Missing in Malmö: The third Inspector Anita Sundström mystery (Inspector Anita Sundström mysteries)

by MacLeod, Torquil

  ‘Could be quite cut-throat. Some estates could be very lucrative.’

  ‘It may sound stupid, but could all this be to do with business rivalry?’

  ‘No,’ was the emphatic answer. ‘That was the whole point about this case. It had been investigated by a big London outfit. But they drew a blank and dropped it. It was only then that Graeme took it up. Not because it was worth a lot. More due to the fact that it was so local. We’re only half an hour from Carlisle. It was also a challenge.’

  ‘A challenge?’

  ‘Yes, because he wanted to succeed where a whole team of posh London researchers had failed. That was typical Graeme. Prove people wrong. But Yorkshiremen are like that.’

  While Jennifer Todd went to the bathroom, Anita boiled up a pan to make them another cup of tea. By the time she came back into the living room, Jennifer had returned. Her face was flushed, and Anita suspected that she’d been crying again. She was trying to be sympathetic, but she knew she had to try and discover everything that this woman knew about the case that her husband had been working on. There might be some seemingly insignificant detail that she hadn’t mentioned before because it had slipped her mind. Anita had to cajole her memory; shake free some forgotten snippet.

  ‘Jennifer, can you take me through everything you can remember about the Doris Little investigation, however trivial it might seem.’

  ‘That Penrith inspector asked me the same. Ash, I think his name was. Called in last night.’

  That sounded encouraging. Detective Sergeant Ash had got straight onto the case. She would phone him later about the break-in.

  ‘Doris Little?’

  ‘Yes. It must have been about six months ago that Graeme first mentioned her name. She lived near Dixon’s chimney in Carlisle.’ Anita looked nonplussed. ‘It’s a well-known landmark in the city. At first, it appeared that she owned her own house. That’s usually what heir hunters look for first. It means a financial asset, and that’s what most estates are made up of. Not many people leave thousands in the bank. The house would have attracted the London firm in the first place, otherwise it wouldn’t have been worth their while. I remember she was eighty because that was the age my own mother died at. Doris had lived in a small terraced house. It was worth about sixty to seventy thousand pounds. Not huge, but a percentage of that would be worth the effort. I know Graeme did his usual research – birth, marriage and death certificates, and censuses. She never actually married. That makes it more difficult. Sometimes you have to go back a hundred years to trace a modern relative.’

  ‘Are these the sort of things he would have had in a hard file?’

  ‘Yes, normally, that’s where he would put them. He always had back-up photocopies too. Very thorough.’

  ‘There’s not much else to say. I wasn’t involved after he’d made his initial enquiries. He didn’t seem to be having any luck with finding blood relatives, and ran into the same barriers that the London firm must have come across. The weird thing is that I thought he’d dropped the case, because it turned out that Doris Little had sold her house to a building society in the 1990s a few years before her death. It was some equity release scheme.’

  ‘What’s that?’

  ‘They advertise these schemes in Britain a lot. People who own their homes tend to be property rich, but often cash poor. So, what they do is sell their home to a bank or building society or property company while still living in the house. They end up with plenty of disposable income and when they die the property reverts to the building society. It’s particularly appealing to retired people because it means they’ve money to enjoy their final years. Doris Little was one such. I’ve no idea what happened to the money. I do remember that Graeme was pretty downhearted when he discovered this, because there wasn’t much left in her building society account. As I say, I thought that was the end of it.’

  ‘But you told me he was secretive about it.’

  ‘He was. It must have been about a month later that he was obviously getting quite energized about something. He wouldn’t say what it was about, other than there had been a development in the Doris Little investigation.’

  ‘Do you remember exactly when that was?’

  ‘Late July, early August. That’s right. He went away for a couple of days.’

  ‘Where to?’

  Jennifer Todd shook her head. ‘I don’t know. He wouldn’t say. That was really the start of him keeping everything close to his chest.’

  ‘And that was unusual?’

