Thomas Quick

by Hannes Råstam

  The TV documentary was about a resident of Messaure, Rune Nilsson, who had worked as a construction foreman until 1971. Once the dam was finished, Vattenfall and Jokkmokk municipality used increasingly strong-arm tactics to get the residents of the village to move away, which most accepted on voluntary terms.

  ‘Vattenfall tried to get me out by hook or crook, but . . . I suppose I’m a bit of a stubborn sort, so I just said “I’m not going anywhere”,’ Rune Nilsson said.

  It turned into a drawn-out battle, with Jokkmokk municipality turning off his water in an attempt to make him move. Ignoring their pleas and threats, he stayed on. After ten years the municipality gave up and let him stay on as Messaure’s only inhabitant.

  Thomas Quick watched the documentary with amazement and realised what a bad idea the railbus had been. But at least now he knew who Rune Nilsson was and what it looked like where he lived.

  This was bad luck for Rune Nilsson, who seemed a peaceful, friendly man.

  THE MISSING SIBLINGS

  THOMAS QUICK’S SIX siblings had been keeping up with what their crazy brother was saying – with disgust. They were burdened by the Quick story and before long they began to avoid any further information about their serial-killer brother, breaking off all contact with him and staying away from the subject of Sture Bergwall or Thomas Quick altogether. He ceased to exist for them.

  Eva, Sture’s younger sister, was the one who persevered with him for the longest. When I spoke to Eva, she told me about the nightmarish time they had had after Sture’s confession of the murder of Johan Asplund.

  ‘Every time I thought, Now it can’t get any worse But then it did! It just got worse and worse . . .’

  In the end, even Eva realised she had to sever her ties with Sture.

  So it was surprising when, early in 1995, Sten-Ove Bergwall emerged as the spokesman for the Bergwall siblings and struck an unforgiving tone towards his brother. In a number of interviews he made a categoric request to the psychiatric care system and the courts: ‘Never release Thomas Quick!’

  Sten-Ove was ten years older than Sture and had moved away from home when Sture was still a little boy. As adults, the two brothers rekindled their relationship over a shared interest in nature, sighthounds and racing bikes. In June 1982 they took part in ‘Den Store Styrkeprøven’ (The Great Test of Strength) bicycle race between Trondheim and Oslo, and a few months later they took over a kiosk on Koppartorget (Copper Square) in Hälsinggården, Falun, a business venture that lasted just short of four years.

  Nine years later Sten-Ove regarded his brother as a complete stranger. He wrote the book Min bror Thomas Quick, in which he questions who his younger brother really was. He warned of the manipulative Thomas Quick who for all those years managed to hide his evil side from his family. Sten-Ove’s conclusion was that his brother had developed a loathsome creature within himself which only his victims had seen.

  However, Sten-Ove Bergwall’s main reason for publishing the book was to redress the wrongs done to their parents. He maintained that he and his siblings had bright, loving memories of their parental home.

  The six children considered it unthinkable that their father could have raped Sture in front of their mother, and absolutely inconceivable that their beloved mother would have tried to drown Sture in a frozen lake.

  ‘I don’t doubt that it’s true for him,’ said Sten-Ove to Expressen’s Christian Holmén. ‘It’s a known fact that people in therapy are encouraged to come up with false memories.’

  After the book had been out for a while, Thomas Quick wanted to announce ‘certain clarifications’ concerning his brother. In a police interview on 10 April 1995 he alleged that Sten-Ove had participated in the murder of Johan Asplund:

  Quick says that, while they were travelling to Sundsvall, Sten-Ove Bergwall was quite aware of the fact that they were looking for a boy who would be their victim. Sten-Ove tried to wind Quick up by saying something to the effect of: ‘Show me you have the guts to kill a boy.’

  Once they got to the place where they took Johan’s life, Sten-Ove behaved in a superior manner and tried to fire Quick up by the things he said, including, ‘So kill him then!’

