Stalker (37 page)

When Joona gets back to his old room early the next morning, Margot is sitting behind her desk wearing a T-shirt with the text ‘Guys with trucks are not lesbians’. Her thick plait has almost come unravelled, she has dark rings under her eyes and deep lines around her mouth.

‘I’ve been to an emergency meeting of senior officers,’ she tells him, helping herself to a bag of sweets. ‘The regional police chief, Carlos, Annika from the National Police Board. The preliminary investigation is now top priority, we’re getting a lot more resources … A national alert has been issued, and they’re preparing for a press conference tomorrow.’

‘How’s Adam?’ Joona asks.

‘I don’t know, he’s been relieved of duty, doesn’t want to see a counsellor … he’s got his family round him, but …’

‘Terrible,’ Joona says.

Joona hopes Erik has taken his advice to destroy his phone immediately after their conversation.

During the large police and emergency services operation at Sofa Zone in Högdalen they had to charter a bus to take all the people they’d apprehended to the custody unit in Huddinge while they waited for a decision from the prosecutor about arrests. The high number of dead and injured were assumed to be the victims of a bloody power-struggle in the criminal underworld.

One of the men taken into custody for possession of narcotics was Rocky Kyrklund. He had eleven capsules each containing 250 milligrams of 30 per cent heroin hidden in his clothes.

‘We saw the murderer at the Zone. Erik followed him to Katryna,’ Joona says, leaning forward.

‘How do you know that?’

‘Erik didn’t do it,’ Joona says.

‘Joona,’ Margot sighs. ‘You can discuss this with me. I know the two of you are friends, but be careful when you see the others.’

‘They need to know that he’s innocent.’

‘You don’t want it to be Erik, but perhaps he’s been deceiving you,’ she says patiently.

‘I saw a man in a yellow raincoat at the Zone, and remembered what Filip Cronstedt said about yellow oilskins … Erik followed him, and ended up at Adam’s.’

‘So how do you explain the fact that he knew all the victims, including Katryna?’ Margot says, holding his gaze.

‘When did he meet her?’

‘She was with us one time when Adam and I were round at his,’ she replies. ‘And Susanna Kern worked at the Karolinska as a nurse, she was on a course where Erik was one of the lecturers … We’ve got security camera footage of him talking to her.’

Joona gestures with his hand as if to say that the information is irrelevant.

‘So why would Erik be known as the preacher?’ he asks.

‘He’s smart, he’s tricked you … he can make Rocky remember anything he wants him to.’

‘Why?’

‘Joona, I don’t know everything yet, but Erik has been close to the investigation, and has been hampering our progress … We’ve finally got a witness statement from Björn Kern and it’s very clear that Erik didn’t tell us that Susanna’s body was posed with her hand over her ear.’

‘Did he see that when he was hypnotised?’

‘Erik knew the information about the ear would lead us to Rocky, and then to him, and—’

‘That doesn’t make sense, Margot.’

‘And Erik visited Rocky at Karsudden a few days before I asked him to go.’

Joona’s eyes turn cold as ice as he puts his hand on the folder.

‘This isn’t evidence,’ he says. ‘You know that, don’t you?’

‘It’s enough to bring him into custody, and enough for a search warrant, enough for a national alert,’ she replies stiffly.

‘It sounds to me like he’s been conducting his own investigations, and the rest is just coincidence.’

‘He fits the perpetrator profile. He’s divorced, single, has a history of substance abuse, and—’

‘So have half the police force,’ Joona interrupts.

‘The murders are extremely voyeuristic … we know that Erik is obsessed with filming his patients, even under hypnosis, when they don’t know anything about it.’

‘That’s just to stop him having to take notes.’

‘But he’s got thousands of hours in his archive, and … and a stalker is almost always slow, methodical … The investment in time is part of the ownership process, part of the quasi-relationship that develops.’

‘Margot, I hear what you’re saying, but could you at least entertain the possibility that Erik is innocent?’ Joona asks.

‘That’s possible, certainly,’ she replies honestly.

‘In which case you also have to consider the possibility that we’re losing sight of the real murderer, the one we’re calling the preacher.’

She forces herself to look away from him and glances at the time.

‘The meeting’s about to start,’ she says, getting to her feet.

‘I can find the preacher if you want me to,’ Joona says.

‘We’ve already got him,’ she replies.

‘I need my gun, I need all the material, the reports from the crime scenes, the post-mortems.’

