Spice Trade

by Erik Mauritzson

  “I’ve prepared chronological lists of all the drug sales, with the most recent first, the amounts, the money paid, and to whom. Skarin had an extensive distribution network throughout Sweden, Norway, and Denmark, and what we now have will enable us, and our colleagues there, to put these people away.”

  “What about the spice company’s involvement?” Ekman asked.

  “As you know, it was controlled from Morocco, but the drugs were shipped through India, concealed among the spices, on two ships owned by the Moroccans. Drugs came in and the trafficked women were shipped out. It was a reciprocal deal. The price Skarin received for selling the women, and the money he got by providing them to his clients here, helped offset the cost of the drugs.

  “But lately, there’d been a change of plan. The three deaths, particularly Haake’s, had increased police pressure on the trafficking side of the business. The Moroccans wanted him to close that down because it had become too risky and discovery would threaten the drug operation. They’d offered a 10 percent price cut on the drugs to sweeten the change. Skarin accepted, but his notes show he’d already reneged and was negotiating with other buyers to sell the women.”

  “Then it’s possible the Moroccans learned about it and decided to intervene,” said Rystrom.

  “Yes,” Ekman said, “and the discovery that Chafik had been murdered, probably by Skarin or his people, would have given them another reason to kill him.”

  “In his notes,” Annborg said, “Skarin described meetings with a Moroccan named Karim to negotiate a new drug arrangement.”

  “Is it possible this man is the second killer we’re looking for?” Rapp asked Ekman.

  “It’s something to go on,” he replied. “Better than anything else we’ve got. Alrik, let’s find out whether anyone with that name recently flew to Stockholm from Morocco and whether he’s returned there.”

  Rapp got up and left the room to make the necessary calls.

  “Enar and Gerdi, what have you got for us?”

  “We have lists of the women Skarin trafficked,” Enar said. “He wrote down when he procured them, the dates they were sold to his drug supplier for auction in Marrakech, and how much he got for them. He’d had them kidnapped, mostly from Eastern European countries, by Thore Ostlund, the guy we’re searching for, who brought them to that farm. Skarin wrote how they broke them in: they were abused and raped repeatedly, first by Ostlund, then the woman, Marta, and the man, Gotz, and afterward by Skarin’s customers.”

  Vinter continued. “We’ve also got the customers’ names, the dates they assaulted the women, and how much they paid. It seems they were only interested in terrified victims, not prostitutes. They paid heavily to rape women who were forced sex slaves.”

  “My God,” said Carlin, her face turning pale. She hadn’t had time to read all the information she’d extracted from the computer.

  “There’s more,” said Enar. “I think you’re going to have some trouble with this, Chief.”

  “What’s the problem?”

  “It’s who Skarin’s clients were: eight wealthy men, actually nine when you include Haake, from all sorts of occupations. They’re three senior business executives, a physician, a lawyer, a clergyman, an army colonel, and two bankers. And you’ll really appreciate this: Håkan Grundström was one of the bankers.”

  “The dates show that Grundström must have been the person who introduced Haake to the ring,” said Vinter. “We were right to suspect him all along. Because he was the contact man, after Haake’s picture was published, he had even more reason to kill Haake to make sure he didn’t expose him as another rapist.”

  “What a can of worms,” said Rosengren.

  “For once, you’ve got it exactly right,” Ekman said to him. “Enar, order surveillance on Grundström and Skarin’s other customers. We want to make sure they’re around when we come for them.”

  “There’s something we discovered that you’ll be interested in, Chief,” said the usually taciturn Alenius. “Rosengren and I looked over Skarin’s notes about his final shipment of women to Morocco and we got curious about where the ship was now. We called the port captain’s office in Casablanca to see if it was there and it hadn’t arrived yet. So we asked our Coast Guard to check the AIS, automated intelligence system stations tracking ships along the freighter’s likely route. They found it had docked in Rotterdam. It had engine trouble that’s just been repaired, and only left today. The ship won’t put into Casablanca for five more days.”

