by Sten, Viveca
CHAPTER 32
Who would benefit from Oscar Juliander’s death?
The question had tumbled around in Thomas’s dreams during the night, and he woke up soaked in sweat. The sleeping loft in his Harö summerhouse felt suffocating, although it was barely eight o’clock in the morning.
He threw off the damp sheet and climbed down the ladder into the open kitchen, living room, and dining area below.
The house had once been an old barn, but Thomas and Pernilla had transformed it into a modern, winterized second home. For years the project swallowed up all their money and free time. They’d painted and hammered their way through most of it themselves. They’d used contractors only for the changes requiring skilled expertise, like plumbing and wiring. Thomas had even laid the tiles in the kitchen—not an easy task.
These days, Thomas spent as much free time as he could on the island, especially after Pernilla took the apartment in the city after the separation. His two-room apartment in Gustavsberg was nothing to boast about, and he could never summon the energy to improve it. He wasn’t there often anyway. For the past year, Carina had demanded his attention, and they usually met at her place. But Thomas had never brought her to the house on Harö, where he and Pernilla had been so happy before they’d lost Emily.
Thomas took a towel from the bathroom and opened the front door. The house sat about ten yards from the water with a narrow path to the dock. Thomas walked to the edge of the dock and dived in. The cold water shocked and refreshed him. Moments like this reminded him why the Finns were always leaping from their saunas into snow banks. The blood circulated faster and the brain cleared. Exactly what he needed.
He climbed back onto the dock, rubbed himself all over with sea salt soap, and then jumped back in.
Nothing like a summer morning dip out in the archipelago.
A bit of seaweed had gotten between his toes, and he rubbed it off against the dock. Then he dried himself with the towel and walked back inside.
After getting dressed, he decided to swing past Sandhamn for some fresh bread at the well-known bakery. Sailors’ sweet rolls were famous all over the archipelago. He might also see Nora and his godson if they were home.
His phone beeped. A text from Margit wondering about yesterday’s interview.
The man in Saltsjö-Duvnäs had been surprised but had not hesitated to explain about his weapons: two rifles, one of which was a Marlin. The Marlin was broken, however, and he’d sent it in for repairs. He showed Thomas the receipt and then brought Thomas to his locked gun cabinet in the basement where the guns usually were kept. He seemed like a responsible person.
The weekend Juliander was shot, the man and his wife were in the south of Sweden visiting his sister and brother-in-law. He gave Thomas their number so he could check the alibi.
Only when the man began to question why Thomas was checking up on him did things get awkward.
“You should talk to your wife about that,” he said. “She and Juliander were well acquainted a few years back.”
Before the man could ask anything else, Thomas left. He did not want to participate in the discussion that was bound to follow.
By then, it was so late he had a good excuse to not see Carina that night.
Carina.
He’d have to do something about this whole situation, but not right now.
He texted a reply to Margit and then texted Carina. In a lame attempt to make her happy, he suggested they catch a movie Sunday evening. Then he pushed all thoughts of her to the back of his mind.
As he sat in the sunshine by the window with a cup of coffee in hand, his thoughts returned to the question that had troubled his dreams.
Who would benefit from Oscar Juliander’s death?
Perhaps the answer lay in Juliander’s profession. Perhaps he’d stumbled across something shady in a bankruptcy case. Thomas decided to speak with Nora when he got to Sandhamn. After all, she was a lawyer with one of the major banks. She knew about these things.
“Ask his secretary,” Nora said. She took a big bite of the roll Thomas had brought from the Sandhamn bakery.
They sat on the dock enjoying the fine day. A line of light-gray clouds hung over the treetops of Eknö Sound, closer to the mainland, indicating bad weather on its way. But for now, the sun was shining.
The boys had eaten their breakfast rolls quickly and were busy jumping off the dock, their favorite activity on a day like this. Henrik was on his way into the city. He’d been on call, and there was an emergency at the hospital.
Thomas pictured the pale, unhappy face of Eva Timell. She’d been a great help to the investigation. He crumpled up the sticky paper from his roll and set it on the tray.
“Wouldn’t you like a job as a police investigator?” he asked. “You always have good ideas. And you’d get away from that boss you’re always complaining about.”
Nora gave him a resentful look.
“I don’t always complain! But he really is an idiot. Why they let him get away with the stunts he pulls is beyond me.”
Simon ran toward them, dripping water everywhere. In one hand, he carried a full bucket. His intentions were clear.
Just before he reached Thomas, Simon took the bucket in both hands. But before he could lift it, Thomas picked him up and turned him upside down.
“You weren’t really planning to dump a bucket of water over a cop, were you?” he said. He used a stern voice and frowned.
Simon wasn’t the least bit afraid.
“Put me down!” he yelled. Then he begged Nora for help.
“Oh, no!” Nora said. “Get out of this one on your own! You tried to soak your godfather. You have only yourself to blame!”
Thomas lugged Simon to the edge of the dock, swung him back and forth, and threw him into the water.
Adam laughed so hard he almost fell in himself. Thomas walked toward him with open arms. Adam, still laughing, leaped into the water before Thomas could grab hold of him.
