The Torso dih-2

by Helene Tursten

  The Torso

  ( Det. Inspector Huss - 2 )

  Helene Tursten

  Helene Tursten. The Torso

  (Det. Inspector Huss — 2)

  The author would like to emphasize that the book cannot be used as a tourist guide, either in Copenhagen or in Göteborg. Streets, alleys, squares and other places are used with great freedom. In addition, none of the characters are deliberately based on real persons.

  Sammie would also like to point out that he has never participated in the creation of mixed-breed puppies. He is the proud father of nine guaranteed pure bred ones.

  Prologue

  THE WIND GAVE NO warning of the ghastly discovery. Just the opposite. Even though it was early May, the wind blowing in from the sea was surprisingly mild and heavy with the smell of seaweed. The sunlight skipped and played upon the inner surfaces of the low waves in an attempt to pretend that summer had already come. It was one of those bonus days that can appear during the spring and then disappear just as quickly.

  The woman and the black Labrador were alone down by the water. The dog was doing his best to get a laughing gull at the edge of the beach excited but it soared up a few meters1 over the water’s surface, flew a short distance, and lived up to its name.

  The dog finally tired of the annoying seagull. At the water’s edge he snatched up a large branch from among the driftwood left by the winter’s storms. The branch was more than a meter long and difficult to balance in his mouth. Wobbling slightly, he set a course toward his mistress. With an appealing look he laid the branch, bleached gray by the sun and saltwater, at her feet. She bent and tried to break it into smaller pieces better suited to throwing but had to give up. Her toss was clumsy and relatively short, but the dog ran off eagerly. He proudly brought the branch back to his mistress, received praise and petting, let go of his pretty toy, and waited expectantly for her to hurl it again. The shiny black body shook with restrained power. When she threw the branch the dog instantly raced off.

  This was a very pleasing game that the dog didn’t seem to weary of. However, after a while, his owner’s throwing power began to taper off. She finally walked over to a flat rock and sat down. She said loudly, “No, Allan. That’s enough. I have to rest a bit.”

  The dog was absolutely crestfallen with disappointment. His tail, which had been wagging so proudly earlier, now pointed straight down at the sand. He nudged her hands with his nose a few times, but she quickly stuck them into her jacket pockets, turned her face toward the sun, and closed her eyes. She sat still for a long time.

  When she opened her eyes again, she couldn’t see him on the deserted beach. Alarmed, she got up and looked around in all directions. She laughed with relief when she spotted his tail sticking out from behind a large boulder, a little way into the water.

  During the summer, children would play in an area between three high boulders that formed a small triangular pool one of whose angles pointed due west. The opening facing the ocean was narrow, barely half a meter in width. The kids screamed with joy when the gushing water surged through the boulders and poured down over them. The space was small but often ten kids succeeded in cramming themselves between the rocks.

  The tide was unusually low so Allan had dared to venture out to the rock formation and had squeezed between the rocks that made up the base of the triangle. He had frozen there.

  “Allan! Come here!” the woman called commandingly at the dog but he pretended not to hear. He suddenly disappeared behind the rocks. Grumbling, she headed down to the water’s edge to summon him. She stopped uncertainly at the edge of the lapping waves. The water was ice cold.

  “Allan. Come here! Come! Here!”

  It didn’t matter which commands or tone of voice she used. No sign of the dog could be seen. But she knew that he was out there between the rocks.

  Angrily, she pulled off her shoes and socks. Swearing under her breath, she rolled up her pant legs and started wading out into the freezing water. Luckily, it was only ankle deep.

  The rock formation was located about ten meters from the shore. When she was just a few meters from the opening between the boulders she detected a faint nauseating smell. Because she was angry it didn’t really register until she had, with considerable effort, squeezed between the rocks.

  Floating in the triangular pool was a black plastic bag with a hole where the gulls had been pecking at it. Allan stood still with his head inside the hole. The woman quickly waded over to the dog while yelling, “No! Allan! No!”

  She gripped the scruff of his neck firmly. He growled and refused to let go of the contents of the sack. Summoning all her strength, she managed to lift his hindquarters and twist his body so that his back faced the water’s surface and his legs stuck up toward the steel blue sky. Then he finally let go. Whimpering, he jumped into the water. Only his head remained above the surface. She quickly used one hand to push hard against his throat and with the other she got an iron grip on one of his front legs. She looked the dog straight in the eye the whole time, a low sound rising from her chest. He growled angrily again, and stared back, red-eyed. He finally quieted and looked to the side, to show that he was giving up. Slowly, she released him. It wasn’t until then that she glanced through the hole in the sack.

  At first she thought what she saw looked like the mark of a branding iron. She realized a second later that it was a tattoo.

  Chapter 1

  ONLY SUPERINTENDENT SVEN ANDERSSON,Detective Inspector Irene Huss, and her colleague Jonny Blom were gathered in the superintendent’s office at the police station that evening. It was almost seven thirty. The superintendent felt that it wasn’t necessary to call in th remaining inspectors from Violent Crimes as well. They would have to make do with the two officers who had been at the crime scene. The rest would be informed at “morning prayers” the next day.

