The roar had probably come from Tom. A sumo wrestler summons up power and instills fear in his opponent with the help of loud screams, thought Irene.
“Hansen dialed the emergency number on his cell phone as he was running toward the bedroom. When he got there, he saw Tanaka lying on the floor in a rapidly growing pool of blood. The room was covered with it. A large blood vessel in his throat had been cut and his blood was pumping out.”
Irene’s stomach knotted when she pictured the scene in her head.
“Hansen saw a man dressed in black, wearing a hooded sweatshirt, disappear through the window. Hansen didn’t see his face, only his back. But he got the impression that the man was large. Not fat, but tall, with a large build.”
“Did he take anything?” Irene asked.
“Yes. A picture. Apparently a framed photograph. According to Hansen, there had been two on the wall. Now only one of them is left.”
“What’s the subject of the picture that’s still hanging there?”
“A naked man sitting in the water.”
The culprit had taken the backlit picture of the man standing in profile, leaning against a stone wall-the one that had sparked in Irene a faint feeling of recognition. He had left the picture of Marcus. She jumped out of her chair and said, “The mail!”
Without paying attention to her colleagues’ curious looks, she ran to get it. She heard Jonny say, “She’s been knocked totally off-kilter. This investigation has taken its toll. Women can’t see their limitations.”
To her joy, she heard Peter reply, “I don’t see her that way. Strongwilled, but definitely not off balance.”
With shaky fingers she started sorting her mail. There! She recognized the stiff exclusive envelope that was just like the one she had gotten Tom’s message in at the Hotel Alex. Triumphantly, she went back to her office bearing the white envelope and impatiently cut it open.
Two photographs floated down onto the desktop. Without a word, Irene pushed the pictures in front of Peter and Hannu’s surprised eyes. Jonny’s curiosity got the better of him and he drew closer in order to get a glimpse.
“How did you get these?” Peter asked, amazed.
Irene leaned back in her chair and said, “I’ll start from the beginning. But first I want to know if Tom is going to make it.”
Peter smiled widely for the first time since his arrival. “Of course. He’s had several blood transfusions and he’ll recover.”
The smile faded a bit when he continued, “The problem is that he lost so much blood that his brain may have been affected. But the doctors don’t know yet.”
At least Tom wasn’t going to die from his injuries. Irene would have to take comfort from that.
It didn’t take very long to explain her dealings with Tom to Peter. Since Hannu and Jonny had just heard it all, they studied both of the photographs. As Irene was finishing, Hannu looked up from the picture he held in front of him.
“I recognize this guy. But I can’t recall who he is.”
He turned the photo around. It was the backlit picture. Irene nodded.
“That’s exactly what I thought. Do you recognize him, too?” she asked Jonny.
He shook his head without looking at her. Peter took the picture and looked at it for a long time.
“No. I can’t say that I recognize him,” he said finally.
Irene took the picture back and stared intently at it, as if to force the man to turn toward the light. She had to put the photo down finally.
“It’s getting close to movie time,” Jonny said, and grinned.
They rose and went into an empty interrogation room where there was a TV with a VCR.
“We usually use this room for children we believe have been subjected to abuse,” Irene explained.
Peter nodded and put one of the films into the VCR.
The first thing they saw was a naked body lying on a long table. The table was covered with strong, see-through plastic. Scaffolding and miscellaneous junk could be seen under and behind the table. In the background, a sturdy tackle hung from a chain fixed to the ceiling. It appeared to be a large industrial building. Above the table, a bare lightbulb emitted a harsh light.
There was absolutely no doubt that the person on the table was dead. The camera zoomed in on a long incision that ran along the front of the corpse’s abdomen. It was obvious that the internal organs had been removed. At first it was difficult to decide if the body was male or female, since both chest muscles and the genitals had been cut away. But based on the curves of the hips and the thighs, Irene concluded that the body was that of a woman.
Peter hit the pause button and spoke. “We found these two films in a hidden compartment in Emil’s bookcase. These are copies that you can keep. There is no soundtrack on either of the films. This is Carmen Østergaard’s body. Neither the actual murder nor the rituals performed with the body afterward are shown. As you can see, the pelvic area is severely damaged. What follows now is the dismemberment itself. That’s Emil’s thing.”
Peter started the tape again. Emil Bentsen walked into the frame with a large circular saw in his right hand. He was dressed in a police uniform. When he stared at the camera from under the police cap, he looked absurd, almost comical, if it hadn’t been for his expression. His thin face was completely distorted, and his eyes stared wildly. He grinned and motioned toward the camera.
The camera zoomed in on the body again, this time on the head. Irene had time to see Carmen’s wide-open eyes and swollen tongue, sticking out of her mouth, indicating she had been strangled. Then Emil stepped in front of the camera and the screen became completely dark.
The next scene showed Emil as he sawed off Carmen’s head. He had positioned himself on the far side of her body, so he wouldn’t be in the way of the camera. As the head rolled to the side and fell to the floor, he raised the circular saw in the air in a show of victory. He bent and picked up the head, took a tight grip on the hair, and showed off his trophy proudly. The circular saw, with its red-colored blade, was still spinning. Emil turned it off, placed it on the plastic-covered table, and stepped close to the lens, Carmen’s head dangling from his outstretched hand. Irene saw his lips moving. He seemed to be talking the whole time. His chin and goatee were covered with drool.