  At their second meeting, the Quick Commission had decided to arrange interviews with the people who knew Quick, in order to build up a picture of his credibility. The very highest priority would be given to his siblings, who were to be questioned about their childhood years in the family home. Detectives Jan Olsson and Ture Nässén confirmed to me and Jenny Küttim that the interviews were held in the spring of 1995, in connection with the investigation into the double murder in Appojaure.

  The task had been passed to Detective Inspectors Anna Wikström and Ann-Helene Gustafsson, but we did not find a trace of the interviews among the investigation material, not even in the so-called slush. We applied to the district court in Gällivare for copies of the missing documents, but they replied that they didn’t have them. We sent a request to the police authority in Sundsvall and received the same answer. Christer van der Kwast passed us over to Seppo Penttinen, who in turn informed us that he did not ‘recognise our errand’ and so couldn’t comment on it and that ‘the documentation you are asking for is not found in the material I have at my disposal’, both of which were roundabout ways of saying that the interrogation transcripts simply didn’t exist.

  At the same time Sture Bergwall’s siblings informed us individually that they had been questioned by Anna Wikström and Ann-Helene Gustafsson. So what had they said in those interviews?

  Ever since the first headlines about Thomas Quick, Örjan Bergwall had been trying to avoid every newspaper article, radio or television report on his brother. But he still knew far more than he would have preferred. The two police officers wanted to know about Örjan’s memories of growing up, and he replied that he had recollections of a very secure childhood.

  They had moved to Korsnäs, outside Falun, in 1956, just in time for Örjan to start school. The family then consisted of seven children and two adults, who all managed to get along in a ninety-eight-square-metre flat with three rooms and a kitchen. Their father, Ove, worked in a factory making boxes and Thyra, their mother, had found a job as a school caretaker.

  Örjan recalled Sture as talented, highly creative and dynamic but with some ‘lack of motor skills’ in his movements. He was also markedly independent even as a young boy.

  Their father was slightly authoritarian, maybe a touch too strict, but also a very friendly person with a good sense of humour. Their mother was a stable and dependable person committed to the well-being of all her children. There were never any long-lasting quarrels in the parental home and Örjan did not recall any real unpleasantness during his childhood. The children never received any corporal punishment at the hands of their parents. Sexual molestation? No, Örjan had never noticed anything like that, and he was utterly dumbfounded at the mere suggestion. There were so many siblings that if anything of that nature had taken place, surely someone would have noticed?

  Örjan knew that Sture had committed various crimes. Among other things he had sexually assaulted a young boy at the hospital in Falun and, after that, had been in care at various institutions. In the 1970s, Örjan and his parents had visited Sture at Säter and Sidsjön hospitals. According to Örjan, after that Sture had started improving and he became much more stable in the early 1980s.

  By the time of the bank robbery in Grycksbo in 1990, their contact had grown more sporadic. Sture mostly just sent letters about how much he missed his family. The last time Örjan spoke to him was at the beginning of his course of therapy with Kjell Persson. Örjan seemed to recall how, on that occasion, Sture had said that he could see ‘a light at the end of the tunnel’ and Örjan, interpreting this in a positive sense, told Sture that he hoped he would start finding positive aspects in his life.

  Örjan told me that he would never forget the day he swung into a petrol station to refuel his car and saw his brother staring out from the fr
ont pages of both the evening newspapers. That was when the nightmare began and it was still looking unlikely to be over in the near future. But he never spoke about this to the two police officers.

  Instead he remembered towards the end of the questioning how they brought up a question that ought to have been of great interest to the investigators: Sture’s driving skills. Örjan mentioned that Sture got his driving licence very late on, at some point in the late 1980s. Sture had driven with him once as a learner driver, and Örjan’s view prior to Sture’s test was that he was essentially unable to drive a car.

  *

  Torvald Bergwall remembered that he met with Detective Inspectors Anna Wikström and Jan Karlsson in the Mikaeli Church in Västerås, where he was the vicar. They explained that the questioning was part of the investigation into the Appojaure murders, while also touching upon the murders of Johan Asplund and Olle Högbom.