  “That’s terrific work, both of you. We’re going to get those women off that ship.”

  76

  BUILDING CASES

  Friday, February 17, 10:30 a.m. Ekman was sitting in the commissioner’s office, updating the report he’d sent yesterday with new information from the morning meeting.

  Norlander and Malmer sat listening without interrupting, stunned looks on their faces.

  When he’d finished, Norlander said, “Congratulations, Walther. In just two days you’ve broken these cases wide open.”

  “Thanks, Commissioner, but the credit really goes to my team, and Garth Rystrom’s cyber whiz, Tyri Carlin.”

  “Nonsense. Don’t be so modest. This morning’s paper suggested you were getting nowhere and you’ve proven them completely wrong. You were improperly blamed, and now you shouldn’t hesitate to publicly take well-earned credit.”

  “I think we need to be extremely careful with the next steps, sir,” said Ekman, reaching into his jacket pocket and handing him a sheet of paper.

  “These men were Skarin’s customers.”

  As Norlander read the list of nine names, his eyebrows shot up. “My God,” he said. “You’re sure these men are all rapists? I know some of them personally, it’s unbelievable. Accusing people this prominent is going to cause a national media storm. We’d better be right about this.” He handed the paper to Malmer, who read it with growing amazement on his face.

  “There’s absolutely no doubt, Commissioner. We have dates and amounts paid by each of the men to rape these women. Besides that, Skarin made secret videos of them doing it. His notes show he was planning future blackmail.”

  “Maybe the women were really willing prostitutes,” Malmer said hopefully.

  “Not a chance. We know where they were kidnapped from and when. We also have DNA evidence that one of them, the late, unlamented Herr Haake, was a rapist.”

  “I saw Grundström’s name on the list,” Norlander added. “Frankly, I’m beyond shocked.”

  “We now think he may have killed Haake to protect himself from disclosure. There are also videos of him raping women. I want to interview him again, and then arrest him.”

  “With this new information we’re now on solid ground. Bring him in. These men may have known about each other,” Norlander went on. “If we can leverage the videos, they may become witnesses in return for reduced sentences. It could cascade. We might be able to get them to turn against each other.

  “But they may claim the women were willing participants or prostitutes, despite the information from Skarin’s computer. We could build airtight cases if we had victims who’d testify against them. Are there any women who can do this?”

  “I’ve just found out that Skarin’s last shipment of women has been delayed en route to Casablanca. They won’t get there for another five days. We have to make sure these women are rescued. They may be willing to testify.

  “Commissioner, there’s one other thing. We’ve been trying to get our hands on a Moroccan whose full name we’ve discovered is Karim Serhane, who may be involved in the new murders. We know he was in Sweden during the time they happened and he’s now back in Morocco. He had several reasons to kill Skarin and the others. We badly need to question him and I’ve asked CID to have an Interpol ‘red notice’ sent out.

  “I’d like your permission to go to Morocco and be there when that ship comes in to make sure the women are safe and speak with them. Then I’ll try to locate this man, Serhane.<
br />
  “I have a strong gut feeling, call it an old police officer’s intuition, that he’s the other killer we’re looking for. If we can find Thore Ostlund, it may be possible to wrap up all the murders.”

  “Traveling all the way to Morocco is ridiculous,” exclaimed Malmer. “It’s too expensive and you’ve plenty to do right here. Leave it to the Moroccan police.”

  Norlander ignored Malmer’s outburst and was quiet as he considered Ekman’s request. “You can’t go alone, Walther, and you’ve no contacts there.”

  “I was thinking that Garth Rystrom, and Valdis Granholm, from CID’s international relations unit, would be willing to come with me. She’s already been in touch with the Moroccan police about Chafik and Joumari, the head of the ring.”

  “If you think it’s necessary, I’ll agree, but only if they can go with you. Please make it a quick trip; Olav’s right about us needing you here.”

