Authors: Helene Tursten
“Did you?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“I didn’t have time before … it … happened.”
“But Linda seemed to be very clear that you promised to marry her.”
“She did? Well, we probably would have … eventually.”
“Let’s go back to the night of the murder. Tell us what happened while you were waiting for Linda.”
“I was up in the apartment at eleven-thirty. I got undressed and got into bed. I tried to read for a while. Midnight came, and then it was a few minutes past.”
“Were you worried?”
“Not really. I thought she might have been held up and was running late. The minutes kept ticking away, and she didn’t come.” He looked at his shaking hands and took a deep breath. “At exactly twelve-fifteen, the power went out. I had just looked at the clock. At first I was irritated, but then I heard the respirator alarm go off. I leaped out of bed, threw on some clothes, and you know the rest. During everything that happened, I kept wondering where Linda was. It was as if I had a premonition.”
“Nurse Siv said that you took her flashlight and went to the operating rooms through the ICU’s back door. You saw no trace of Linda or Marianne?”
“No. Of course I was looking for both of them. I didn’t see anything. But I did feel as if I were being watched. Down in the entrance foyer … while I was waiting for the police. I know it sounds crazy, but I had the strong feeling of being observed. And I’m not superstitious.”
“You don’t believe it was the hospital ghost?”
“No. Every decent hospital that’s been around for a while has a ghost, and ours is called Tekla. If that old nurse hadn’t hanged herself in the attic, there would have been another ghost story about someone else.”
“So if it wasn’t a ghost watching, it must have been a human being.”
“Yes.”
“But you have no idea who it might have been?”
For a moment Irene felt that Sverker was hesitating; the expression in his eyes was difficult to interpret. He looked down before he answered, “No.”
“Then … let’s move on to something else that happened here. What were you doing last night at twelve?”
“Last night? I slept. I actually slept for the first time since … it happened. Six hours in a row. I think I fell asleep at eleven-thirty. Probably had something to do with the wine.”
“Wine?”
“Carina had opened a bottle the night before last, and there was half a bottle left. She was making beef stew for dinner and put the bottle on the table. Red wine went with the food, so I had two glasses. It was just enough to knock me out.”
“Were Carina and Emma at home?”
“Emma was already asleep when I went to bed. Carina finishes work late on Tuesdays. She teaches aerobics all evening and usually isn’t home until eleven-thirty at the earliest.”
“Did you hear her when she came home?”
“Yes, she arrived around the usual time, and I heard her come in before I drifted off. Why are you asking?”
“But you didn’t see or speak with each other after that?”
“No, I was asleep by the time she came upstairs.”
Tommy told the doctor about the arson at Anna-Karin Arvidsson’s apartment. He also said that Anna-Karin would not be returning to work until the threat to her life was eliminated. In other words, when the killer was caught.
As Tommy was telling the story, Irene saw how Sverker had quietly withdrawn into his head. He had fastened his gaze back onto their bookshelf, and it was doubtful that he’d heard what Tommy was saying.
“
HE SUSPECTS SOMETHING—OR
knows something,” Irene said.
“Why do you think so?” Tommy asked.
“When you were telling him about the arson at Anna-Karin’s, I had the feeling he only half heard your words. He was thinking about something else.”
“Yes, but he’s at the end of his rope. Maybe he couldn’t listen to any more bad news.”
“Maybe not.” Irene wasn’t convinced, but there wasn’t any evidence to back up her feeling. For now it would just have to wait. She changed the subject. “So this story comes back to fire again.”
“Fire? Are you thinking about the garden shed and Mama Bird?”
“Yes, and also the fire ten years ago when the doctor’s mansion burned down. So there are three fires. Let’s think about the fire at the mansion. Who was involved in that story?”
“Barbro, Carina, and Sverker.”
“And which of these three would have reason to set the other two?”
Tommy thought about it. “In principle, all three.”
“That’s right. Barbro lives alone and can come and go as she pleases now that her children are living in the United States.”
“But what would be her motive?”
“Revenge. Hate.”
“Maybe. As for Sverker and Carina, it would be much harder. They live together and know where each other should be.”