‘I really shouldn’t agree to that,’ she says, opening the door.

‘And can you arrange for me to see Rocky Kyrklund in prison?’ Joona asks.

‘You don’t give up, do you?’ she says with a smile.

They walk slowly along the corridor together. Margot stops Joona outside the meeting room.

‘Bear in mind that the people waiting in here are Adam’s colleagues,’ she says with her fingers on the door handle. ‘The tone of the meeting is likely to be pretty tough, they need to vent their anger. It’s their way of showing their support for him, and the force as a whole.’

Joona follows Margot into the large meeting room. She makes a gesture that simultaneously say hello to everyone and tells them to remain seated.

‘Before we start … I know emotions are running high at the moment, and we’re a tolerant bunch, but I’d still like to encourage everyone to stick to a civilised tone,’ she says. ‘The preliminary investigation is entering a new phase, and will now be actively led by the prosecutor while we focus on making a quick arrest.’

She stops and catches her breath.

‘But our bosses have asked me to bring in Joona Linna, seeing as he is the homicide detective with the best results … there’s no contest, frankly, and …’

A few of the officers clap while others sit there staring at the table.

‘Naturally he won’t be officially involved in the preliminary investigation, but I hope he’ll be able to give the rest of us mere mortals a few tips along the way,’ Margot jokes, even though her eyes show no sign of amusement.

Joona takes a steps forward and looks at his former colleagues seated around the pale wooden table before speaking:

‘Erik is no murderer.’

‘What the fuck?’ Petter mutters.

‘Let’s hear him out,’ Margot says curtly.

‘I appreciate that there’s a lot of evidence pointing at Erik … and he should certainly be brought in for questioning, but seeing as I’m here to tell you what I think—’

‘Joona, I just want to say that I’ve had a meeting with the prosecutor,’ Benny says. ‘Her opinion is that we have very compelling evidence.’

‘The puzzle isn’t finished just because three pieces fit together.’

‘For fuck’s sake, Erik was there,’ Benny goes on, ‘outside the house. We found his car, he knows the victims, he’s lied to the police, et cetera, et cetera.’

‘I understand that you’ve already shot at him with live ammunition,’ Joona says.

‘He’s regarded as extremely dangerous and probably armed,’ Benny says.

‘But it’s all a mistake,’ Joona says, pulling out a chair.

He sits down at the table and leans back in his chair, making it creak.

‘We’re going to bring Erik in,’ Margot says. ‘And he’ll be remanded in custody and given a fair trial.’

‘Try catching a will-o’-the-wisp,’ Joona says quietly, thinking how the law is doomed never to achieve justice.

‘What’s he talking about?’ Benny asks.

‘The fact that you’re directing your own fears against an innocent man, because—’

‘We’re not fucking afraid,’ Petter interrupts.

‘Calm down,’ Margot says.

‘I’m not going to sit here and listen to—’

‘Petter,’ she warns.

The room falls silent. Magdalena Ronander fills her glass of water and tries to catch Joona’s eye.

‘Joona, maybe you’re thinking slightly differently because you’re no longer a police officer,’ she says. ‘I don’t mean anything negative, but that might be why we don’t understand what you’re saying.’

‘I’m saying that you’re letting the real murderer get away,’ Joona replies.

‘Right, that’s enough of this bullshit,’ Benny roars, slamming both hands down on the table.

‘Is he drunk?’ someone whispers.

‘Joona doesn’t give a shit about the force, and he doesn’t give a shit about us,’ Petter says in a loud voice. ‘There’s so much fucking talk about him, I don’t get it. Look at him, he dropped his fucking gun, it was his fault Adam got shot, and now—’

‘Maybe it would be best if you left,’ Margot says, putting a hand on Joona’s shoulder.

‘And now he comes here and tries to tell us how to run an investigation,’ Petter concludes.

‘One more thing,’ Joona says, standing up.

‘Just shut up,’ Petter snaps.

‘Let him speak,’ Magdalena says.

‘I’ve seen this plenty of times,’ Joona says. ‘When family, friends or colleagues are directly affected, it’s easy to start thinking of revenge.’

‘Are you trying to say that we aren’t going to act professionally?’ Benny asks with a cold smile.

‘I’m saying that there’s a chance that Erik will contact me, and I’d like to be able to offer him safe passage,’ Joona says seriously. ‘So that he dares to turn himself in and have his innocence proven in court.’