“You can’t get us! You can’t get us!” the boys called out.
Thomas pretended to reach for them again before walking back to Nora.
Nora looked at him and shook her head.
“How did you become so good with children, Thomas Andreasson?” she asked. “How did that happen?”
Thomas shrugged, an embarrassed smile on his face. “Please don’t tell anybody.”
He reached for his coffee cup and took the last sip.
“Do you have time to look over Signe’s house with me before you go back?” asked Nora.
The afternoon sun lit up Nora’s white kitchen as she loaded the dishwasher. Thomas was heading back to Harö and then taking the ferry to the city.
“Sure,” Thomas said. “I’m not in a rush.”
“Boys,” Nora said. “You’ll be on your own for a few minutes. I just want to show Thomas something.”
They walked to the Brand house together, and Nora unlocked the front door to let them in. The house smelled stuffy. Abandoned.
Nora led them to the veranda. In an attempt to recreate the former atmosphere, she’d set out a few Mårbacka geraniums, but they’d wilted in the heat, making the space look even more forlorn.
“The real-estate agent called again and wants to bring that family from Switzerland here. They are positive they want to buy the house, he says.”
Nora sank into one of the wicker chairs and looked out to sea. The clouds had come closer, and they would soon swallow up the sun. She stroked the knitted throw lying over the arm. It still held some dark strands of dog hair from Signe’s Labrador.
“I don’t know what to do. Henrik is completely obsessed with the idea of selling. The only thing he cares about is how much money we’re going to get. I hardly even recognize him.”
“Is it really that bad?”
“He wants us to buy some huge place in Saltsjöbaden. Something that fits his parents’ ideals.”
She sighed and leaned back in the chair.
Thoma
s didn’t know what to say. He could understand why Henrik would be eager to unload Signe’s house for a better home for his family. The Brand house was certainly a fine old merchant house, but it needed a great deal of work.
At the same time, he understood Nora’s dilemma. He’d also known Signe and understood why she’d made Nora her heir.
“Wouldn’t you be happier with something larger in Saltsjöbaden rather than two houses out here?” He chose his words carefully.
Nora’s eyes flared with anger.
“Whose side are you on?” she asked.
Thomas tried again.
“Nora, look at the whole situation. Who is going to take care of this huge place? You already have a nice summerhouse here in Sandhamn. You work full-time, and Henrik’s a doctor. Wouldn’t it be better to invest in a permanent home instead?”
Nora bit her lip but slowly nodded. She got up from the chair and stood by the window. Now the whole sky had clouded over, and small white caps were scudding along the gray waves.
“If it was yours, what would you do?” she asked.
“I can’t tell you that,” Thomas replied. “It’s your decision.” He hesitated for a minute. “But I know this. Don’t let anyone force you into something you’ll regret one day.”
Nora nodded again.
Then he said, “Why don’t you rent it out for a while? You don’t have to make a decision right this minute. Take your time.”
Rent it out? Why hadn’t she thought of that?
Every time Henrik had badgered her to sell, she’d gotten a knot in her stomach. She wasn’t ready, that much was clear. Now she felt much better.
“Let’s go,” she said. “You should head back before the weather gets worse. The wind is really picking up.”
MONDAY, THE SECOND WEEK
CHAPTER 33
Going to the movies hadn’t been his best idea, Thomas thought as he made himself a cup of tea in the police station kitchen.
Once they’d arrived at the theater, he and Carina couldn’t agree on what movie to watch. Thomas wanted to see something uncomplicated, something that didn’t engage his brain. Carina, on the other hand, wanted to see a romantic drama with a famous American actress Thomas couldn’t stand.
By the time he finally gave up the argument, Carina was in a bad mood and there weren’t any good seats left. They had to sit in the back of the theater. Carina didn’t warm up until the movie was about half-done. Her hand sought out his, and she began to give him small kisses on the cheek.
Thomas felt silly, like a teenager necking at the movies. He shifted away a few times, and the atmosphere between them chilled again. After the movie, she said she wanted to go home. Thomas understood how he’d messed things up.
Now he walked to Margit’s office and sat in her visitor’s chair with a heavy sigh. She continued working on her computer for a few minutes before she hit “Save” and looked up.
“You look like something the cat dragged in,” she said.
Thomas dismissed her comment with a wave.
“A fight with Carina?” Margit asked. She closed a folder on her desk and set it on the bookshelf.
Thomas looked at her, surprised.
“What does Carina have to do with it?”
Margit looked at him as if he were dim.
“First Carina comes to work looking overcast, and then you come in twenty minutes later looking even worse. Did you see yourself in the mirror this morning?”
Thomas agreed that she had a point. He was tired and worn out, and it showed. But he still didn’t want any connection with Carina at work.
“What Carina does on her own time is her business,” he said.
“Cut it out, Thomas.” Margit sounded impatient. “The whole station knows you two have been dating for a while.”
“Is it that obvious?”
“Our job is to investigate and draw conclusions from the evidence. Did you think we’d all gone blind or something?”
“Of course not.”