  ‘Very. But I just let him get on with it. I was having problems at work with our department being restructured and everyone having to re-apply for their jobs. A horrible time. Dispiriting for all the staff. Morale was really low.’

  ‘And no clues as to what he was up to?’

  ‘Not really. There was this air of excitement about him, though. But he sometimes went through these enthusiastic phases. I just thought it was one of them. That’s it.’ She suddenly frowned. ‘Wait though.... He did once say it was better I didn’t know anything. It would be safer.’

  ‘Safer?’

  ‘Yes. Safer.’

  CHAPTER 20

  ‘That was the word he used to her.’

  Anita was recounting her conversation with Jennifer Todd to the team in the meeting room the next day. This time Nordlund and a very sullen Westermark were in attendance. Anita couldn’t figure out Westermark at all. He wasn’t his usual slimy, bombastic self. Quite the opposite. He hardly uttered a word. Maybe he was pissed off that Anita had such a central role in the investigation and he was only going to be a bit-part player. Anyway, she had enough on her plate without worrying about him.

  ‘So, Graeme Todd must have been aware of some sort of danger.’

  Moberg scratched his ample stomach. It was a recognizable sign of tension. ‘It still doesn’t really get us any further forward. In many ways we’ve gone backwards because this old lady doesn’t seem to have had much money. Did she have any connections with Sweden?’

  ‘We don’t know. I spoke to Detective Sergeant Ash this morning after I put fru Todd on the train to Kastrup. He’s been to Todd’s house and has started to make initial enquiries into the Little woman’s background, so something may emerge there. But he does think that there was a break-in at the Todds’ house in Fellbeck. He says that the burglar had a good idea how to get in without disturbing the occupant. However, nothing was taken, unless it was Doris Little’s file. And we’re not a hundred percent sure that there was a file in the house. Conceivably, Todd could have had it with him, though his wife doubts that. Ash also checked Todd’s office computer, and there was nothing about the old woman on that.’

  ‘What about this mysterious trip of Todd’s before he came over here?’ Nordlund was a man of few words but he was good at getting to the point.

  ‘His wife has no idea where he went. It certainly seems to have been the catalyst for what happened subsequently. However, we’re pretty sure that it wasn’t Sweden. Hakim’s been checking flights from Britain from early August, when Todd went away.’ She glanced at Hakim, who nodded. ‘He couldn’t find anything.’ So, it’s likely to have been somewhere in Britain. Todd’s bank details may throw something up if he made a cash withdrawal or used his credit card for some purchase. That’s another thing that Ash is looking into... and I will when I go over there tomorrow.’

  ‘Mirza,’ said Moberg. The young man looked at the chief inspector expectantly. Was he going to ask him about his part in the investigation? He wanted to prove how heavily involved he was. ‘Go and get some more coffees.’ Hakim’s face fell.

  The coffees didn’t help get them any further forward. The consensus was that they were going to have to concentrate their Swedish search in the Ystad area. That meant having to liaise with the force in Ystad without letting them muscle in on the case. Anita would have to work closely with the local British police and try and discover why Todd had come over to Sweden – and, more importantly, who he was plannin
g to meet.

  ‘One last thing,’ said Anita as the meeting was breaking up. ‘Jennifer Todd wants to know when we can release the body so it can be flown home. The British consul in Malmö is coming in soon, as he wants to make arrangements.’

  Moberg grunted. ‘The forensics people want to hold onto it for a few more days. I’m afraid the widow will have to wait.’

  While the team was filing out of the room, Anita managed to catch Nordlund’s eye. He waited until everyone else had gone.

  ‘Henrik, can I ask you a favour?’

  ‘Of course.’

  Anita started to gather up the plastic coffee cups that had been strewn around the table.

  ‘Can you keep an eye on this Greta Jansson thing?’

  ‘Your ex’s girlfriend is still missing?’

  ‘Yes. Still unofficial, as no one, including Björn, has actually reported her missing.’

  ‘But you’re worried about it?’

