Blue Blue Eyes: Crime Novel (7 page)

Friday June 7th

The rain pelted relentlessly on the window of detective Kerstin Hogstrom’s office at Skanegatan in Gothenburg. As usual she started her day by going through the mail and sighed when she saw how many new meetings she had been invited to. Despite her being short, Kerstin Hogstrom was a respected and colourful woman within the police force. She was straight and honest in communicating and had no problem in letting people know their place. She came from a very wealthy family who after many arguments had accepted her choice of profession as well as her new wife, Ase. She looked good with her shoulder length hair which was a mixture of shades of grey.

”Good morning, are you an early bird?”, Detective Goran Karlsson yawned and leant his tall, slim body against the white office door. He was 197 centimetres without shoes and was the tallest in the department. Last week he had celebrated his 40th birthday but you could imagine him being older with his slightly old-fashioned ways. You couldn’t miss him being from Gothenburg either, there were few with such a strong dialect as him. Every second day he shaved his head, but to compensate he had let a long goatee grow. In other words Goran was perfect as a civilian detective since his look was bohemian and unfashionable. A checked shirt, worn outside his jeans with a round mark in the front where he kept his tobacco, that was Goran Karlsson in a nutshell.

”Good morning, I couldn’t sleep so I thought I might as well come here instead. The piles of papers and mail will not go away by themselves unfortunately”, Hogstrom muttered and took a sip of the poison she had just got from the vending machine.

”Are you drinking that slush? I’ve started bringing my own instant coffee instead. You must have an iron stomach to cope with that shit you’re drinking.” Goran stroked his flat belly and continued:” Unusually calm for the season, don’t you think so?”

Hogstrom nodded. ”Yes, considering all the schools closing in town it’s quiet. But every time we point out that we don’t have a lot to do it changes within a few hours. Let’s hope it will not happen this time.” She scratched her thin, pointed nose and followed Goran out into the kitchen where several colleagues who also were early birds had gathered.

”When is Nikki coming back?” Detective Fredrik Aslund asked, while looking closely at his boss he noticed that Hogstrom was dark under her eyes, probably from too much work and not enough sleep. To be a little over 50 years old she looked good with her shapely slim body. Her eyes were the most beautiful part of her body. Fredrik had never seen eyes with such mixed shades before.

”I expect Nikki to be back here on Monday.” Hogstrom adjusted her leopard coloured skirt and poured the rest of the coffee in the sink. ”Who will contact The Coffebean to get us a new vending machine?”

”Anja has it all under control”, Goran quickly said while filling up his coffee mug with hot water from the water boiler.

”Good, then I’m sure it will be done.” Hogstrom went back to her room and looked out through the window on the seventh floor. People feeling stressed with their morning activities were running here and there with open umbrellas, and a blue tram stopped at Ullevi to pick up passengers. Although Hogstrom knew that the rain was necessary for nature she didn’t like the heavy rain clouds. She was a typical summer person and preferred hot sunny days.

The police house in Gothenburg had been renovated during the past year and the whole department had moved into the modernized building. Nobody had had time to make their offices cosy as they were far too busy. Now that there was less to do, Hogstrom was hoping her colleagues would be putting a more personal touch on their offices. She herself had brought a picture with her wife sitting at the Nyckelpiga in Liseberg with two of their grandchildren.

”Do you have two seconds?” Goran knocked on the door and, without waiting for a reply, took a big step inside the threshold. ”We’ve had to take over this case which came by fax the other day. Somebody from Gothenburg seems to have been found murdered in Cyprus.”

”Cyprus?” Hogstrom said surprised and looked at Goran when he put some tobacco under his thick lip.

”Yeah, Cyprus. I thought I’d have a look at it since it’s still pretty quiet here. The man’s name is Sten Arvidsson and, according to the Cypriot police, he was probably murdered Saturday morning.

”OK, do we know anything else?”

”Oh yes, he was filled up with concrete and had more or less been tortured to death. One finger was missing and a few of them were broken but the worst probably is that both his eyes were missing.”