‘Of course,’ Magdalena replies, looking at the others. ‘That’s right, isn’t it?’

‘But if it’s true that you’ve already fired at him – how am I supposed to convince him to hand himself in?’

‘Just tell him we guarantee his safety,’ Benny says.

‘And if that isn’t enough?’ Joona says.

‘Lie better,’ he grins.

‘Joona, have you actually seen the pictures of Katryna?’ Petter says agitatedly. ‘I can’t believe it’s even her … What do I say to my wife? This is so fucking sick … I mean, think about Adam, think about what he’s going through right now … I have to say, I personally don’t give a shit what happens to your friend.’

‘Everyone’s upset,’ Margot says. ‘Obviously, we want to make it easier for him to hand himself in, and naturally, he’ll get a fair trial—’

‘Assuming he doesn’t hang himself in his cell before then,’ says a young officer who has been quiet up to now.

‘That’s enough,’ Magdalena says.

‘Or swallows some broken glass,’ Benny mutters.

Joona pushes his chair back and nods towards the others.

‘I’ll be in touch when I’ve found the real killer,’ he says, and leaves the room.

‘He’s totally fucking pathetic,’ Petter mutters as his steps fade away down the corridor.

‘Before we go on I want to say something,’ Margot begins. ‘Like you, I believe that Erik is the murderer, but if we all take a step back … Can we even entertain the possibility that we might be wrong, that Erik is actually innocent?’

‘Aren’t you supposed to be giving birth soon?’ Benny asks sarcastically.

‘I’ll give birth when I’m done with this case,’ she replies drily.

‘Let’s get to work,’ Magdalena says.

‘OK … This is how things stand at the moment,’ Margot says. ‘We’ve issued a national alert, but we know that Erik’s got enough money to leave the country … We’ve started our searches, of both Erik’s home and his place of work … We’re trying to trace his mobile phone … his bank cards have been blocked, but he managed to withdraw a large amount last night … the area around the cash machine is being searched … We’re watching five addresses, and …’

She tails off when there’s a knock at the door. Anja Larsson enters the room. Without acknowledging the others she leans over and has a whispered conversation with Margot.

‘OK,’ Margot says after a while. ‘It looks like we’ve managed to trace Erik’s mobile. He’s somewhere close to Växjö, in Småland. It looks like he’s heading south.’

Erik is lying wrapped up in the grey cover he took from a parked motorbike. He wakes up, freezing. It’s light now, and he realises he’s underneath an amelanchier in a thicket of ornamental shrubs. He must have slept for three hours, and his body feels tight with cold. His whole body aches as he sits up and looks around. A dark bronze woman in old-fashioned clothes stares blindly at him from her plinth.

The sun is shining off the green leaves, sparkling in the cold.

Erik climbs over a red fence and crosses over to the shaded side of the street. He slowly warms up as he walks. He can’t really believe everything that happened yesterday.

He was heading towards Aspudden on foot when he spoke to Joona, who told him to get rid of his phone. Erik ducked into a doorway, copied down the most important numbers in his contacts, then switched his phone off.

In front of a bike shop on Hägerstensvägen he found a bus with the word ‘Smälandsbussen’ on the side. A group of weary-looking youngsters in crumpled clothes was gathered on the pavement. Parents were helping to unload rucksacks and sleeping bags from the open baggage compartments.

Erik went inside the bus, pretending to look for something that had been left behind, and quickly pushed his mobile down between two seats.

He stepped out of the rear door, grabbed a cap from a case and tucked it inside his jacket, then carried on towards the underground station. He stopped at the cashpoint in front of the Nordea Bank. He didn’t look up, but was aware of the security camera as he withdrew the maximum amount possible from his account. Then he walked back towards the bus again, and watched as the doors closed and it drove off.

Only a couple of youngsters were left on the pavement.

Erik pulled on the baseball cap as he hurried along Södertäljevägen, crossed the Liljeholmen Bridge, bought water and a large hamburger from the Zinkensgrillen kiosk, and headed into a back street where he stood in a doorway and ate. When he was done he carried on walking, steering clear of main streets with banks and traffic surveillance cameras, and just kept walking for as long as he could, until he eventually found himself in Vitabergsparken.

Erik runs his fingers through his hair to flatten it. His clothes are creased but not dirty enough to attract attention. He needs to stay hidden until he can talk to Joona. He daren’t take any risks, even if the misunderstanding has hopefully been cleared up by now.