“Do they? I think they live fairly separate lives. As far as the garden shed goes, either one of them could have set that fire. They didn’t meet up until it was time to go to that party. Before then anyone could have arranged the candle and the rags. Neither of them has an alibi. Their daughter, Emma, was away on winter break. They didn’t have to worry about her. Sverker says he was at the hospital looking through construction bids. Notice that he was at the scene. Two hours after he leaves the building, the fire breaks out. Carina said she was exercising in her private gym and then went jogging. She came home a few minutes after Sverker. It’s strange, too, that they were able to pull themselves together for a party after everything that had been going on at the hospital.”
“Neither Linda nor Gunnela had been found yet when the garden shed burned.”
“Right. But Linda had gone missing.”
“Sverker had to keep a calm façade and not let Carina know how worried he was.”
“Exactly. And Carina hasn’t seemed all that affected by any of this. She is one cool lady.”
“Yes, goal-oriented. She’s decided to turn the hospital into a fitness center, and so it will be.”
Silence spread through the room until Irene finally asked, “So which of the three do you think is behind it?”
“Not Barbro. She has nothing to gain by killing Linda, Marianne, or Gunnela. If she were guilty, she would have aimed at hurting Carina directly. Or killed her.”
“My thoughts exactly. Barbro as a suspect is too far-fetched. It’s been too long since they divorced.”
“Either Sverker or Carina, then.”
“Yes, but I can’t see a motive for either of them.”
“What are we missing? Which questions haven’t been answered?”
Irene thought. “Why did Marianne have Linda’s day planner in her pocket? And where is Marianne’s flashlight?”
“Yep. We know that the killer needed the flashlight to light the way up the stairs to the attic. Also for hanging Linda up. Probably the killer used it to walk through the operating rooms, since there are no windows there. Going down the stairs would be easier. The street lamps and the moon would have lit the way. According to Siv Persson, it was almost as light as day.”
“So where did the murderer put the flashlight?”
“Where do people put flashlights?”
Tommy stared at Irene. “Where? Well, I have one in the garage. And one in the closet, though that one’s broken. And one in the car.”
Irene nodded. The gears in her head began to turn. “I also have one in the car. As well as a towrope and a jack. But I don’t keep a toolbox in my car. Do you?”
“Not in my car, no. I keep mine in the garage. I have a set of wrenches instead and a jack. I don’t have a towrope.”
“So you don’t have a toolbox with a hammer and a screwdriver and the like either?”
“No. What’s this toolbox idea?”
“Carina Löwander said they keep a toolbox in their car. She said she’d taken the screwdriver from the toolbox in order to break open the suitcases in the attic. I would like to take a good look at that toolbox.”
“Why?”
“Because if there isn’t one, Carina got a screwdriver from somewhere else, and I’m going to put my money on the security guard’s room. And as you well know, someone also took a large pair of wire cutters and a few yards of flag rope.”
BY PHONE IRENE
was able to reach Sverker Löwander at home around six that evening.
“Why do you need to look at our garage and our cars?” Sverker asked her suspiciously.
Irene always had difficulty skirting around the truth, so she explained calmly, “We’re looking for an instrument that matches some break marks we found. Perhaps a dull knife or a screwdriver. We have not found anything that fits at the hospital or in the security guard’s room. So now we are going to go through all the homes of everyone involved. Even those of the victims.” Irene added the last sentence to make it appear more like a routine search.
“Where did you find these break marks?”
“I can’t tell you. It’s part of the investigation.”
This usually stopped further questions, and it worked on Sverker Löwander.
“I’m driving Emma to her riding lesson. We’re already late. I’m staying there until she’s done at eight-thirty. We’re seldom home before nine.”
“Is Carina at home?”
“No, she won’t be home until eleven-thirty.”
This family certainly kept late hours, and the cars wouldn’t be in the garage. Irene thought quickly. “Could you just leave your car in the garage tomorrow morning?”
Silence on the other end of the line. Finally, “Sure. Anything to get this over with. But we don’t keep a lot of tools in our cars, so I imagine your search won’t take long. There are not many tools in the garage either. I’m not fond of home improvement or woodworking or that kind of thing.”
“It’s good we can do this as efficiently as possible. It’s just routine. Everyone must be checked systematically, and we can’t leave anything to chance, as you probably know,” Irene chirped. She was surprised that he swallowed her weak story but relieved he didn’t question their right to search his cars and his garage. It would have been much more difficult if he’d asked for a search warrant and demanded to know what his legal rights were. Irene knew that her suspicions weren’t enough to authorize a search warrant, and in any event it just would take too long.