  ‘I thought it was a simple case of her going off to see her family, or being fed up with a job she couldn’t cope with. Then it occurred to me that she might just be escaping from Björn. He seems obsessed with her.’ Now all the coffee cups were stacked up. Anita took them to a bin in the corner of the room and dropped them in. ‘Her disappearance is too sudden. I mentioned the fully stocked fridge to you before. And it turns out she seemed to be enjoying the teaching, according to the colleague I spoke to. But as Björn points out, a man rang the school up and said she had to leave for family reasons. Both her parents are dead yet her “father” was supposedly looking for her at the time she disappeared. Even her best friend hasn’t heard from her, according to Björn. It’s starting to nag.’

  ‘Have you got a photo of her?’

  ‘I’ll drop one in to your office. I don’t want you to investigate; just keep an ear open in case she turns up. If she turns up.’

  CHAPTER 21

  ‘Oh, dear.’

  Martin Tripp, the Malmö-based businessman who had been lumbered with the role of British consul, was shaking his head. A dapper, fussy man in his late thirties, he didn’t like dealing with awkward situations. A dead British national, and a murder victim at that, was ghastly enough. But having to give up his Friday afternoon game of golf – the ritual start to his weekend – to try and sort out the removal of the body from Swedish soil was just too much.

  ‘The widow... em...’

  ‘Jennifer Todd,’ Anita helpfully supplied the missing name.

  ‘The poor woman must be desperate to get her husband back and buried as soon as possible.’

  ‘We appreciate that, but we need to carry out further investigations before we can release the body.’

  ‘Oh, dear,’ he repeated. Anita knew exactly what was going on in Tripp’s mind. Ewan had given her an amusing description of his meeting with the British consul when he had first been arrested and held in custody. As though by telepathy, he launched into his next grumble.

  ‘It’s bad enough having that awful journalist fellow in prison here. Now that was a bad business. Not good at all.’

  Anita was tempted to say something nasty back but she bit her tongue. Despite what Ewan had done, she hated anyone saying disparaging things about him. As soon as she got back from England, she would go and see him. She was feeling guilty enough for leaving him so abruptly the last time. He’d be interested in her visit to the north, though she wouldn’t be going near Newcastle or Durham on this occasion.

  ‘Why Malmö?’ Tripp whined. ‘Couldn’t they have done this sort of thing in Stockholm?’ Then a thought struck him. ‘It doesn’t do the Swedish reputation any favours if you go round killing British visitors.’

  ‘We don’t tend to do it as a habit,’ Anita snapped back. Tripp was just annoying her now. ‘Look, Mr Tripp, I’ll get someone in the department to give you a call and tell you when you can organize the body’s transportation. Then you’ll have done your duty.’

  ‘Quite so.’ He glanced at his watch. He might just have time to squeeze in nine holes before it got dark.

  Before she left the office, Anita briefed Hakim. She stressed that he must get in touch with her immediately anything came up at the Malmö end. ‘You’ll be working with Klara so, hopefully, you won’t have to put up with Westermark. But if you have any worries, speak to Henrik Nordlund.’

  She realized that she was fussing like a mother hen and not a professional colleague.

  ‘It’s fine. I’ll be OK.’

  Anita smiled. She knew he would be. He was a bright young man who could handle himself. He’d proved that during their time together. But she was naturally protective of him.

  ‘What are you doing this weekend?’ she asked, changing the subject.

  ‘Avoiding Jazmin.’

  ‘What’s your sister up to then?’

  ‘She’s just a pain at the moment. She’s always giving my parents a hard time. And me. Says it doesn’t do her credibility any good having a brother in the police. And we’re all stuck in that apartment together. At least when I get posted to Gothenburg, I’ll be able to move out.’

  Selfishly, Anita had hoped they’d have found something for him in Malmö. It hadn’t happened. She would miss him.

  ‘I expect she’s just going through a rebellious phase.’

  ‘My parents want her to get a good job or settle down and get married. She doesn’t want either. She’s now working at the supermarket round the corner.’ Anita remembered it well. The “Malmö Marksman” had picked off two of his ethnic victims there. ‘No ambition,’ said Hakim incredulously. He was very single-minded when it came to his career. ‘Where she spends her money, I have no idea. But she usually comes in late. My father stays up until she returns and demands to know where she’s been. When she refuses to answer, they argue and wake me up. Of course, it doesn’t help that my dad’s always comparing her to me. The whole thing just drives me mad.’