  They gathered around the desk with their steaming mugs of coffee. Without any fancy introductory remarks Sven Andersson began. “What do we have so far?”

  “We got the call around lunchtime. An old lady had taken her dog down to the ocean-”

  Almost brusquely, the superintendent interrupted Jonny. “Where by the ocean?”

  “Near Stora Amundön. Or just south of it, just before Grundsö. A small beautiful sandy beach called Killevik. There are some large boulders shaped like a triangle. The lady’s dog found a black plastic bag in the triangle and-”

  “Sorry to interrupt you, but the lady is two years older than I am and three years younger than you, and her name is Karla Melander. She lives on Klyfteråsvägen in Skintebo. Not far from Killevik,” said Irene Huss.

  “Doesn’t she have a job? How come she wasn’t working in the middle of the week?” Andersson wondered aloud.

  “She’s a pediatric nurse and had worked over the weekend. Apparently she had yesterday and today off. Yesterday it was blowing quite hard so they hadn’t been down to the beach, but today the weather was gorgeous. They’ve only been there once since Easter. The weather was nice then, too, but ever since, it has just been wind and rain this miserable spring.”

  “Can we stop talking about the weather and get back to the essentials?” Jonny Blom said sharply.

  Before the other two had time to answer, he picked up where he had been interrupted. “There was a large hole in the bag that was probably caused by birds. The dog evidently stuck his head in the sack and bit a body. It seems to be just the upper portion of a torso. The arms have been removed about ten centimeters from the shoulders. There is a distinct bite mark and the flesh is torn on the lower part of an arm stump. On the right shoulder, which was facing the hole, there is a large tattoo in different colors. That’s what we could see. Forensics will have to come up with more information.” />
  “So there’s no lower half?”

  “No. Based on size it appears as though the body was divided at the waist.”

  “You don’t know if it’s a man or a woman?”

  Irene and Jonny looked at each other before Jonny responded with a trace of hesitation in his voice, “No. We don’t know for sure but we discussed it. Both Irene and I believe that it looks like there is a large wound where the breasts should be. But it was difficult to see. . the birds have been picking at it, and the body is quite decayed.”

  “Severed breasts. Sexual homicide! I’ll be damned. That’s about the worst there is. And then the other parts will have to be searched for,” the superintendent said drearily.

  He stood and went over to the map that was hanging on the wall. Göteborg and its surrounding areas, from Kungälv in the north to Kungsbacka in the south, were shown on the large detailed map. With his index finger, he followed the coastline from the entrance to the harbor down to Killevik. He used a short pin with a red plastic top to mark the precise place where the sack had been found.

  He took a step back and examined the map for a while. Finally he turned toward the two detectives and said, “We need to find out how the currents run and how strong they are. There may also be a need to find out about the recent weather. We should know when there were storms.”

  “Storms? Why are we talking about the weather again?” Jonny whined.

  “Because a body in the condition you have just described can’t walk between the rocks and lie down in the calm water by itself.”

  Andersson gave Jonny a look as sharp as his tone of voice before he continued. “The body part could have gotten there a number of different ways. It could have been put there at the outset. Then you have to ask yourself why all of the body parts aren’t in the same place. If they were placed in different locations along the coastline, more of them should have been found by now.”

  “There are a lot of small uninhabited islands west and southwest of Killevik,” Irene said.

  “Exactly. Tomorrow we’ll have to search all of them. As well as the beaches south and north of the discovery site. Another possibility is that the sack floated quite a way since gases are produced when flesh starts rotting. . ”

  The superintendent stopped himself and Irene could see a look of nausea quickly pass over his face. He swallowed before he continued. “As I was saying, the sack might have floated and then been washed over the rocks during a storm. The waves crash over them when the wind is blowing hard. Maybe the sack tore when it was thrown against the rocks so that it couldn’t wash out again as easily. That’s why I’m interested in pin-pointing recent storms. It may give us an idea of how long the sack has been there.”

  He fell silent, considering. The obvious follow-up question-after where were the other body parts-was, Who was the victim?

  “When I talk to the reporters tonight I’m only going to say that we’ve found the upper part of the torso of a dead person. I’ll say that we can’t provide any more information until the medical examiner has conducted a more thorough examination.”

  Irene and Jonny nodded. At this initial stage of the investigation, there really wasn’t much to go on. They didn’t know the victim’s sex. They didn’t have a head, a lower body, arms, or legs, and they had no idea of the cause of death.

  Chapter 2

  “ PART OF DISMEMBERED MURDER victim found at swimming place” was the caption in the Göteborg Post. Irene Huss read the article, eyes heavy with sleep. She had never been accused of being a morning person. Now she was trying to get her brain cells working with the morning’s second cup of coffee.

  Krister joined her at the breakfast table. Thudding on the stairs to the second floor warned of the twins’ imminent arrival.

  “Murder victim. Nobody knows yet if it’s a murder victim,” Irene muttered.