Chapter 21
C
OLD RAIN POURED
from the black skies and trickled down Irene’s neck as she crossed the short stretch from her police car to the Löwanders’ front porch. She felt it run in little streams from her hair onto her neck as she rang the doorbell and heard it echo within the house. After the third ring, she heard footsteps on the other side. The brickred door was opened slightly, and through the gap, Irene heard an angry, snakelike hiss: “Who’s there?”
“Inspector Irene Huss. I spoke to your husband and—”
The door opened wide. Irene saw the white robe covering a disheveled figure in the dark hallway.
“Well, hello. Come on in. What time is it?”
The voice was now warm and inviting, not at all snakelike, as Carina Löwander let Irene inside.
“It’s almost eight.”
“Good grief! I’ve overslept! Excuse me for a minute. I have to check and make sure that Emma has gotten off to school.”
“This won’t take long. I talked to Sverker yesterday. Didn’t he mention it?”
Carina stopped in the middle of her run up the stairs to the second floor. “No, he was already sleeping when I came home last night, and I was asleep when he left. We haven’t talked since yesterday morning.”
Irene wasn’t surprised. She said easily, “It’s about a routine check, you see. Every vehicle that was near Löwander Hospital needs to be checked both inside and out.”
“Inside and out? Why?”
“So they can be eliminated from the investigation. There are marks from a tool we’re trying to track down. I can’t say anything else about it. For investigative reasons.”
Carina appeared doubtful. On the other hand, to Irene’s great relief, she didn’t demand to see a search warrant either.
“I see. Well.…”
Irene said quickly, “You don’t have to accompany me. If you could just give me the garage and car keys for a moment, I’ll take care of it myself.”
Still obviously doubtful, Carina walked over to a tall, narrow dresser near the hat rack. The white-lacquered front seemed covered with tiny drawers. Carina pulled open one of the top ones and took out two key rings. She cast a brief, suspicious glance into the narrow pewter-framed mirror over the dresser. Their eyes met in the mirror. Irene had been prepared for this and gave the appearance of calm friendliness. Carina pressed her lips together and turned back to Irene as she said, “Here. The garage key is on both these key chains. You can tell which one belongs to the BMW and which one belongs to the Mazda.”
“Thanks. This will just take a few minutes. I’ll be right back with the keys.”
Irene went out into the downpour again. As she passed the police car, she motioned to Tommy to stay there. It would be just as well that someone kept an eye on the house and its mistress.
Irene lifted the heavy garage door and pulled it shut behind her. After a few seconds of searching, she found the light switch. The two-car garage was lit by a single weak bulb attached to the ceiling. The blue Mazda and the silver BMW stood next to each other. Irene decided to look through the BMW first.
The car’s inside was meticulously clean. It was almost new, certainly not more than a few months old. The glove compartment held a pair of sunglasses and a package of gum. The trunk was just as empty. A spare tire, a jack, and a first-aid kit from the Red Cross were the only items in it.
The Mazda seemed more promising. It was a few years old and was not nearly as clean. There was an empty pop can and piles of candy wrappers on the floor by the backseats. The glove compartment was filled, but nothing in it interested Irene.
The trunk contained the usual mess of stuff found in old cars. There really was a bag of tools, but it had no screwdriver. It did have various wrenches, an oilcan, a small jack, and a lug wrench in the shape of a cross. She lifted the bag of tools out of the way so that she could look behind it.
The weak light suddenly flashed on a reflection—something made of steel—deep inside the truck. Irene reached forward to fish it out. When her hand, enclosed in its glove, cautiously wrapped itself around the cold metal, her heart skipped a beat.
She lifted her discovery in pinched fingers and stretched to hold it closer to the dim light to see it better.
