Suddenly, two cars appeared out of nowhere onto the road ahead. The Land Rover’s headlights disappeared and the jeep shot into the distance.
“Shit, fucking bastards!” swore Sanna, slapping the steering wheel in frustration.
BY HALF PAST THREE on Friday morning Javier and Thorén had visited a number of nightclubs. Thankfully, the evening hadn’t been a complete failure. They had discovered that the man from Vasastan frequented gay clubs. However, it remained to be seen whether Konrad Berg also shared this predilection.
The detective inspectors entered Oxidous – a dimly lit nightclub in Östermalm with minimalist décor. They were tired and fed up. The sound was deafening and the air heavy with the stale odour of alcohol, perfume and body sweat.
They had interviewed dozens of bouncers and bar staff at several nightclubs but so far nobody had recognized the man from Ingarö.
“Do you think we’ll have any luck here?” asked Thorén, suppressing a yawn.
“You never know, let’s hope so. Anyway, whatever happens, this is definitely the last place we visit tonight.”
Thorén glanced at him sceptically. Javier had expressed interest in visiting a couple of other clubs.
They approached the bar and grabbed the attention of a bartender. After displaying their identification badges and explaining the purpose of their visit Thorén dug out a photograph from her handbag and placed it onto the bar counter.
“Have you ever seen this man?”
The barman studied the photograph.
“That’s Konrad Berg! He’s a regular here… Although, come to think of it, I haven’t seen him for a while.”
Thorén and Javier’s mood brightened and they began asking the standard questions.
“When did you last see him?”
“Hard to say, two, three months ago maybe,” he replied scratching his neck. “It could be longer even.”
“Was he alone?” asked Thorén as if they had pre-agreed to take it in turns to ask questions.
“Sometimes he was with a group. Once he was with a guy from Norrland – a loud, obnoxious type who aggravated the other guests.”
“A man from Norrland?” repeated Javier. “Do you know his name?”
The barman shrugged his shoulders. “They called him Oxen. He was usually with two other guys but I don’t remember much about them.”
Thorén placed photographs of Thom Mark and Dexter Fleming onto the counter. “Were these the guys?”
The barman picked up the photos. “No, I don’t recognize them.”
Javier glared at the bartender in frustration.
“What about the others in the group? Anything about them that stood out?”
“Not really, the man from Norrland was tall and well-built. Nothing really stood out about the other two except that one was Finnish. He was around one hundred and seventy centimetres tall and the other guy was probably the same height as the man from Norrland but not as heavy set.”
“Can you tell us more about Konrad Berg?”
“Well…He always left with a woman. Different ones. Even if he was with his mates.”
“Did you recognize any of them?”
“The bimbos?”
Javier clenched his lips and quietly agreed.
“No. Women hardly ever bother to talk to us,” replied the barman as he dried a glass and placed it on the shelf under the counter.
“Would you be able to identify any of them? What did they look like?”
He picked up another glass and examined it under the light.
“Hmm. I remember the pretty ones of course. Berg seemed to have a weakness for blondes…”
Javier suppressed a yawn.
“Fix us a couple of non-alcoholic drinks,” said Thorén pulling out her VISA card.
“Anything in particular?”
“Doesn’t matter.”
The bartender took out a selection of bottles and mixed three drinks. He passed two drinks to them and kept one for himself. He refused to accept payment.
The three of them drank in silence.
“Oh yeah, by the way, the last time I saw Berg he was with a real looker. A class act. You hardly ever see that type in here.”
“Did they arrive together?”
“No, she came a few minutes after him. I remember because loads of guys turned around to stare at her.”
“Was she also blonde?”
The bartender gave a broad, infectious smile.
“She made a bee line for him,” he replied with a chuckle. “He was talking to another woman at the time and she just stood right between them. I was really curious to see how his female companion would react, but I guess she got scared off. Her rival was much taller and looked pretty fit.
Javier raised his eyebrows. “Anything else?”
“I don’t know. There was something odd about her. She could have been a cross-dresser but on the other hand she was very feminine.”
Thorén looked at him keenly. “Do you think you would be able to describe her in detail to one of our facial composite artists?”
The bartender’s expression hardened.
“What’s going on?”
“There’s no need to worry, we just want to know who he hangs out with. He’s part of an ongoing investigation and we need to contact anyone who knew him. Nothing more than that.”
“I don’t want to be involved in any investigation.”
“It’s no big deal. We would just ask you to describe in more detail anything you remember about the woman you saw, perhaps look at some photos.”
“What’s your name?” asked Javier, cursing himself over the fact that they hadn’t managed to produce a facial composite yet. It had been impossible to arrange a meeting. All three experts were always fully booked weeks in advance and Javier had been politely requested to put his name on the waiting list. He couldn’t understand why the police authorities didn’t train more officers in this method.
The bartender scratched his ear.
“Milton Shaw,” he replied grudgingly.
CHAPTER 24
The Woman
JAVIER SLAMMED DOWN THE RECEIVER. After trying to call Eleonor Baker and Nina Jay a number of times and leaving several messages for them, his patience had finally run out. He pondered his next move. Although he had decided to call it a day and go home, he was also keen to find out more about the women Konrad Berg hung out with.