”What?” Hogstrom raised her eyebrows in surprise and made a face.

Goran nodded and scratched his ear. ”Something is obviously wrong with the perpetrator, at least…” He chose not to finish the sentence when he thought of the pictures.

”Check out that Sten Arvidsson. Take Fredrik with you, and go to the victim’s home. Don’t forget to ask the neighbours too. I will take care of the search warrant and get in touch with the prosecutor.”

”Did somebody say Cyprus?” Anja stopped when passing Hogstsrom’s room, curious. Constable Anja Love’n was 29 years old and the best shot in the department. She was a splash of colour, always dressed in red, with red long hair and red glasses framing her long face.

”Yes, why?” Goran turned around, putting the papers between his arm and waist and pushed both hands into the pockets of his trousers.

”You do know that Nikki is in Cyprus?” Anja knew that she was breaking a promise now and hoped that Nikki would forgive her.

”Cyprus?” Both Hogstrom and Goran said at the same time.”What is she doing there?”

”Holiday of course, what else? Is there something I can do?”

”Your most important task today is to try and get that machine full of poison called a coffee machine changed.” Hogstrom sat down at her desk while the others left the room.

Goran changed his snuff and put back the box in his front pocket of his faded jeans. So that’s why Nikki had asked him to help Charlie while she was abroad, this explained everything. He put Sten Arvidsson’s personal tax-number into the police’s computer system and read through the scarce information.

”There is nothing about Sten Arvidsson in the criminal records. What I can see is that he’s a widower and that his wife died two years ago. No children. Resident in Grundsundsvagen in Torslanda. Owned GravArvid AB but sold the company six years ago. He apparently made a lot of money on the sale. ”

Fredrik who hadn’t shaved for a few days scratched his chin while rolling the chair back to his desk with the help of his feet.

”What was Sten Arvidsson doing in Cyprus? Do you think it was just a pleasure trip?

Fredrik Aslund looked like an Italian with his olive coloured skin and his dark eyes. His thick, long eye-lashes had every woman green with envy. His short hair was black and he was tall and well built as well as strong. Fredrik Aslund was dedicated to his region, Bohuslan, and had been raised on Karringon where his family had made a living from fishing for several generations.

Goran picked up the phone and put in the speed dial to Anja. ”Do you have time to check up when Sten Arvidsson went to Cyprus and if he possibly had some kind of business there?”

”I’ll take care of it”, Anja chirped enthusiastically.” You two get going to the victim’s home and I’ll call when I find anything.”

It was pouring down when Goran and Fredrik left Skanegatan’s police house in the civilian service car. They drove to Torslanda via Odinsplats and the Gotaalv-bridge. At Backaplan they saw the sky opening up and after the Lundby-tunnel the rain had completely stopped. Twenty five minutes later they took a left turn towards Grundsundsvagen just before the dock for the ferry going to Ockero and Bjorko.

”Imagine being able to afford living well like this, with a plot by the sea and everything. Look, some of them even have their own dock.” Goran jealously pointed at some boats moored by the newly oiled piers.

”What was the number?” Fredrik asked while trying to see what was written on the postboxes. The environment didn’t impress him at all but he noticed how his colleague was looking at every house they passed with wide-open eyes.

”Eight.” Goran was looking with longing on the large million dollar villas. He himself had to be content with a four-room apartment not far away from Frolunda Torg.

The dark clouds had been replaced by a clear blue sky and the sun was hot. Slowly they passed the few houses along the narrow, wet gravel road. It was just like coming to the country side from no-where. A blossoming meadow appeared in front of them. Buttercups, cranesbill, cow parsley, forget-me-nots and many other flowers were jostling like a palette of different colours. Opposite the sea a flock of white, curly haired sheep were grazing together with a bunch of brown and white cows. On the other side of the meadow the gentle waves of the sea were breaking against the rocks of Bohuslan.