  Anita had a thought.

  ‘I’m flying out tomorrow. Why don’t you have a few days at my place? Or at least the weekend. Nothing’s going to happen with the case in the next couple of days. Give you a break. I’ll change the sheets and you can have my room.’

  Hakim looked unsure.

  ‘That’s very kind... but what about Lasse?’

  ‘It’ll be company for him.’ She avoided mentioning her ulterior motive. In Lasse’s present state, she was worried about leaving him alone. She had no idea how long she would be away, and it would be perfect if Hakim could keep an eye on him. Lasse would object, but she knew he liked her young colleague. And as Hakim didn’t drink, he might be a sobering influence on her son, at least while she was away. She had heard Lasse being violently sick in the bathroom at two o’clock that morning after he had staggered in from God knows where.

  ‘If Lasse doesn’t mind...’

  ‘He’ll be fine.’ Lasse would forgive her eventually.

  On her way home, Anita decided on a whim to pop into The Pickwick. With a bit of luck she might have the chance to sample a British pub when she was over in Cumbria – she was due to meet Detective Sergeant Ash at Penrith station late tomorrow afternoon. Her time in London had given her a taste for traditional hostelries, which The Pickwick pub mimicked in an over-the-top way in its layout and decor. British beers behind the bar, a dartboard on the wall, and a model of a spitfire suspended from the ceiling to remind visitors that two wars had been fought while Sweden had remained neutral. Not exactly diplomatic. The bar was full of the early Friday evening crowd. She ordered a pint of Bombardier from the Scots manager.

  ‘Any luck?’

  She turned round and saw a grinning Fraser, clutching a half-drunk pint to his chest.

  ‘No.’

  ‘Have a pew,’ Fraser said, pointing to a couple of vacant seats under the hovering spitfire.

  Anita put her pint on the table and settled down in a comfortable mock-leather chair. It was nice and warm after the distinctly chilly wind she’d battled through on the way from the polishus. A
storm was brewing.

  ‘Cheers!’ said Fraser, raising his glass. ‘I’m celebrating tonight.’

  ‘What are you celebrating?’

  Fraser pointed to the wall. She had noticed before the line of small bronze plaques. Each bore a name. She had no idea of their relevance.

  ‘Got my name up there at last. It’s taken a lot of years and a lot of pints. Shows you’re a regular. Had my name on a couple of cups at school but this beats everything. I’ve made it!’ he laughed.

  ‘Skål!’ she smiled back before taking a long sip.

  ‘Nothing about Greta, then?’

  ‘She’s completely disappeared.’ Anita put her glass back down on the beer mat. ‘It’s very strange. But maybe she has her reasons.’

  ‘I didn’t know her that well because she hadn’t been at Kungsskolan that long, but she didn’t seem to be the flaky type. Not the sort to suddenly up sticks at a moment’s notice.’ That’s the impression Anita had gained from Greta’s apartment.

  ‘Was there anyone at the school who was close to her?’

  ‘Not really.’ Then he smirked. ‘I tried to...’

  ‘A date?’

  ‘I did ask her out, but she said she wasn’t ready for anything like that just yet. She told me she was getting over some fella. Actually, got the impression he was over-possessive and she was trying to distance herself from him.’

  ‘Did she say who it was?’

  ‘No. I assumed it was someone at uni in Uppsala.’

  Anita found that very interesting. If Greta was attempting to get over someone, then it must have been Björn. It certainly didn’t sound as though they were still an item, as Björn had claimed. It might explain why she was down in Malmö, but not why she left the city so abruptly. And it wasn’t as though her escape had been triggered by Björn finding her hiding place, because he didn’t turn up in Malmö until a week after she disappeared.

  Anita changed the subject and, after she mentioned that she was flying over there the next day, they exchanged stories about Britain and British life.