He unlocked his desk drawer and took out his laptop. While waiting for it to start he flicked absentmindedly through his notes. As soon as the computer was up and running he removed a USB stick from a plastic bag and inserted it into the computer, then clicked on a file containing photographs.
After a few clicks the image of a rather nondescript woman appeared on the screen. She had short black hair that seemed incongruous with her clear blue eyes. This was Eleonor Baker. Javier studied the photograph. She was curled up on a sofa with her feet up, caressing her hair in a coquettish manner. She was wearing a black negligee and he estimated that she was approximately a hundred and seventy centimetres tall
He scrolled down and found a document listing details about Eleonor Baker’s wealthy husband, Arthur Baker. As well as an apartment on Strandvägen the couple owned a property in Spain and chalets in Davos and Åre.
He heard voices as Sanna and Kalle approached. They paused outside the door.
“Crikey!” said Sanna. “I thought you left ages ago.”
“Ha ha. Nope, still here,” replied Javier.
“Anything new?” she asked, entering the room.
Kalle followed her in.
“Check out this photo. It’s Eleonor Baker’s husband, but he’s with another woman, someone he frequently socialized with.”
“So adultery runs in the family,” said Kalle.
Javier nodded. “Eleonor Baker is often abroad so it’s impossible to arrange a meeting. What’s strange is the fact that Berg seems more interested in the woman’s husband. Look here… he’s prepared a blow-by-blow account
of the man’s financial dealings.”
Kalle walked around the table and stood beside Javier. He clicked on the folder. “Plenty of cash,” he said smiling. “If you’re going to engage in extortion you’d better be damn sure that there’s money to be had.”
“Berg was an experienced extortionist,” added Javier.
“What about Nina Jay then?” asked Sanna, plonking herself down on the nearest chair.
Javier shrugged and threw his hands in the air. “Let’s see what happens. Apparently she’s a real flirt. After a lot of hemming and hawing she finally agreed to a meeting tomorrow.”
He glanced at the time. “It’s almost nine o’clock… I’m hungry, what about you?”
“I wouldn’t mind eating something – but not pizza again,” answered Sanna.
They grabbed their outdoor clothes and headed towards the lift.
“Let’s go to Tapas Pappas round the corner,” suggested Javier.
SHE STARED INTO THE DISTANCE, deep in thought. On her lap lay a report published by the Uppsala University Knowledge Bank.
Allan Jonsson’s home situation worried Thorén. Although she was generally well informed on issues concerning domestic violence against women, when it came to male victims she realised she didn’t know much.
Thorén and her colleagues predominantly dealt with domestic violence against women. It was an everyday reality. Violence against men tended to occur mainly within homosexual relationships, or at least those were the types of investigations that ended up on their plate.
The report from Uppsala University analysed the differences between violence against women and men. Women were more likely to be the victims of serious physical assaults whereas men were more commonly the victims of psychological aggression, such as verbal abuse, derision, bullying and threats. However, it was clear that Allan’s case involved both physical and psychological violence.
Cecile Thorén found it difficult to comprehend how Allan Jonsson had ended up in this situation. She summed up what she knew about her colleague. Basically, Allan was a fairly reclusive type who was deeply affected by the situation at home. Although he tried hard to live up to his tough guy image she could see that, deep down, he was an extremely sensitive person.
She picked up the report and began to read.
‘Nordic research reveals that men tend to only report repetitive and serious domestic violence. This finding is consistent with Swedish studies, which show that the decision to report a crime depends on the relationship of the victim to the attacker and the degree of violence. These two factors interact with one another in such a way that the more serious the domestic violence, the more likely it will be reported.
Taboos and fear of not being listened to or believed mean that many male victims fail to report abuse. According to statistics from The Crime Prevention Agency, men who have been victims of domestic violence have considerably less faith in the justice system compared to women with similar experiences or men who have been the victims of other violent attacks. Male victims of domestic violence also feel that they receive less favourable treatment by the police.’
Thorén reasoned that Allan was probably afraid of reprisals if he reported his wife. She had no idea how to help him. Allan had made it clear that she mustn’t tell anyone.
SANNA SAT DRINKING a chai latté at an outdoor café on Järntorget in Gamla Stan. She glanced at the time on her iPhone and wondered why Andrea hadn’t shown up yet. She was usually the first to arrive. While waiting, Sanna flicked through the images on her iPhone camera and smiled to herself. They had taken a number of selfies together. She hugged the hot drink with both hands, reflecting on how her life had changed since meeting the young woman. Slowly but surely, Sanna had come to the realization that without Andrea in her life she would be very lonely. She glanced at the clock again – it was half an hour later than the agreed appointment.
Lately, Sanna had been forced to prioritize Kalle. He needed her now. Mia’s health was deteriorating and consequently her meetings with Andrea had become more and more sporadic. It was now four weeks since they had last seen each other.
Sanna dialled Andrea’s number. After a couple of ring signals she was connected to voice mail.