  Torvald Bergwall also spoke of an untroubled childhood without any memories of sexual molestation or violence. According to him, the version of events circulating in the press was simply untrue. He had always known Sture had mental problems, but their parents hadn’t spoken of this openly, because in those times such things were shameful. But they had been very loyal to Sture and never abandoned him. They always took care of him and often visited him at Säter after he was sectioned in the 1970s.

  Torvald also remembered Sture’s poor coordination while they were growing up – lisping and jumbling his words, which sometimes caused the other children to laugh at him. He mentioned one occasion when the siblings were trying to teach Sture to ride a bicycle but in their eagerness forgot to tell him how to apply the brakes. Sture cycled right into a wall and hurt himself so badly that the children were frightened. This, according to Torvald, was a typical example of their ‘inability to grasp his handicap with his motor skills’.

  In addition Torvald mentioned that Sture took his driving test very late and had to try several times before he passed. Torvald never saw Sture driving a car before then and had given a great deal of thought to how he had supposedly made his way to all these places where the murders to which he had confessed took place. According to the vicar, it was simply not feasible that Sture had driven himself.

  And so it continued: all of Sture Bergwall’s siblings confirmed that they had been questioned by the Quick Commission, and all had given a picture of their childhood that departed in every possible way from the stories that had emerged from Quick’s therapy at Säter. Some people would say that their unanimous testimony revealed that Thomas Quick had very likely given an untrue description of his childhood and above all had false accused his parents of extremely serious crimes.

  So what happened to the transcripts of the interviews with the Bergwall siblings?

  They weren’t archived at the police authority in Sundsvall, and were clearly kept from the general public, the media, lawyers and law courts that sentenced Thomas Quick.

  As far as I can tell they were never evaluated, nor even read except by those who had conducted the interviews, and of course by Seppo Penttinen and Christer van der Kwast.

  A MISSING HOUR

  ON SUNDAY, 9 JULY 1995 a ten-seater private jet belonging to the dance band the Vikings landed at Gällivare Airport. But instead of Christer Sjögren and his fellow band members, Thomas Quick disembarked with Birgitta Ståhle, four care assistants and a number of police officers.

  After staying the night at the psychiatric clinic in Gällivare Hospital, the group set off down the E45, heading south towards Porjus in a Toyota Hiace.

  The memory expert Sven Åke Christianson had gained a great deal of influence over the investigation, not least in the methods they used in staging the reconstructions. Quick hadn’t wasted any time in getting to grips with these new ideas. For instance, when the minibus was about to turn off towards Appojaure, he insisted that they first had to drive to Porjus and then turn round, as this was the route he had taken with Johnny Farebrink when they drove to the murder scene.

  In this way the journey was supposed to correspond with the events of 12 July 1984.

  It was 14.15 by the time the white Toyota turned onto Vägen Västerut (the Westerly Road) towards Stora Sjöfallet and Appojaure. Quick’s anxiety attacks grew more and more frequent and he claimed that he recognised their whereabouts. They had to stop the minibus so he could get out and throw up.

  ‘It mustn’t be true, it can’t be true,’ he moaned.

  The small turn-off to the picnic spot by Appojaure was impossible to miss, as the police had cordoned off the area and posted sentries.

  ‘On arrival, Quick had to take medication, Xanax,’ wrote Penttinen in the reconstruction report.

  Quick stepped out of the vehicle, wearing a blue baseball cap, a green anorak, black jeans and black trainers. Walking with Seppo Penttinen, he familiarised himself with their surroundings and waited for the forensic technicians to prepare the last few details before the reconstruction could begin.

  Every time he’d been asked about it during questioning, Quick had placed the car and the tent incorrectly, while also positioning the man and the woman on the opposite sides to where they had actually been. Yet when they arrived at Appojaure the technicians had arranged everything exactly as it was at the time of the murders.

  The police had even specially ordered a tent from the Netherlands and got hold of a green car from the mid-1970s which resembled those belonging to the murder victims.

