Lind family while he took care of the observing. So there he sat, waiting to see if anything would transpire. This part of the job was never fun for him: patience was not his strong suit. But, as always, every job had its downside. With the police, it had been the lousy administrative work, all the stuff you had to fill out and report on. He didn’t miss that at all. But the field operations were great. And he also missed his colleagues—here he was mostly on his own. The upside was that his salary was somewhat better, which came in handy, especially now that Lisa had just gone on maternity leave. Besides, Lisa was much calmer since he had switched to detective work. Before, she was often afraid for him. And anyway, with his injured leg, he had a hard time keeping up whenever the need for physical action arose.

  But now Lars had waited long enough. The time had come to act. He got out of the car and walked up the driveway and the five steps leading to the front door. The door had both a bell and a large knocker. He decided to try the bell. The ding-dong sound was loud and clear, though it was only after the second try that Lars heard the approach of footsteps. The door opened slowly, and the black-haired woman came out. She appeared to be Asian and was no older than twenty. This was definitely not Liv. Her dark eyes studied him with a searching and uncertain look.

  “Hello. I’m looking for Liv Ulldahl,” Lars began.

  “Not here,” she replied softly. She had an accent.

  “When could I see her? Will she be back later?”

  “No.” She was about to close the door.

  “Wait! It’s important. Liv Ulldahl ordered something from me, and I was supposed to deliver it today.” This trick usually worked, and this time was no exception. The door opened again.

  “You can give to me.” The woman held out her hand.

  “No, I’m sorry, that won’t do. I have to give it to her personally.”

  She apparently didn’t like that. Her look betrayed disappointment. “Why?”

  “Liv insisted. It’s something valuable. When will she be back?”

  “Do not know. You can call?”

  “Yes, I have her cell phone number and have tried it a number of times, but her cell phone appears to be turned off. Do you have another number for her?”

  “Maybe. One moment!”

  She shut the door. All Lars could do was hope that she would return. He was in luck. She opened the door and gave him a slip of paper. Before he could even say thank you, the door shut once more. She was evidently glad to be rid of him. On the slip of paper was a number, written in large, round figures. That was something, anyway.

  Lars went back to the car and reflected on the woman he had just seen. She had to be an au pair. The Ulldahl-Lind family appeared to have plenty of dough, and an au pair would represent the least of that. Still, she came across as being very uneasy. He knew that his size could often have an intimidating effect, but he could usually make up for that by being friendly. It didn’t work in this case.

  Back in the car, Lars immediately entered the number. It wasn’t a cell phone number—that much was clear. The area code was for the south of Sweden. Lars let it ring a long time. No answer and no voicemail.

  Lars called Elin and asked her to find the address to the number. She called back less than two minutes later—Elin was effective. It was the number for the vacation house. No wonder no one picked up. He then asked Elin what she had found out from the Ulldahl search, to which she replied that it would be worth his while to stop by the office. She didn’t want to say anything more—she was keeping him in suspense. Lars started the car.

  14

  They were sitting in the hotel restaurant again, this time for coffee. Following a tip from Lars, Martin had taken a three-hour boat tour through the Stockholm Archipelago. He didn’t regret it. There were thousands of islands, abundant forest and cliffs, and a host of pretty houses that nearly always blended with the landscape. It would have been even more pleasant with company, but Martin enjoyed it all the same, especially since it was a sunny day. Lars had called at around noon, and he and Martin had agreed to meet here at the restaurant.

  Lars wasted little time on formalities. Instead, he immediately started spreading out a long series of web page printouts.

  “This is an interesting family, Martin. Liv Ulldahl is married to Thomas Lind. I don’t know what it’s like in Germany, but in Sweden both spouses can keep their own last names. They both come from wealthy families. They own several companies, the major ones being a construction company and a property management firm. Their combined fortune is estimated at several hundred million Swedish kroner. That’s many millions of euros.”

  Martin hadn’t anticipated this. The villa was impressive all right, but neither Liv nor the summerhouse had smelled of big bucks.

  “The construction company is the largest,” Lars went on. “They build grandiose houses throughout Scandinavia and also in Germany. This company is from Liv Ulldahl’s family. She inherited it from her parents, who both died in a car crash five years ago. Liv was their only child. Both parents were in their early fifties.” Lars indicated the relevant articles as he spoke. Most were written in Swedish, but a few were in English.

  “That,” Lars added, “makes the Ulldahls, and especially Liv, clear targets for kidnapping and ransom demands.”

  Martin nodded. “That’s true, if they have that much money. But then shouldn’t they have appropriate protection? I noticed nothing along those lines at either the summerhouse or the villa.”