  “Thank you, Commissioner. I appreciate your support.

  “As I mentioned in my report, Kallenberg is resigning this morning. I don’t believe that he knew about his partner’s activities. But he felt certain that others’ doubts about his integrity couldn’t be overcome. He’s probably right to resign. So we won’t have a prosecutor until another one’s appointed.”

  “That could slow us down, Walther. Is there anyone you’d prefer?”

  “The best choice would be Malin Edvardsson, if she can be transferred back here from Malmö on a temporary basis, perhaps as special prosecutor to handle all these cases.”

  “That’s a good idea. I’ll speak with the prosecutor-general today. Also we need to get his agreement that the farmhouse murders are part of our case, even though they happened outside our jurisdiction.”

  The commissioner and Malmer stood, as did Ekman. “Good luck, Walther. And be careful over there,” Norlander said, shaking his hand. A frowning Malmer said nothing.

  Ekman went directly from the commissioner’s office to Rystrom’s to tell him about the meeting.

  He described the reasons behind the Moroccan trip he’d gotten approved.

  “Garth, Norlander made it dependent on you and Valdis coming with me.”

  “I’ve never been there, and although this won’t exactly be a pleasure trip, I’ll be happy to go along. Why don’t you let me call her and ask?”

  Ekman quickly agreed. He thought Rystrom would be much more persuasive, considering their relationship.

  That evening, Ekman described the day’s events to Ingbritt over dinner, and then he brought up his trip to Morocco.

  “When will you be leaving?” she asked.

  “In the next few days. I’ll probably be gone less than a week. If this weren’t for work, I wish you could come with me. Maybe after this is all over we can take a vacation there. It’s supposed to be an interesting country.”

  “I’ll miss you when you’re away,” Ingbritt said. They’d seldom been apart in all their years together. “Maybe I’ll arrange to be at Carla’s while you’re gone.”

  “That’s a great idea. I won’t have to worry about you being alone.”

  77

  NEW PROSECUTOR

  Saturday, February 18, 9:30 a.m. At that morning’s meeting, Ekman had brought everyone up to date on his conference with Norlander, and the trip he’d be making to Morocco. He’d been glad to hear Rystrom announce that his CID superiors had agreed to let him and Granholm go along.

  They’d spent the rest of the time reviewing efforts to roll up the drug distribution network and find Ostlund. It had been decided that Holm and Vinter would bring Grundström in that afternoon, and he’d be arrested. At the same time, the seven other men being watched would also be arrested.

  There had been a few smiles around the table when they’d heard that Kallenberg, whom most of them had disliked, had resigned and that Edvardsson, someone they all respected, would be handling the slew of new cases. And Rapp was particularly pleased when he learned he’d be in charge while the chief was away.

  Ekman glanced at the clock on his bookcase, and saw it was almost time for his meeting with Malin Edvardsson. He was looking forward to seeing the formidable prosecutor again.

  There was a knock at the door, and Edvardsson came in. Ekman went over to greet her and to his surprise, she reached up to hug him.

  “It’s been too long since I last saw you, Walther,” she said, and then shook her finger at him. “You and Ingbritt never came to visit me in Malmö as you promised.”

  “Malin, believe me we wanted to, but I’ve just been swamped.”

  “Yes,” she said playfully, “I did hear something to that effect.”

  When they were seated, he said, “Malin, thank you for agreeing to take on these cases. I know it’s a terrible imposition to ask you to leave the home you’ve just made down there.”

  “You’re right, it’s very inconvenient, but I’ll manage. Now tell me all about it.”

  Ekman spent the next half hour describing how the interlocking cases had evolved and what lay ahead. Edvardsson listened intently without interrupting.

  When he’d finished, she said, “What an awful business. These men deserve to be made an example of and I’m determined to see that it happens. They’ll all be charged today when you arrest them.” She was now the consummate professional prosecutor.

  “Walther, before you leave for Morocco, I’m going to need a full written report detailing what you’ve just summarized.”