  “It can hardly be a case of suicide,” her husband countered, gently mocking her. More than anyone else, he was acquainted with his wife’s bad morning moods, and he knew better than anyone how easy it was to tease her before she got a few cups of coffee in her system. But he had to be careful and not go too far. Then the whole day would be ruined for everyone involved.

  “It very well could be,” Irene hissed.

  “Really? Good-bye, cruel world! Now I’m going to cut off my arms and legs and head in order to be absolutely certain that I’ll die!”

  Krister made a theatrical gesture and covered his eyes with one arm and with a closed fist raised the other to the ungracious powers above.

  Irene said, “There are necrophiles. They steal dead bodies-”

  She stopped herself when she saw her daughters standing in the doorway.

  “Pleasant conversation you’re having over breakfast,” Katarina said dryly.

  “What a horrible job you have, Mamma,” was Jenny’s comment.

  That really hurt. Irene loved her job and had never wanted to become anything other than a police officer. More than anything else, she had always felt it was something meaningful. Certainly, there were aspects of the profession that were less than pleasant but someone had to do the job. It was hard to explain to two teenage daughters, one of whom wanted to become a singer in a band like the Cardigans and the other, a guide for survival courses in remote jungles and mountain ranges. (Katarina would definitely also consider traveling around to exotic and remote destinations for a travel program on TV.)

  Irene took a large sip of extra-strong coffee in order to get herself ready for the day.

  DURING MORNING] prayers Superintendent Andersson informed his entire group about the little they knew with respect to the corpse discovered at Killevik. No new leads and no new body parts had been found so far. Andersson was waiting impatiently for what Forensics might come up with. Patience was not one of the superintendent’s strong points.

  In addition to Irene and Jonny, the group was made up of three more officers.

  Birgitta Moberg was the other woman in the group. She was a slender blonde with bright brown eyes who looked significantly younger than her thirty years. Many men were deceived by her gentle appearance, but she was a woman with a mind of her own.

  Hannu Rauhala was sitting beside her. His half-cropped hair was light blond, almost white. Usually he was quiet and reserved, but everyone knew that Hannu was extremely effective when it came to all types of inquiries and to investigating people.

  The third inspector in the group was Fredrik Stridh. Despite the fact that he was twenty-eight years old and had worked at Violent Crimes for three years, he was still viewed as the “youngster.” But his colleagues respected him for his never-failing good humor and his terrierlike stubbornness. He never let go if he caught the scent of a possible lead, no matter how faint it might be.

  The only one missing was Tommy Persson, Irene’s partner and best friend since the Police Academy in Ulriksdal. This morning he was lying on an operating table at the Eastern Hospital, being operated on for an inguinal hernia. He would be out for at least a week. Irene had called the night before and spoken with his wife, Agneta. In a conspiratorial tone she had confided to Irene, “Tommy isn’t a bit nervous. But of course he’s written out a will.” Irene could hear loud protests from Tommy in the background, who was threatening his wife with unpleasant consequences if she continued with her lies. Agneta was a head nurse at Alingsås Hospital and a good friend of Irene’s.

  “The Harbor Police will receive reinforcements and will continue the search of the islands and skerries outside Killevik. The Marines are providing divers. We’ll start at Killevik and later widen the search area toward Askimsfjorden.”

  Irene was startled out of her thoughts by the superintendent’s voice. He stood in front of the coastal map making circular motions over the light blue water. Andersson’s gaze moved quickly over the group before coming to rest on Hannu Rauhala.

  “Make contact with Pathology at lunchtime and try and find out how long the body has been dead. Then you can start going throug
h missing persons’ reports filed around the time the body would have been fresh.”

  Hannu nodded.

  The superintendent turned toward the others.

  “Everyone except Irene, go out to Skintebo and start knocking on doors. We want to find out whatever anyone observed that may have something to do with the discovery. Has anyone seen similar black sacks or anybody carrying black sacks at odd times? And you know the rest.” He stopped himself and sighed deeply before continuing, “Irene and I are going to try and tie up the loose ends surrounding the Angered murder. Everyone has been questioned and the hooligans have confessed, but we have a meeting with the prosecutor later this morning to go through the whole case.”

  IRENE HAD a great deal of admiration for Inez Collin. They were roughly the same age. Superintendent Andersson had always had problems with the female prosecutor and Irene often thought that the reason was that she was not only a woman but schooled in the law as well.

  Inez Collin looked absolutely fantastic, as usual. Today she was dressed in a light dove gray dress with matching shoes. Over the dress she was wearing a sober blazer that was a shade darker than the narrow dress. She had gathered her light hair into a ponytail and fastened it with a large silver clasp. Both her lips and nails were painted a delicious shade of bright red.

  It was always easy to work with her and they finished just before lunch. Andersson was in a hurry to leave the room. Maybe he was afraid that Inez Collin would suggest that they have lunch together, thought Irene.

  The truth was that Andersson wanted to find out if the pathologists had called. He was too impatient to wait for the elevator and started up the stairs instead. On the way he started to regret his impulsiveness. By the time he reached the Violent Crimes floor his face was flushed and he was gasping like a broken bellows. Slowly, he started to make his way down the corridor while trying to get his blood pressure and breathing under control.