  Lars agreed. “Yes, in another country, the Ulldahls would definitely have had that. In Sweden, the people are still somewhat naive about the dangers facing the rich and famous. You’d be amazed at the type of people you can run into in Stockholm—right in the middle of town, without any type of protection: government ministers, actors, wealthy business owners. The only ones under constant guard are the members of the royal family, although as far as I know, there’s never been an assassination attempt on any of them.”

  “All right,” said Martin, “but I would think that the summerhouse belonging to such a wealthy family would be different from Liv’s.”

  “Right. They have that, too.”

  Lars laid some more printouts in front of Martin.

  “The Ulldahls have a total of five houses in their possession, or I should say five that we know of. First, there’s the villa in Danderyd here in Stockholm. You’ve already been there. Then there’s a gigantic property in the Archipelago, complete with a villa and adjacent buildings, all of it right on the water. Take a look!”

  Lars showed Martin a photo of a large estate with a jetty, an enormous motorboat, and its own private swimming area.

  “And then they own another house in the mountains near Åre, a popular Swedish ski resort.” There was also a picture of that, a modern house in the countryside, surrounded by mountain peaks.

  “Number four is a finca on Mallorca.” The photo showed a picturesque blue sky over a Spanish country estate that was nestled among the hills.

  “And finally, there’s the summerhouse in Småland—where you first met Liv.” Lars had brought a picture of that, too, and Martin recognized Liv’s house.

  “Wow,
I wasn’t expecting this.” Martin still couldn’t fathom it. Had Liv been staying at one of the other residences, he would probably never have met her. But why was she staying in the small vacation house?

  “How does the little summerhouse fit in with the others? And why was Liv there, of all places?” asked Martin.

  “Good question. We don’t know yet. But vacation houses of that sort are a tradition in Sweden and are usually passed down within the family. They’re often filled with memories, which is why the families never sell them.”

  “Like your family’s summerhouse in Norrland?” Martin remembered their conversation from the previous evening.

  “Exactly. I’d never sell that, either.” Lars was firm on that point.

  Martin was thinking things over. Then he said, “So there’s still the question as to why Liv was at the summerhouse in the middle of September, when school had already started—and all alone, no less.”

  Lars knit his brow. “Yeah, that is a bit strange. And it gets even stranger when you see what’s going on with the Ulldahls at the moment.”

  Now what? Martin held his breath.

  Lars pulled out two more printouts from his case. “It looks as though they’re about to sell the construction company. We found two articles on that in the financial papers. One of them even maintains that they’ve already signed their names to the deal. If that’s true, then Thomas and Liv are selling the company to a Russian firm. I find that pretty unusual.”

  Martin took a look at the articles, but they were in Swedish. “Sorry, I’m afraid I don’t understand any of it. Could you translate some of it for me?”

  Lars summarized the articles for Martin. Liv was the company’s principal owner and the chairman of the board. Her husband also sat on the board of directors and owned thirty percent of the stock. The article gave no reason for the sale, although one of the journalists speculated that Thomas and Liv had not been comfortable with the way the business was being run. Liv’s parents had apparently taken a very hands-on approach, and it was only after their deaths that Liv and her husband got involved. They may have discovered that the business didn’t particularly suit them, although the company had no major problems. According to the second article, the sales and performance figures were steady and even slightly on the rise.

  Martin took some time to let it all sink in. “All right,” he finally said, “then let me summarize what I’ve understood so far. Liv comes from a wealthy family. After the death of her parents, she takes on the management of the business but then decides to sell it after a while. At that exact point in time, she drives—all by herself—to their remote summerhouse, where she vanishes without a trace. So what do we get from that?”

  “Let me briefly tell you a few other things.”

  Lars gave an account of his observations that morning and of his encounter with the young Asian woman.

  “When we put it all together,” he concluded, “we come up with two explanations: an innocent version and a serious one. The innocent one is that Liv disappeared of her own choice to escape the journalists, who would be plying her for information on the company sale. The alternate explanation is our hypothesis from yesterday: abduction for the express purpose of extracting ransom. What we didn’t know yesterday was that you could extract quite a bit from the Ulldahls. That version would also explain why the family has said nothing about Liv’s whereabouts. Either the police are involved or the family is trying to solve the issue themselves by paying the ransom. In either case, neither the family nor the police would want to admit anything to an outsider.”

  Martin took a sip of coffee. “I’m totally with you on the second version. The first still leaves us with the question as to why someone knocked me unconscious.”

  “Maybe Liv had to leave suddenly because the journalists had caught wind of where she was. Could be a bodyguard picked up her things and thought you were a paparazzo or an intruder.”

  “And then tied me up in the garden shed?”

  “I admit that doesn’t fit. But we shouldn’t commit to the kidnapping version just yet. There may still be an innocent explanation.”

  “Agreed. I don’t want to get stuck on it, either. I don’t need to worry if it’s the innocent version. I just want to keep investigating in case there’s a problem. So let’s assume there’s been a kidnapping. What can we do? Or would we be better off staying out of it? I mean, do you think we could be jeopardizing a potential negotiation and delivery?”