A very familiar scent slammed open a subconscious alarm, and she reacted with lightning speed. Instantly, she threw the object back into the trunk, grasped the molded edge of the car, and leaped up to kick back as hard as she could with both feet. A thud told her she’d hit the person coming up behind her. A loud “Ooofff” and another thud against the garage door confirmed that her kick had been hard and well placed. Unfortunately, the attacker had also managed a hard hit. But instead of landing on Irene’s head, where the blow had been aimed, it hit her high on her calf. She felt how the blow connected and heard a dry crack on her right leg. A second later her lower leg went numb and no longer supported her weight. Irene swung around, using her left leg, and saw Carina pulling herself up, using the garage door as support, her left hand pressed against her chest. Not for nothing did Irene think of a ninja warrior as she saw Carina dressed in black leggings and a tight-fitting black T-shirt, her well-trained muscles rippling under the thin fabric of the shirt.
Where was Tommy? Why hadn’t he followed Carina inside? He should have seen her sneak into the garage! From the corner of her eye, Irene noticed a half-open door next to the garage. She realized that someone could go straight from the house into the garage. Tommy had no idea that Carina was in here and had just whacked Irene’s lower leg with a large, heavy crescent wrench.
Carina had managed to stand and was searching for the wrench again. She groaned in pain as she moved, which Irene was happy to hear. Perhaps Carina’s breastbone and a few ribs were broken. They were close to even strength, then, although Carina had found a weapon while Irene’s hands were empty. Still, Irene was a highest-level jujitsu practitioner. On the other hand, Carina was unusually strong and buff—not to mention murderously insane.
As fast as she could, Irene shuffled deeper into the garage to get the car between herself and Carina. It was difficult maneuvering. Her numb leg hindered her. She exaggerated the difficulties in her movements to make her opponent overconfident. Triumph lit Carina’s crazy eyes. She was grinning as she started toward Irene, who was now on the other side of the Mazda’s hood. Carina stopped on her side of the car and fixed Irene in her gaze. For a long time, they stood silently facing each other. Finally Irene spoke.
“Carina, don’t make your situation worse than it already is. My colleagues know that I am here in your house. You’re already a suspect and won’t be able to get away with this. There’s no reason to attack me—”
Carina made a sound somewhere between a howl and a hiss. Then she leaped onto the hood of the car, brandishing the wrench, and swung her arm to give Irene a backhanded blow to the head.
This fit Irene’s strategy. She took two steps back to find support against the wall. Now Carina would have to jump off the hood and cover that distance to reach her. She did so, pouncing like a cat, the wrench still in a backhand swing. She was totally unprepared when Irene stepped forward and blocked her blow with her lower arms. Before Carina had the chance to react, Irene turned to the right, keeping her grip on Carina’s arm, and took her down in a shiho-nage. The adrenaline rush made her use more force in her control grip than she needed. Carina screamed and dropped the wrench without resistance. Irene snatched it up.
Luckily, her muscles remembered her old handball moves. She targeted the window next to the garage door, which was two meters above the cement floor and just beneath the ceiling. The pane broke with a loud crashing sound, and the wrench, with a metallic bang, fell to the ground outside. The sound of the glass breaking seemed to bring Carina back to life. She began to wriggle beneath Irene, her strong, sinuous body tensed. Carina was the stronger, but Irene was a master of fighting techniques. Sweat poured down Irene’s back as she parried each of Carina’s attempts to free herself. The woman seemed to feel no pain. Irene’s only chance was to grip Carina’s hand even harder. Finally Carina’s wrist broke, and she began to howl uncontrollably. Beneath the sound of her yowling, Irene heard Tommy pounding on the locked garage door and yelling something she couldn’t understand. Then she heard running steps. A second later she heard the sound of a car screeching to a stop and Tommy’s head and shoulders popped up on the other side of the broken window. She realized he’d parked the squad car under the window and had climbed onto its hood. He used the wrench to knock away the rest of the glass in the window frame. He was able to reach his hand in and unlock the window, which was wide enough for him to wiggle through and then slide down feet first. Irene felt her leg pound and throb. Her strength was ebbing, and she was relieved to have backup.
Tommy took out the handcuffs, and between the two of them they were able to cuff Carina, who yelled and writhed and somehow even managed to roll onto her back with her handcuffed wrists beneath her. Her broken wrist should have been unbelievably painful, but she kicked with undiminished power. Tommy managed to catch her legs and sit on them.
“As far as you’re concerned, it’s all over,” he told her in a hard voice. “It’s all over.”
The result was immediate. Carina stopped still and stared at Tommy. If looks could kill, Tommy would have been her fourth victim. Fifth, if you included Nils Peterzén.