“Stop!” Hannu screamed.
The scene ended and the next one started. Emil stood leaning over the body again, in the process of starting the saw. Peter Møller stopped the video.
“Back up,” Hannu instructed.
Without commenting, Peter did so.
“Stop,” Hannu said again.
Again they saw Emil move toward them with the sawed-off head held out in front of him.
“Play it slowly,” said Hannu.
They watched the replay of the horrible scene in slow motion.
“Stop!”
Peter paused the picture instantly.
“Look in the lower left-hand corner,” Hannu said and pointed at an indistinct light curvature. “Can you back up a little?”
Peter did as he was asked. Slowly, the size of the little curvature grew and became longer. It was still barely discernible down in the corner of the picture. Then it disappeared.
Peter rewound the tape and played the sequence again.
“It’s definitely the tip of a finger. The person who’s filming this scene doesn’t want the head near him,” said Hannu.
“You’re absolutely right. We’ve played it with magnification. It’s the index finger of a left hand. The entire nail is visible,” said Peter.
Peter started the tape again.
Now they watched Emil saw off Carmen’s arms and legs. When he was done, he grabbed both of the severed arms and shook them above his head in a second show of victory. His entire face was transfigured with joy.
That’s where the video ended.
“Altogether, it’s thirteen minutes,” Peter informed them.
“Does the next film show the dismemberment of Marcus Tosscande
r?” Irene asked.
“Yes. And they’re strikingly similar,” Peter answered.
The other video began with the same panning over the body, which was in exactly the same condition as Carmen’s had been before Emil’s appearance. Marcus was lying on a sturdy piece of particleboard that could be glimpsed under the clear plastic, resting on two trestles. Bare cement walls could be seen in the background. But this room was much smaller than the one in the first film. Irene guessed it to be a basement or a garage.
Emil was dressed in a police uniform this time as well, and he held the circular saw in his hand from the start. Now he was used to the camera and didn’t obstruct the cameraman’s view when he sawed off the head. Without changing his position vis-à-vis the camera, he held up the head and roared with laughter. Then he cut off the arms and legs. In conclusion he took one of Marcus’s legs and lifted it straight above his head. That was the final picture.
“Ten minutes,” Peter said dryly.
“Damn, this stuff is sick!” Jonny exclaimed.
Irene felt ill. At the same time she realized the importance of the videos.
“Have you been able to locate where the dismemberments took place?” she asked tensely.
“With respect to the first murder, we have a theory that the dismemberment may have taken place in an old, abandoned shipyard building. There are several of those out by Frihamnen, a few kilometers from Hellerup. That’s where the sacks were found. We have people going through all of the abandoned shipyard buildings with a fine-tooth comb. If we don’t get anything there, we’ll go through industrial sites. It’s a huge job, but we’re going to do it.”
“How about the location where Marcus was dismembered?”
“Harder. It appears to be a basement. It’s probably located in Göteborg, since he was found here.”
Irene nodded and said, “I think that’s a correct assumption. There was no reason to transport Marcus’s dismembered body to Göteborg. The risk of getting caught at customs would always exist.”
“We know that he was alive when he came to Göteborg at the beginning of March,” Jonny pointed out.
“Yes. He called Anders Gunnarsson. And according to a neighbor lady he had been in his apartment because the plants were watered and his summer clothes were gone,” Irene agreed.
Hannu had been sitting motionless during the entirety of the last film, but now he turned to Peter and said, “That means that Emil and his accomplice also came along to Göteborg.”
“I think the accomplice was already in place. He was waiting for Emil and Marcus here,” Irene said.
Jonny was still noticeably pale but now he cleared his throat and asked, “Why didn’t Marcus drive his car when he came home to pack?”
“A very good question. But that’s the obvious answer to why we haven’t gotten any positive leads when we asked the different ferry lines about the car. His red American vehicle would be very conspicuous,” said Irene.
“That’s why,” Hannu said.
The other three turned their questioning looks toward him. “Because it was conspicuous,” Hannu said.
Irene thought hard but didn’t understand Hannu’s meaning. “They were going to leave from Landvetter,” Hannu continued.
Jonny’s paleness was replaced by a flush of annoyance. “How do you know that?” he hissed angrily.
“They were going on a long trip to Thailand. It wasn’t a good idea to leave the car parked for an even longer time on the street. Marcus didn’t have a garage. Emil did, so they parked Marcus’s car in Emil’s garage, and took Emil’s car to Göteborg. Or maybe his accomplice’s.”
Peter nodded and said, “We’ll go through all of the facts again. But this time we’ll look for Emil’s car. I think you are right.”
“Were all three of them planning on going to Thailand? Or at least is that what Marcus believed?” Irene said thoughtfully.
“It’s very possible,” said Hannu.
