“They’ll get over it,” said Karim in a voice that indicated he didn’t care. Besides, they’d soon find another supplier not connected to their drug business. “What’s important is not risking our drug operation here and in the rest of Scandinavia.” Ivar changed the subject. “Will you be staying on in Stockholm?”
“No. I’ll be heading back Saturday.”
“I assume the drugs will come in on the same schedule as before.”
“Yes. Nothing will change.”
“And our 10 percent discount will continue.”
“That was our agreement and we’ll stick to it. Just as we expect you will.”
“Of course.” But Ivar had other plans.
59
GRUNDSTRÖM INTERVIEW
Friday, February 10, 10 a.m. Advokat Birghir Edgren’s face wore an expression of amazement. With eyebrows raised over watery blue eyes and partly open mouth, he looked from Ekman to Rystrom. They were seated in an interview room across the table from him and his client, Håkan Grundström.
“Gentlemen,” he said in his polished, aristocratic voice, “you can’t be serious. Herr Grundström, a murderer? It’s the most bizarre accusation I’ve ever heard in forty years of practicing law.”
“It’s not an accusation, Herr Edgren,” said Ekman. “We’re just conducting a murder investigation. And we’d simply like to know what Herr Grundström was doing on the evening of Wednesday, February 1, when Fredrik Haake was killed.”
“You can go ahead and tell them Håkan,” Edgren said.
“I was at home.”
“The entire evening?” asked Rystrom.
“That’s my recollection.”
“Can anyone verify that?”
“I don’t think so. My wife lives apart from me and the cook had prepared dinner and left before I came home around six o’clock. Can anyone verify where you were?” Grundström asked.
“I’m not the one being questioned, Herr Grundström, because I had no reason to kill Herr Haake.”
“Are you implying that Herr Grundström did?” asked Edgren. “A fantasy.”
“Perhaps not as fantastic as you think, Counsellor,” said Ekman.
“What is your relationship with Fru Haake?” he asked Grundström.
“We’re good friends.”
“Maybe more than friends?”
Grundström hesitated and looked at Edgren before answering. Edgren nodded. “We have a personal relationship.”
“You mean you’re lovers?” asked Rystrom.
“Yes.”
“For how long?”
“The last six months or so.”
“So you were fucking your boss’s wife for half a year before he conveniently died?” Ekman asked in a harsh voice.
“There’s no need for that kind of language,” interjected Edgren.
“I’ll use whatever language I want. It’s accurate enough, isn’t it, Herr Grundström?”
Grundström had turned red and was obviously controlling himself with difficulty. He didn’t reply at first. “Look, you need to understand: Kajsa and Fredrik were leading separate lives long before she and I got involved.”
“Since Haake died, you and Fru Haake have been considering marriage?” Rystrom asked.
“She told you that I guess. Yes, we’ve talked about it. But that’s all.”
“Now that Haake’s dead she’s a very wealthy widow, isn’t she? That makes her a prime candidate for marriage and even more desirable from your point of view, doesn’t it?” Ekman asked.
“Her finances have nothing to do with my feelings for her.”
“Considering your own precarious financial condition, isn’t that pure bullshit?”
“Herr Ekman, I must ask you to treat my client with more respect. He’s been a pillar of this community his entire life. He has an impeccable reputation, which you seem intent on tarnishing without any cause.”
“This is a formal interview in a murder investigation. My concern is with finding a murderer, not protecting your client’s reputation. So you’ll have to excuse me if my questions seem too brusque for his, and your, delicate sensibilities.”
“Walther,” said Rystrom, “Herr Edgren has a point. Please forgive my colleague, gentlemen. He’s been under a lot of strain lately, as I’m sure you can understand.”
“My client’s participation in this interview is purely voluntary. If Herr Ekman doesn’t change his attitude and moderate his language, we’ll simply leave.”
“Your help in our inquiry is sincerely appreciated,” said Rystrom. “Herr Grundström, the point Walther was trying to badly make,” he looked over at Ekman and shook his head in mock dismay, “is that you’ve been experiencing some financial difficulties lately. Isn’t that right?”
Again, Grundström looked at Edgren before answering. “A company I’d invested heavily in went under unexpectedly. For the moment, it’s left me in an uncomfortable financial situation.”
“Which the merger with Nordbank would go a long way to fixing, right?” Ekman said.
“The merger is a good deal for our bank and its stockholders.”
“Haake was trying to put a stop to it and had convinced a majority of the directors. But with him suddenly dead, opposition to the merger collapses, and you stand to make a much-needed bundle. As an added attraction, the rich widow you’ve been screwing becomes available for marriage. How strangely well-timed it’s all been for you, Herr Grundström,” Ekman said.
“Now that does it,” said Edgren, getting up. “Come on, Håkan, we’re leaving.”
Grundström stood, as Ekman and Rystrom also got up.
“You can walk away now, Grundström, but we’re not finished with you yet,” said Ekman.
“We have our eye on you, and no high-powered attorney can protect you forever. We have good reason to believe you killed Haake, and you can be sure that sooner or later we’ll have the evidence to put you away. Your precious reputation won’t save you.”