They parked the car outside Sten Arvidsson’s red functionalist villa where a white Porsche Cayenne was adorning the drive-way. The house was large and faced towards the sea. Fredrik wrote down the registration number of the car before getting out, dialling the internal number for Anja.

”Could you check out a car for us, please?” Fredrik read out the number from his notes and went up toward the black post box.

”Of course, just a moment.” Anja put in the registration number in the Vehicle registration. ”There are no remarks at all on it.”

”OK, sounds good. By the way, I had a look in Sten’s post box. It’s empty apart from a few local flyers. Could you please give the post office a call. Ask them to check if he has cancelled his mail, forwarded it or stored it.” Fredrik closed his eyes for a few seconds, breathed the fresh summer air deeply into his lungs, wishing he was out on the sea instead.

”I’ll take care of it”, Anja answered kindly.

”Thanks, you are a treasure as usual.” Fredrik hung up, caught up with Goran who was walking around the house looking in through the big glass partitions.

”According to Anja, the car is OK. It belongs to Sten Arvidsson”, Fredrik said. ”I also asked her to check the mail since the post box was almost empty.”

”Good”, Goran replied.”There doesn’t seem to have been any burglary as far as I can see. Everything seems to be in order. Good.”

Fredrik went up to the double entrance door and rang the bell. When nobody opened he pushed down the handle just to make sure the door was locked. He wrote down the number to the well known alarm central who had their stickers well visible here and there before crossing the well-mowed lawn down to the boat house by the sea. On the way he picked a daisy, removing the petals one by one, just like he always used to do as a child. Love me, love me not, love me….Then he stopped, stared at Goran who had opened the boat-house and exclaimed:

”Oh my God! The old man bloody has a Grand Banks 65 in his boathouse and not only one but three water scooters.”

Goran stood with his hands in the jeans’ pockets, staring at the toys with big eyes. ”He wasn’t suffering at least.”

”Are you joking? Well, as long as we work the way we do we’ll never be able to afford such a beauty.”

”That might be true but at least we are alive and that’s more than you could say about the owner of all this stuff. What do you think, should we ask the neighbours what they have to say about Sten?”

Fredrik was looking at the sea, sniffing the aroma of seaweed and salt before going back up to the house. He had seldom seen such a well kept garden and around the house the roses in the flowerbeds were blossoming in spectacular colours. The fruit trees had been cut according to all the rules and you couldn’t see any sign of Sten Arvidsson having been at home for quite a while. Goran spat out the snug in his hand, put it in the lid of the container and immediately put in a new one under his lip.

”If I go to the right you can deal with the neighbours to the left. I’ll call Forensics on the way so they can start with the search. Let’s meet by the car when we’re done.”

On the way back to the Police station they stopped by at Ica Maxi in Torslanda and bought one grilled chicken each as well as a big container of potato salad. They also put some sweets on the conveyerbelt to impress Anja, she really loved Kit-Kat. They both knew that they would be in her good books for a while with this little surprise.

”Found anything?” Anja asked curiously when they passed her desk at the start of the corridor.

”As a matter of fact, yes” Goran answered and smiled so the tobacco showed. He picked up the box of sweets from the Ica bag and gave it to her.” We found a lost KIt-Kat who needs a new owner.” He winked before continuing into the big airy kitchen.

”Have a look, Fredrik, we’ve got ourselves a new coffee machine. That went fast.” Goran opened the kitchen cupboard and took out two plates.

”Thank you Anja.” They both shouted in chorus.

”What is all that noise?” Kerstin went up to the new vending machine and pushed on a coffee latte. ”Did you find anything at Sten Arvidsson’s?” She sat down on the sofa by the dining table while stirring the hot drink.

”No, nothing. He was living in luxury by the sea at Hjuvik and so far he seems like a model citizen. The neighbours had nothing bad to say about him either and they hadn’t seen him in quite a while, not since April. Apparently Sten has hired a company the last few years to look after his garden. You should have seen how extremely neat it was.” Goran was tapping on his container of tobacco while waiting for Fredrik to sit down so they could get started with the grilled chicken.