“Did you notice that there weren’t any internal organs or muscles left in the bodies in the films?” Peter wondered. He continued without waiting for an answer, “Our theory is that they were placed in different containers. In the film where Carmen is dismembered you can see the rim of a large plastic bucket. It’s standing right next to the table she’s lying on. Our thinking is that the head and the internal organs were placed in that bucket and covered with cement. The bucket was then sunk out in the ocean. The sacks floated, as you know.”
His Swedish colleagues pondered this theory.
“You think the same thing happened with Marcus’s head and organs?” Hannu said finally.
“Yes.”
“And the buttocks and muscles were eaten by those sick bastards?” Jonny exclaimed.
Peter answered neutrally, “Probably.”
He ejected the tape and put it back in its case before he went on, “Blokk watched both videos last night. He said that Carmen had probably been dead for at least eight hours before Emil started dismembering her. Rigor mortis is already fully developed.”
“And Marcus?” asked Irene.
“He was probably dead a shorter period of time. Blokk guessed five hours. As you saw, the leg bent a bit at the knee when Emil picked it up. The jaws and the arms were completely stiff. Blokk said that he was going to analyze the films frame by frame. Then he can see if there is livor mortis and so on.”
Irene realized that it was way past lunchtime but she assumed that the other three didn’t feel particularly hungry either.
“These two videos explain why Isabell and Emil weren’t dismembered. Sawing off the head and the extremities was Emil’s job. He wasn’t there when Isabell was murdered. Certainly, he was there when he was murdered, but not as a mutilator,” Peter said dryly.
“He was indirectly involved in Isabell’s murder. He was the one who tipped off the murderer that I was looking for her, and he must have given him the name of Simon Steiner,” said Irene.
“Emil may have told the murderer his father’s name earlier. But the murderer and Emil must have been in contact directly after Emil spoke with Beate, after your restaurant meeting,” said Peter.
“He couldn’t have known before then that I was looking for Isabell,” Irene agreed.
“Why would he kill an insignificant little whore you were looking for?” Jonny asked.
Before Irene had a chance to answer, Hannu said, “A practical joke.”
It sounded ridiculous, but the more Irene thought about it, the less far-fetched it seemed. Was Bell’s murder a warning from a twisted brain? Or a joke?
“Emil’s accomplice has suddenly become very active. There were two years between the murders of Carmen and Marcus. Then he murders Isabell and Emil within an interval of just a few hours. And a week and half later, Tom is stabbed!” she exclaimed.
“We don’t know if Emil’s partner stabbed Tanaka. It could have been a regular burglar. But as he took the photo in the bedroom, we have to assume that the break-in is connected to everything else,” Peter observed.
“And we can probably assume that it was Emil whom Marcus meant when he spoke about his police officer. The question is, who’s the doctor?” said Irene.
She told them about Pontus Zander’s promise to keep his ears cocked at the next day’s meeting for gays in the health-care field.
“Gays in the health-care system! I’ll be damned if they’re going to look at my ass!” Jonny snorted.
They decided to eat before watching the tapes one more time. Peter wanted a solid lunch because he was planning on driving home directly afterward.
“You’re not going to stay here in Göteborg for one night?” Irene asked.
“No. We’re short-staffed. Jens has had to take over as superintendent for Beate. She’ll be on sick leave a few more weeks.”
He wouldn’t let himself be persuaded. Finally, Irene gave up. She wanted him to leave with a good impression of Göteborg’s pub life so she decided that they would eat at Glady’s Corner. She lifted
the phone receiver to reserve a table. If you’re married to the master chef, it should be possible to arrange things on short notice.
THEY WERE given a table but had to wait until two o’clock. Jonny excused himself by saying that he had work piled up, but Irene had the suspicion that it was mostly out of fear that he would have to pay for himself. Glady’s was one of Göteborg’s best pubs, with a star in Guide Michelin, but not the cheapest one.
Irene quickly realized that the three police officers weren’t really dressed for the establishment. Peter might be able to pass as business casual. But since it was after the lunch rush and the dinner guests hadn’t started streaming in yet, there shouldn’t be a problem. The headwaiter was among the snootiest Irene had ever come across; they had never gotten on well. Not that they had that much to do with each other, but sometimes she couldn’t avoid needing to speak with her husband. If the headwaiter happened to be the one who answered the phone, an icy chill soon floated over the wires. Irene suspected that she wasn’t chic enough to be the wife of the golden pub’s master chef, in his estimation.
Now he met them at the door. He wore a black suit and a white shirt, and bowed stiffly to them. Of course, he pretended not to recognize Irene. Surrounded by the scent of his exclusive perfumed aftershave, he showed them to a table by the far wall in one of the more concealed alcoves. With her biggest smile, Irene said, “No thanks. We would like to sit at one of the empty window tables.”
He opened his mouth to respond but when their eyes met he closed it again with a snap. Without a word, he led them toward one of the window tables. In order not to admit complete defeat, he seated them at a table by the side of the window rather than in the middle. Irene decided to let it go.
The business lunch consisted of grilled cod cooked in a wok, with white wine sauce. All three chose the same dish, not least because of the price. For an additional one hundred and thirty SEK, they could have gotten an appetizer and dessert as well, but none of them was that hungry. The images from the video were all too fresh in their minds.
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