“If word of these scandalous accusations should somehow leak out, Herr Ekman, we’ll know where to look and you’ll pay a heavy price. Remember that,” said Edgren as he stalked out of the room with Grundström at his heels.
“That was quite a performance, Walther,” Rystrom said.
“Long ago in school I’d toyed with the idea of acting. This was an opportunity I couldn’t pass up. You don’t think I was too rough on him, do you?”
“Not if he’s guilty. But if he’s innocent, he must be royally pissed. Kallenberg wouldn’t say you followed his request to be ‘civil.’”
“That’s too bad. Grundström will get over it if he’s not our murderer.”
“Unfortunately we didn’t learn anything new.”
“It wasn’t likely we would. We knew he’d lawyer-up when we asked him to come in. If he’s Haake’s killer, he now understands we suspect him and that his position won’t shield him.”
“Do you think he and Haake’s wife planned the murder together?”
“I don’t see it,” Ekman said. “If he did it, it was his idea. She didn’t have enough to gain to make it worth her while. Besides, I don’t think she hated Haake, she was just tired of him.
“The best we can hope for is that we’ve shaken up Grundström sufficiently for him to make a mistake. We need to set up a phone tap and surveillance.”
“Will Kallenberg agree?”
“He’d damn well better.”
60
SCOOP
Saturday, February 11, 6:30 a.m. The headline above Haeggman’s byline on the front page of that morning’s Sydsvenska Nyheter screamed Murder Spree Continues; Police Baffled.
Ekman read the story through. Haeggman implied that Chief Superintendent Ekman, heading the investigation, was incompetent and should be replaced before there were more killings. It wasn’t the first time Haeggman had said this sort of thing; they had a long-standing mutual antipathy.
He slapped the paper hard on the table. The breakfast dishes rattled and
Ingbritt looked up with a start.
“What is it, Walther?” she asked.
“That bastard Haeggman somehow discovered that Ahmed Chafik has been found murdered. We were going to let the media know after DNA tests confirmed it was him, but there’s been a leak, and he’s jumped the gun to get his damn scoop.”
“Are you sure it’s Chafik?”
“Sure enough, even though he was barely recognizable.”
“Well, at least you can stop the search now.”
“We’ve already called it off. That’s probably how Haeggman found out. And he’s putting the blame on me for not already solving that killing, and the others.”
“Is the case really going badly, Walther?”
“Which one? We’ve now got three murders and a death.”
“They’re all connected, aren’t they?”
“Maybe. Although there’s a good possibility that the Haake murder was an unrelated copycat killing. Yesterday, I grilled a suspect, a banker named Grundström, who stood to gain a great deal from Haake’s death.”
“And?”
“And if Grundström’s guilty, he now knows we’re onto him and maybe the pressure will make him slip up.”
“But if he’s innocent, Walther, how will he prove it?”
“He can’t. The only way we can be sure he’s innocent is if we catch the real murderer.”
“Forgive me for saying so, but it just doesn’t seem right.”
“It isn’t. That’s how the system works. If I could figure out a better way to get at the truth, believe me, I would.”
“You’re doing the best you can.”
“Yes, but it may not be good enough.” His lips were drawn down in a despondent line as he shook his head in frustration.
61
REVENGE
Saturday, February 11, 5:15 p.m. Karim was sitting in the octagonal room in Joumari’s house, watching as the old man poured mint tea for his two visitors. Beside Joumari, facing Karim, was Joumari’s grandnephew, Askari Harrak, a muscular man of thirty with a black stubble beard. He was wearing a too-tight tan suit with a shirt open to a gold Hand of Fatima pendant.
Harrak was famous for his violent temper and for plunging headlong into dangerous, risky schemes without caring about consequences. But nevertheless, he could be persuasive; family members tended to defer to him. Despite this, Karim nursed a hope that Harrak’s erratic behavior and bad judgment would eventually persuade Joumari to rule him out as a successor.
Karim had read Haeggman’s story on the early morning flight to Marrakech. The discovery of the body confirmed what he’d suspected all along: Ahmed had been killed to silence him.
Harrak had evidently read the same story online and brought the news to Joumari. He hadn’t stood up when Karim came into the room, just nodded.
Tea had followed the ritual exchange of greetings, cut short as usual by the old man.
“How did you find things in Stockholm?” Joumari asked.
“Everything went well. As I told you on the phone, they accepted the new arrangement, but it took some persuading. I was there watching when they loaded the last shipment of women.”
“How much of a discount on the drugs were you able to negotiate?”
“They wanted 20 percent, but I got that down to 10.”
“Five would have been better,” Harrak said.
Joumari cast him an irritated glance. “Yes, but Karim did well. I am satisfied.”
“But we cannot accept what they did to Ahmed,” Harrak said.
“No one accepts that, Nephew. I have been waiting for the right moment.”
“Now that we know he’s dead, murdered, the moment has come. We must act.”
“I will decide when we will do that,” Joumari said sharply.
“I don’t speak for just myself. When we learned of Ahmed’s murdered body being discovered, the family decided to meet this afternoon. It was agreed that we must avenge Ahmed’s death or lose honor. The entire world now knows he was murdered. We have to take revenge. I need hardly tell you that, Uncle.” Joumari had a well-earned reputation for ferocious acts of vengeance.