  “I’ll try to get it to you by tomorrow.”

  “I’ll also need crime-scene, forensic, and autopsy reports, together with the complete printout from Skarin’s computer, your inspectors’ investigation notes, and transcripts of all interviews.”

  “Alrik Rapp will be working with you while I’m gone. I’ll ask him to pull all that together for you right away.”

  “You said a major reason you’re going to Morocco is to make sure those poor women are rescued and brought back to Sweden. They’re important witnesses in building the strongest possible cases against these rapists.”

  “The other reason is to find this man Karim Serhane who may be the other killer we’re looking for.”

  “I understand that’s important for resolving the murders. But from my point of view, your first priority should be to secure those witnesses.”

  “You’re right. I’ll keep that in mind.”

  Ekman heard the clock chime and said, “Malin, Norlander wanted to see you when we’d finished. Let’s head up there.”

  When they entered his office, Norlander came over to shake Edvardsson’s hand. “It’s good to see you, Malin. Thanks for coming back to handle these cases.” Malmer, who everyone knew couldn’t stand Edvardsson, hadn’t been invited to the meeting.

  “The drug distribution network is being rolled up, and the men involved in the women trafficking ring are being arrested and charged today,” she said. “From the evidence Walther has gathered, it looks like they’re all guilty of terrible crimes. I’ll do my best to see they’re convicted, Commissioner.”

  “And I know you’ll be successful,” he said, leading the way to some comfortable armchairs.

  “If there’s anything I can do to help you, please let me know.”

  “Thanks, I appreciate that, but right now, I think I’m fine. Walther and I have gone over all the information I’ll need to get started.”

  “Since the stories about the murders at the farmhouse, the men have been watched,” said Ekman. “Some of them may have considered making a run for it, and probably would when news of Grundström’s arrest comes out. To prevent that, as Malin said, they’re all being brought in today.”

  “I think it would be best to preempt hysterical media reports by holding a conference,” said Norlander. “The public has the right to know what’s happening and it’s better they hear it from us, rather than distorted media accounts.”

  “I agree that the public has a right to know,” Edvardsson said. “With these arrests it’s unavoidable. But we h
ave to be careful not to prejudice our cases until they’re completely built. A lot may depend on the women Walther hopes to bring back and their willingness to testify about their ordeals. Some may not want to.”

  “Malin’s right, Commissioner. And I’ve got six murder investigations underway that can’t be discussed.”

  “You’re both correct, of course. However, with all these arrests, we need to throw some red meat to the media,” Norlander said, “even if, as usual, they won’t find it a completely satisfying meal.”

  “Public relations,” said Ekman wryly.

  “Yes, it’s ‘public relations,’ but it’s vital to maintain the public’s confidence, and their support for the police,” said Norlander, and turning to Edvardsson, added, “And the prosecutor.”

  “When do you want to do it, Commissioner?” asked Ekman.

  “The sooner, the better. How about tomorrow, Sunday afternoon, when coverage may be thinner? Will you be able to be there, Malin?”

  “Yes, certainly.”

  “It will be a good time to reintroduce you,” Norlander said.

  “Haeggman will have a field day with us,” said Ekman, grousing, as he and Edvardsson got up.

  Norlander shrugged. “So what else is new?”

  78

  CHARGES

  Saturday, February 18, 3 p.m. Advokat Edgren was indignant, or at least pretended to be.

  “I thought it was clearly understood that Herr Grundström was not to be harassed. You can be sure that Commissioner Norlander will learn of this outrage.”

  Ekman’s and Edvardsson’s faces were expressionless as they sat facing Edgren and Grundström.

  “What is my client accused of now? Not that ridiculous charge of murder again?”

  “Herr Grundström was never charged, as you know, Herr Edgren,” said Edvardsson.

  “All right, ‘suspected of’ then, to be exact.”

  “We still have that suspicion,” said Ekman. “But that’s not why Grundström is here today.” He’d purposely dropped the polite “Herr.”