“Hi, Andrea. This is Sanna, where are you? Have you forgotten we’re supposed to meet today?”
She waited another ten minutes and then decided to leave. How strange, she thought. Andrea had been looking forward to their meeting. Apparently, she had lots to tell her about the trials she had been attending recently.
CHAPTER 25
Return to the crime scene
SANNA NEEDED TO CLEAR HER HEAD. As she strolled along Norr Mälarstrand she discovered she wasn’t the only one enjoying the fresh air. An elderly man stood feeding the birds and a group of children stood nearby, watching with fascination as the birds scuffled with each other to peck at the breadcrumbs.
Sanna’s phone rang.
“I’m going to Ingarö,” said Kalle. “There’s something I want to check out.”
“Funny, I was thinking about going there too. I’ll come with you. I want to make sure we haven’t missed anything. Meet you outside the parking garage?”
“Sure.”
Kalle pulled up outside the police station. Sanna hurried over to his car, climbed into the front seat and just managed to strap herself in before he drove off.
Thirty minutes later, after a brief pause at a sausage stand to buy hot dogs, they arrived at the crime scene.
“What are you hoping to find?” asked Sanna.
“Don’t know. Don’t laugh, but I’ve got a gut feeling…”
“That’s not like you.”
“I know, but since Mia got ill I’ve had a number of strange premonitions that later turn out to be accurate.”
“Okay…”
“What about you? What are you hoping to find?”
“No gut feeling, but I want to check what’s in the attic.”
“The attic? There isn’t one.”
“Oh yes, there is. All summer cottages have an attic. There’s usually an entrance outside.”
She made her way to the back of the house in search of a ladder.
“Here!” said Kalle, appearing with one. “I’ll go up and take a look.”
Sanna nodded.
Kalle clambered up and opened the hatch.
“Christ!” he exclaimed. “Just a pile of wood and some old banana boxes.” He brushed off a layer of spiders’ webs and dust.
“Bring down the boxes. We’ll check what’s inside,” shouted Sanna.
“Sure. I’ll take some photos first though.”
There were a total of five banana boxes. Kalle pulled them out one by one and passed them down to Sanna.
On his way down the ladder he erupted into a sneezing fit.
“Bless you!” said Sanna with a wide grin.
“My lungs must be full of dust.”
“Looks like it,” she laughed.
“It’s not funny!” he replied, sneezing again.
Kalle returned to the car and fetched a broom from the trunk. “Let’s brush off the boxes before putting them into the car.”
“This looks interesting,” said Sanna.
Kalle moved closer. “Well, well, fancy that. Aron Alvik and Konrad Berg at a shooting range. Who’s the third man?”
“No idea.”
“Let’s see if Alvik is willing to talk.” said Sanna, as she helped Kalle with the boxes. “The problem is that he denies everything and says he doesn’t know why Berg was in his cottage. But I’m convinced he’s hiding something. It’ll be interesting to see what else is in here.”
INSIDE THE ELEGANT OFFICE the atmosphere was cheerless. A man in his sixties, seated in an English style leather armchair, was staring at Javier Mendez who was sitting across from him. Javier had received a summons from the powers that be and in brief but authoritative terms ordered to pay a visit to Eleonor Baker’s lawyer. Instead of an explanation for why Eleonor Baker h
ad met Konrad Berg, the police were handed an order prohibiting them from contacting her. If Javier Mendez or any other police officer wanted to know more about Eleonor Baker they would have to talk to her lawyer first.
CHAPTER 26
Interview with Nina Jay
AFTER A SERIES OF TENSE phone conversations they finally agreed to meet at Kulturhuset. Nina Jay had refused to go to the police station and meeting at a café or similar place was inappropriate.
Javier found a secluded spot outside the library on the second floor where they could talk in private. He placed a blue folder and recording device onto the table.
He opened the folder and flipped through the pages. He felt well prepared. He knew all there was to know about Nina Jay, or at least he thought so.
Every few seconds he looked up and glanced over at the escalator.
Javier had waited impatiently for this day. He checked the time again. It was twelve minutes past ten. She was late.
At that moment he spotted a woman hurrying towards him. She moved as if she owned the world. He got up to greet her. She was approximately 1.80 metres, tall and slim and athletic looking.
She stretched out her hand. “Nina Jay,” she said, sitting down opposite him.
“Javier Mendez,” he replied.
The woman appeared disinterested.
“I don’t have much time, so let’s get this over with quickly,” she said stiffly.
Javier nodded slowly. “I’ll do my best.” He felt surprisingly awkward, taken aback by her behaviour. He observed her for a moment. She had green eyes and light brown eyelashes and eyebrows. Her reddish brown hair was swept back in a tousled ponytail, which was very becoming, and she wore long, heavy earrings.
Javier turned on the recorder and stated Nina Jay’s name, date of birth and other official information.
“Am I being accused of anything?” she interrupted.
“No. However, we do know about the blackmail.”
“What the hell are you talking about? Get to the point.”
“I will, if you’ll just allow me to finish…” he replied, forcing a smile.
Nina Jay sighed and crossed her arms and legs.
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