Karim thought it was a bad sign that the meeting had been held without Joumari.
The old man was silent for a long moment. “If we do this now, our drug business will be interrupted until we can find a new distributor. And this would be happening at the same time we’re searching for another supplier of women. Has the family considered this?”
“Yes, Uncle. We know there will be a heavy price. But if we don’t act now when the world is watching, we will lose credibility and territory forever. There are many competitors waiting for us to show any sign of weakness.”
Karim had said nothing during this exchange. He was listening intently as he heard the balance of power in the family shifting. If Joumari resisted the group’s decision, he could lose control completely.
The shrewd old man understood this very well and raised his eyes to the ceiling. “Then, insh’Allah, let it be done.”
He looked at Karim. “You will be the instrument of our vengeance. Destroy those who have dishonored our family.”
Karim got up and placing his hand over his heart, silently bowed his head to Joumari before turning and limping slowly from the room.
62
BLOCKED
Sunday, February 12, 10:30 a.m. Ekman had been sitting in his office thinking about the team’s unproductive morning meeting when he got a call from Norlander that he wanted to see him. He was surprised because the commissioner almost never appeared on weekends.
When he went in he saw that Malmer and Kallenberg were there.
“Please sit down, Walther,” Norlander said.
Malmer said, “Good morning,” but Kallenberg just nodded. He hadn’t been at the team meeting.
“Walther, you can imagine how disturbed we all were by yesterday’s newspaper story about Chafik. Olav and I have received numerous calls from papers and TV stations about it, as I know you probably have as well.”
Since yesterday, Ekman had brushed off half a dozen requests for comment with a brusque, “I can’t talk about an ongoing investigation.”
“That’s true, Commissioner,” he said.
“We’ve all seen stories like this before. I guess it’s the price we have to pay for trying to protect the public.” He sighed. “I want to assure you that’s not why I asked you to join us.”
“I appreciate your support, Commissioner.”
“What has disturbed me more than that story is a call I got yesterday from Birghir Edgren, an old friend of mine, about an interview you conducted on Friday with his client, Håkan Grundström. He said you were repeatedly disrespectful to Herr Grundström, a highly regarded banker, and actually abusive, even after Edgren had asked you to restrain yourself. Is that right?”
“I wouldn’t characterize our conversation that way, Commissioner. I’m sorry Advokat Edgren troubled you, but he’s given you a distorted picture of that interview. Let me explain why we were speaking with Herr Grundström.” Briefly Ekman sketched out the reasons he was considered a suspect in Haake’s murder, what they’d learned from the interview, and the rationale for the tough line he’d taken with him.
“I see,” said Norlander after a moment. “Thank you for putting it in context, but I’m still concerned, Walther.”
“Didn’t I ask you to be civil when you interviewed Grundström? And didn’t you assure me you would?” asked Kallenberg.
“I told you we’d stopped using a rubber hose, Arvid,” said Ekman with a laugh, trying to lighten the conversation. It fell flat.
“Walther, it’s understandable given the difficulty you’ve been having with the Haake case, that you were, how shall I say, extremely zealous, in questioning Herr Grundström. But trying to intimidate him was a mistake. He’s not only a well-known banker here in Weltenborg. As Birghir explained to me, Grundström’s on track to head one of the largest financial institutions in Scandinavia. Naturally h
e has powerful friends in Stockholm. Some of them are members of the National Police Board.” He looked directly at Ekman.
“I understand, Commissioner.” What Ekman really understood was that Norlander was concerned about protecting his own prospects for advancement.
“I guess that now is not the best time to ask for a phone tap and surveillance of Grundström,” he said, turning to Kallenberg.
“That’s very perceptive, Walther,” Kallenberg replied in a dry tone.
“Get ideas like that completely out of your head,” said Malmer.
“Walther, we all appreciate that you have your hands full with these investigations,” said Norlander, glancing over at Malmer, “and, of course, none of us want to impede your work. But until something clearly implicates Herr Grundström in the Haake murder, I think it best to leave him alone.”
“As you wish, Commissioner,” Ekman said in a neutral voice. But he was seething. An avenue that might have led to Haake’s killer had just been closed off.
63
NEW APPROACH
Sunday, February 12, 8:20 p.m. Ekman was sitting in his study thinking about the conversation he’d had with Ingbritt after dinner.
She’d been telling him about speaking earlier that day with their daughter, Carla, when she saw that Ekman wasn’t listening.
“What is it, Walther? You seem totally preoccupied.”
“Sorry. I don’t want to bore you with my problems, but they seem to be getting the best of me. What was it you were saying about Carla?”
“Just that she and Johan miss seeing us. I told her that although we badly want to visit, it will have to wait until the case you’re working on is finished. Did something happen today?”
Ekman told her about the meeting with Norlander and how frustrated it made him feel.
“They won’t let me handle this investigation the way I need to. There’s too much damn political interference. They all want me to solve these murders quickly, but at the same time, not step on anyone’s toes.” He threw up his hands in disgust. “Right now, we’re at a standstill.”
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