“Persson is probably the only one who’s clueless. Without doubt because he doesn’t want to know.”
Margit gave Thomas a stern look, but then she smiled.
“Isn’t she a bit young for you?”
Thomas hung his head. That was the problem in a nutshell.
“I thought I’d feel a little younger when I was with her,” he admitted. “Instead, I feel old, worn out.”
“Then perhaps it’s time you did something about it,” Margit said. She sounded like a schoolteacher.
She picked up a piece of paper that had escaped her wastebasket. Then she met his eyes.
“She is very much in love with you. Anyone can see that,” she said. “And I don’t want her to get hurt.”
Thomas agreed. He promised himself he’d deal with Carina as soon as the investigation ended.
“By the way, I talked to Sylvia Juliander again, this time about her husband’s drug use,” Margit said.
“Did she know about it?”
“Not one bit. She was shocked. Told me there had to be some mistake.”
“Another unpleasant surprise for her.”
“She’s getting a lot of unhappy information about her husband after his death,” Margit said. “First, all his mistresses. And now the drugs.”
“She must have had some idea . . .”
“Perhaps. But that’s not the same thing as knowing it for sure. Not to mention reading it in the headlines. I don’t envy her one bit.”
Thomas got up.
“See you at the meeting in five.”
“Carina has located the sender of the e-mail Eva Timell forwarded to us,” Persson began.
Thomas could see a hint of fatherly pride in Persson’s eyes.
“The message came from an accountant who’d performed some bookkeeping work for one of Juliander’s bankruptcies,” Carina added.
“Why was his address so strange?” asked Thomas.
Carina gave him a cold look. “The man was in the country without access to his work account, so he used his teenage daughter’s Hotmail address.”
“Why such a hurry?” asked Kalle. “He seemed desperate.”
“He needed payment before the end of the fiscal year,” Carina said. “They wanted to finish up by Midsummer, but Juliander had forgotten to pay.”
“He had other things on his mind, I guess, like his upcoming race,” Margit said.
“Perhaps. The accounting firm’s financial department had phoned to tell this guy to contact the client immediately to get payment. So he sent the message.”
“And Eva Timell interpreted it all wrong,” Margit said.
“A misunderstanding,” Carina added.
“How did you figure all this out?”
“I talked to the accountant. And then I called the company’s financial department to be sure. That’s it.”
“That’s it for that line of investigation, too,” Thomas stated. “Anything else?” Thomas looked at Carina.
She refused to look back. Instead she held up a bundle of paper.
“I’ve gone through much of his financial information,” she said.
“Your conclusions?” asked Persson.
“I know why he stayed married.”
“Let’s hear it,” Margit said.
“The Julianders had no prenuptial agreement.”
“Well, well, well,” Margit said.
“The houses, the cars, even the boats—everything belonged to both of them.”
“So if he wanted a divorce, half of everything would go to her,” Margit said. “That would be worth millions.”
“Was there a great deal of debt?” asked Thomas.
“The houses carry high mortgages, but he was able to make the payments, interest included,” Carina said. “He earned a high salary.”
“Any insurance?” asked Margit.
“One life insurance policy. And a great deal of retirement savings. His widow and children will certainly not starve.”
&
nbsp; “His wife could still have killed him for the money,” Kalle said. “She might have tired of all his women and decided to put a stop to the spending.”
Carina looked doubtful.
“All the partners in the firm had identical pensions,” she continued. “I checked.”
“No life insurance policies taken out recently?” asked Margit.
“No, he’s had the same one for years—all through the law firm.”
“She could have simply asked for a divorce,” Margit stated. “She would certainly have been awarded a huge amount of money.”
“There’s only one thing that looks odd,” Carina said.
“What’s that?” asked Persson.
“I can’t figure out where he got the money for the Emerald Gin.”
“His boat?” asked Margit.
“It was brand new, right?”
“Yes,” Margit said.
“He didn’t take out a loan, and it must have cost a great deal. Where did the money come from?”
“He already had a racing sailboat,” Thomas said. “He probably sold it.”
“For twelve million kronor?” Carina replied.
CHAPTER 34
“Is Margit in?” Thomas called out as soon as he opened the door to the department floor. He wore his leather jacket since the weather had shifted again. Outside, rain fell steadily. According to the weather report, it would clear up by evening.
“Margit!” he yelled. “Come here for a minute!”
Margit stuck her head out of a doorway. Her short hair was more wild than usual.
“What’s going on?” she asked. “Why are you yelling?” She yawned as she walked to the coffee machine for another cup of plain black coffee.
“Check this out,” Thomas said and ripped open a yellow padded envelope bearing the logo of Swedish state television. He pulled out a DVD and held it up.
“What’s that?”
“The video taken by the TV crew the day Juliander was killed. Kalle’s been bugging them for days to get it, but every time he called, they said they’d forgotten to mail it. So I picked it up myself. Let’s have a look.”
They headed for one of the conference rooms equipped with a TV screen and DVD player. Thomas put in the disc and found the remote before he yelled for the others. Kalle was still at lunch, but Erik and Carina came at once.