  “That depends on what we do. But you’re right. We need to be careful.”

  “Well, I have no intention of getting involved in a kidnapping affair, but I’d still like to know what’s going on here. Is there any way we can find out without creating too much of a disturbance?”

  Lars said that he could easily understand Martin’s concern.

  “Absolutely. We haven’t made direct contact so far except for my conversation with the au pair, and that won’t attract attention. I think we should keep things as they are: just stay passive and observe. Besides, we can certainly find out more through the Internet. My colleague Elin is already on it.”

  “OK, I’ve paid for two days, anyway, which means that we’ll continue tomorrow in any case. And if you come up with as much tomorrow as you did today, then it will be worth it. But what specifically should we do now?”

  “First, let me talk to Elin. Something new may have come up in the meantime. Then I’ll plan the next few steps. I can call you tomorrow morning to discuss things. Would that work?”

  “Yes, great! Maybe I could also take on an assignment.”

  “I’m sure we can come up with something for you. OK then, it’s a plan.”

  Lars rose to his full height and stretched his bad leg. The two men took their leave, and Lars exited the restaurant. Martin watched him as he headed toward the door, his movements a bit awkward because of his stiff leg.

  “Good man,” Martin thought. “He came up with a ton of information. And in such a short time.”

  15

  Lars had just relieved his colleague Marie, who wasn’t at all happy that he had arrived so late. She needed to bring her children to a sports event, and Lars was supposed to have taken her place an hour earlier. But what could he do? His boss had told him that the conversation with Martin took priority. And had it been up to him, he wouldn’t be there at all. This particular surveillance was utterly dull. They had been at it for an entire week already, with no results. It had to do with a company that suspected one of their associates of selling some company secrets to a competitor. So far, though, they had no evidence of any contact. The associate in question was still at the office, and Lars was supposed to observe what he did after work. Oh well, at least, it gave him a chance to give Elin a call.

  Elin picked up right away. “Elin.”

  “Hey, Elin, it’s Lars. I was wondering if you had learned anything new.”

  “Does the Pope wear a funny cap? What do you think I do here? Polish my nails all day?”

  Man, she could be cocky. Sometimes she got a little stressed.

  “No, Elin, I don’t. I just know that you’re also working on other cases.”

  “Well, fine. Just a sec!” That seemed to pacify her. Lars had obviously come up with the right response, although he knew that in reality she probably had no other cases at the moment.

  There was a rustling sound, and then Elin was back on the line.

  “So first of all, there’s the issue with all those houses. Liv and Thomas bought some of them on their own, like the villa in Danderyd and the cabin in the mountains. But the finca in Mallorca and the estate in the Archipelago were inherited by Liv from her parents.”

  “OK, and the summerhouse in Småland?”

  “Liv inherited that from her grandmother—eleven years ago, in fact.”

  “Right, that fits. Does that mean that the grandmother wasn’t that rich?”

  “No, she wasn’t. Both the fortune and the construction company were from the
father’s side of Liv’s family. The grandmother in question was on her mother’s side. She was a kindergarten teacher, and her husband was also a teacher. They both lived in Jönköping, so not too far from the summerhouse.”

  “So the summerhouse belongs exclusively to Liv?”

  “Yes, the same as the properties on Mallorca and in the Archipelago. On the other hand, Liv and her husband Thomas each own half of the houses in Danderyd and Åre. On top of that, her husband has a summerhouse in Dalarna that he co-owns with his sister and brother. I didn’t know that before because at first I only searched for properties belonging to Liv.”

  “Good work, Elin.”

  “Thanks, Lars.” She softened. “There’s more.” Elin giggled.

  “Let’s hear it!”

  “I called the house on Mallorca and spoke with the manager or caretaker. The Ulldahls were last there in the spring. The manager is usually informed whenever they plan on going there, but he wasn’t aware of any such plans.”

  “Great! Did he just come out and tell you that?”

  “Well, no, it wasn’t quite that easy. Maybe you remember that I speak a little Spanish, which definitely helped. So I pretended to be a travel agent and asked if the house was available for rent. Of course, it wasn’t, but that opened the way for a conversation.”

  “Good job!” Lars needed to keep Elin in a good mood, and she needed the compliments. But all that aside, she was genuinely effective.

  “Thanks, I’m good, aren’t I?” She giggled again. “Unfortunately, I had no luck with the places in Åre or the Archipelago. No one answered. The house in Dalarna has no phone service. Don’t know how to get any further there.”

  “I’ll deal with the house in the Archipelago and the one in Dalarna, Elin, if you can find out whether anyone is living in the ski cabin. I’m sure you’ll find a way.”

  “I’ll come up with something.”

  “Can you also email me the address of the house in Dalarna?”