Erik starts to cross the street but stops abruptly between two parked cars when he happens to see a convenience store.

His stomach gurgles with unease.

Among the notification of lottery wins and adverts for the football pools, the flysheets of the evening tabloids scream: POLICE HUNT SWEDISH SERIAL KILLER.

He recognises himself from the pixelated photograph. In accordance with press ethics they have kept his identity hidden. It’s only a matter of time, but for the moment his features are concealed by a mass of grainy squares.

The early edition of the other tabloid has no picture, but the headline covers the whole flysheet in capital letters:

NATIONAL ALARM – SWEDISH PSYCHIATRIST SOUGHT FOR FOUR MURDERS.

Under the headline the paper’s contents are listed: victims, pictures, brutality, police.

He steps up on to the pavement and passes the shop as it gradually dawns on him the police really do believe that he murdered Katryna and the other women.

He’s the man they’re hunting.

Erik turns into a side street and his legs start to shake so badly that he has to slow down and eventually stop. He stands there, clutching a trembling hand to his mouth.

‘Oh, God,’ he whispers.

Everyone Erik knows will work out that he’s the man being referred to when they read the articles. Right now they’ll be calling each other, shocked, excited, disgusted.

Some of them will be full of schadenfreude, others will be sceptical.

It feels like he’s falling, but somehow he’s still standing.

Benjamin will know it isn’t true, Erik thinks, and starts walking again. But Madeleine will be frightened once his real identity starts to be blared out.

Through an open car window he catches fragments of a conversation in which he imagines he hears his own name mentioned.

Erik thinks that he’s going to have to hand himself over to the justice system after all, so that he can defend himself.

This can’t go on.

He pulls out a blister-pack containing four Mogadon pills, presses one into his hand, but changes his mind and throws the whole lot in a rubbish bin.

On Östgötagatan he finds a small shop selling second-hand mobile phones. While he’s waiting to be served he listens to the news on the radio. A neutral voice explains coolly that the hunt for the suspected serial killer is now in its second day.

His stomach contracts as if he were about to be sick when he hears the voice say that an arrest warrant has been issued for a psychiatrist at the Karolinska Hospital on reasonable suspicion of having murdered four women in the Stockholm area.

The police are saying little otherwise, out of consideration for the ongoing investigation, but are hoping to receive further information from the public.

The man behind the counter, with the arm of his glasses held together by a piece of tape, asks how he can help, and Erik tries to smile as he explains that he’d like a pay-as-you-go mobile.

A senior police officer is explaining about the resources that have been deployed in the search, and how this has already given positive results.

Erik changes direction as soon as he leaves the shop. He switches streets a number of times, but is aiming to leave the centre of the city via Danvikstull.

He doesn’t dare stop and take out the phone before he’s passed the Tram Museum. He stands facing a yellow brick building and calls Joona Linna.

‘Joona, this is impossible,’ he says quickly. ‘Have you seen the papers? I can’t keep on hiding.’

‘You have to give me more time.’

‘No, I’ve made up my mind. I want you to arrest me and take me to the police.’

‘I can’t guarantee your safety.’

‘I don’t care,’ he says.

‘I’ve never seen the police so cut up, and not just Adam’s colleagues. It’s right across the board,’ Joona says. ‘It’s one thing to risk your own life, you’re aware of that when you enter operational service, but violence of this sort, directed at a police officer’s wife …’

‘You have to tell them I didn’t do this, you—’

‘I have, but they’ve linked you to each of the victims, and you were seen at the crime scene …’

‘What do I do?’ Erik whispers.

‘Stay hidden until I find the preacher,’ Joona replies. ‘I’m going to talk to Rocky, he’s in custody in Huddinge Prison.’

‘I could hand myself over to one of the evening tabloids,’ Erik says, aware of how desperate he sounds. ‘I could tell my own story, my version, and then I’d have journalists with me when I went to the police.’

‘Erik, even if that was possible, they’re already talking about your suicide in custody, about you hanging yourself or swallowing a piece of glass before the trial … It’s all a lot of talk, but I don’t want you to take the risk right now.’

‘I’ll call Nelly, she knows me, she knows I can’t have done this—’

‘You can’t do that. The police are watching her house … you need to find someone else you can stay hidden with, someone more distant, unexpected.’

Erik and Joona end the call. The cars are standing still, the bridge is being opened. Three sailing boats are on their way out to the Baltic.