  All this was exactly in line with Sven Åke Christianson’s ‘cognitive interrogation techniques’. By re-creating the environment in detail, Quick was supposed to gain easier access to his repressed memories. Penttinen started asking the sorts of questions that Christianson had taught him: Do you remember how you were feeling? What can you hear? Can you remember any smells? All this to help Quick bring back memories from the traumatic event.

  ‘If you keep your eyes closed and try to reach back in your thoughts, till you’re in 1984,’ said Penttinen.

  The experienced investigators Ture Nässén and Jan Olsson watched this unfolding spectacle with grim faces. Later, Olsson commented to me: ‘It’s the suspect who’s supposed to place everything as he remembers it. But everything here had been arranged exactly right; the doubles were positioned exactly like the victims. Quick arrived and found his bed already made. It was nothing like how a reconstruction should really be.’

  Jan Olsson also found it irritating that Christianson was ordering people around on the crime scene.

  ‘Christianson was pacing about with firm steps and a serious look on his face. He had a lot of influence. “You have to move out of the way so you’re out of sight,” Christianson told me and other police officers. We were basically pushed away and as a result we couldn’t hear much of what Quick and Seppo were saying.’

  The figure representing Johnny Farebrink joined Quick. The two murderers, while exchanging whispers, tiptoed up to the little brown tent, each of them holding an implement representing a knife. When Quick reached the tent he made a furious assault on the side of the canvas that was facing the lake. After a few lunges he handed his knife to ‘Farebrink’, who started stabbing at the tent canvas with two knives at the same time. Quick took his knife back and charged into the opening.

  Inside the tent, Hans Ölvebro and Anna Wikström were in position, and she cried out, ‘No! No! No!’

  As soon as Quick ran into the tent it was chaos. He growled and grunted, now fully regressed and transformed into his murderous Ellington identity. He tossed the tent poles out through the open tent flap. Anna Wikström continued yelling, while Penttinen watched the pandemonium from outside. At that moment Birgitta Ståhle came running with the nurses from Säter, who were ready to intervene.

  ‘Give it up now! Give it up!’ shouted Penttinen to Quick.

  He seemed to have calmed down somewhat inside the tent, but his guttural, monotonous growling could still be heard as the video camera was switched off. The time shown on the video footage
was 16.09.

  When the police video of the reconstruction resumed, Thomas Quick seemed much more collected and determined. He and the other figure stole forward towards the tent, while Quick continuously commented on what was happening.

  ‘Here we’re sneaking up and checking that it’s all quiet. And from this position you go forward and loosen the stays from the middle and back.’

  ‘Johnny Farebrink’ loosened the pegs of the outer tent and it folded up. This was an important detail, as a number of slashes from the knife only went through the inner tent and not the outer.

  The reconstruction proceeded like a sort of interactive dialogue between Quick and Penttinen, with the chief interrogator providing continuous feedback. He reminded Quick about information he had given in the interviews, clarified and made suggestions of his own.

  In all, some thirty bystanders watched Quick convincingly demonstrate how, twelve years earlier, he had murdered two people in cold blood in this deserted place. Six months later, as we know, Gällivare District Court was also convinced when an edited version of the reconstruction was shown in the courtroom. Seppo Penttinen added some voice-over to the video: ‘While Quick was immersed in the attack there was a technical fault with the tape recorder. The interruption only lasted for a minute.’

  Penttinen’s statement about the one-minute interruption was untrue. The camera was restarted at 17.14. What happened in that hour was not recorded on tape, but Jan Olsson remembered.

  ‘Thomas Quick and Seppo Penttinen went off to one side to talk. Then we heard that a decision had been made to prepare the tent again and have another go at the reconstruction.’

  According to several of the policemen on the scene, Quick also spoke in the interval to Christianson. Sture Bergwall himself remembered that Penttinen, during their little chat, put his hand on his shoulder and said, ‘You do remember telling us that first you loosened the pegs of the outer sheet and folded it up?’