The Silent Girl (Sebastian Bergman 4)

by Michael Hjorth

  Torkel absorbed this new information in silence.

  There was no doubt that they would have to investigate FilboCorp more closely, but so far no one in the company knew that it figured in a murder case in Värmland. A multinational mining company.

  Torkel was under no illusions; they would be faced with slick corporate legal advisers, but the more facts they had to begin with, the harder it would be for FilboCorp to obstruct the inquiry.

  They needed to know more. A lot more.

  He thought their local colleague would be able to help them on that score.

  ★ ★ ★

  ‘How much do you know about mining?’

  Pia placed four cups of coffee on the table. If she felt any trace of animosity towards Torkel after his previous visit, she was hiding it well. She was a welcoming burst of sunshine.

  Torkel and Vanja were sitting on the sofa, Billy on the armchair in one corner of her spacious office on the second floor of the council building. Pia wheeled over a desk chair and sat down opposite the sofa, while Erik remained standing.

  Vanja glanced around the room. A large Persian rug under and in front of the desk. A dark, polished wooden floor. Green wallpaper which gave the room a certain gravitas; it reminded her of the state rooms in some old castle. Two big windows with green curtains. Artwork in heavy frames; Vanja presumed it remained in situ whoever won the election. On the wall behind the desk were more personal items: a signed photograph of Pia with Göran Persson, the former Prime Minister, and one with the football manager Sven-Göran Eriksson; a framed placard from Sport-Expressen about the ski tunnel. More photographs of hands being shaken, smiles directed at the camera. A child’s drawing that had faded in the sun, but the words ‘The best mummy in the world’ were still visible in big, sprawling letters. Vanja was no expert in interior design – in her apartment there was strict hierarchy where function always took precedence over aesthetics and personal touches – but she got the feeling that this room exuded a mixture of narcissism and power. Then again, Pia was a politician, so it was only to be expected.

  ‘Nothing really,’ Torkel replied to Pia’s introductory question.

  He leaned forward and sipped his coffee, which was much hotter than the liquid that emerged from the machine back at the station, in spite of the fact that it was supposed to have been repaired. This was how coffee ought to be.

  ‘A few years ago I didn’t know anything either, but I’ve had to learn. Starting up a mine isn’t straightforward, let me tell you. Milk?’

  She held out a small white jug. Torkel and Vanja shook their heads, but Billy accepted. Torkel noticed that Pia hadn’t brought a cup of coffee for her husband. Presumably she knew he wouldn’t want one, or she’d simply decided that he’d had enough caffeine for one day. Bearing in mind what he had seen of the couple so far, he thought the latter was more likely.

  ‘How long have FilboCorp been interested in this area?’ he asked.

  ‘Let me see, when were they granted permission to start prospecting …?’ Pia looked to her husband for his help. ‘Six or seven years ago, maybe,’ she went on, and Erik nodded in agreement. ‘The plans have been on ice for over two years, so it never crossed my mind that they could have anything to do with the Carlstens.’

  ‘Nor me,’ Erik said. ‘Absolutely not.’

  ‘Did they really call that poor woman asking to buy the place?’ Pia sounded indignant, as if it were a personal insult to her.

  ‘They did.’

  ‘That’s in very poor taste, I must say.’ Pia shook her beautifully coiffured head. ‘Very poor taste indeed.’

  Once again Erik nodded in agreement, and Torkel didn’t feel any need to pursue the subject.

  ‘FilboCorp,’ he said, bringing the conversation back to the matter in hand.

  ‘Yes, they applied for an exploration permit for the land up there about eight or nine years ago.’

  ‘What’s an exploration permit?’ Vanja wondered, putting down her cup.

  ‘It gives a company permission to investigate the bedrock with the aim of finding exploitable deposits in the search for certain minerals,’ Pia replied, and Vanja got the feeling that particular formula was in an official document somewhere.

  ‘And they can do this even if they don’t own the land?’ Torkel asked.

  ‘Yes, according to the law you can be granted permission to prospect for minerals regardless of who owns the land. But that’s not down to us – there’s a national authority that makes those decisions.’

  ‘So FilboCorp was granted one of these …’ Torkel struggled to remember the correct term.

  ‘Exploration permits, yes. The Mining Inspectorate of Sweden, the county and the Environmental Court all approved the application.’

  ‘And this was when?’ Billy had the laptop on his knee; it was his job to enter all the information on the timeline, and he wanted to be sure of his facts.

  ‘Six or seven years ago, as I said. I can find out the exact date if you like.’

  ‘Please.’

  ‘OK, so they got their permit – what happened next?’ Torkel wanted to push on; he was well aware that this new lead would involve a considerable amount of work. They didn’t have time to sit around drinking coffee in the council offices.

  ‘Before starting work, the person or company who has been given the permit has to produce a schedule outlining how the work will proceed. This is passed on to the landowners, who then have the opportunity to object.’

  ‘And the Carlstens did just that,’ Torkel stated.

  ‘Yes, but it didn’t stop the project. They objected to everything, so in the end the company just decided to move the prospecting area to outside the Carlstens’ land.’

  ‘I don’t understand,’ Vanja said. ‘When did they decide to shelve the idea?’

  ‘Much later. As I said, starting up a mine isn’t straightforward.’ Pia gave a little smile, indicating that she had learned the hard way how difficult it was and how much time it took.

  ‘The exploration showed that there were enough deposits to make it worthwhile proceeding, but it was clear that the main vein ran under the Carlstens’ land. The company had to be able to access that vein in order to fulfil the community benefits of the project, and to make it financially viable.’

  ‘So then they pulled out,’ Vanja said. Like Torkel she had heard enough about mining, but Pia shook her head emphatically, and Vanja realised they still had some way to go.

  ‘No, FilboCorp carried on and won the permission they needed to start a new mine.’

  ‘Why did they do that if they knew the Carlstens weren’t going to budge?’ Billy asked.

  ‘I suppose they hoped the situation would resolve itself during the time it took to go through the process – they wanted to have everything in place if they managed to reach an agreement with the Carlstens so that they could get started right away. They were given a concession by the Mining Inspectorate, a permit subject to certain conditions according to the environmental laws, and the council granted their planning application as per their original work schedule, so all they needed was to acquire the land by reaching an agreement with the various landowners.’

  ‘But the Carlstens still refused.’ Torkel, Vanja and Billy almost gave a start when they heard Erik’s voice; they had more or less forgotten he was there. ‘Dug in their heels and said no.’

  Pia nodded. ‘Without their land the project just wasn’t financially viable. FilboCorp kept trying, but when they started mentioning a compulsory purchase order, the Carlstens threatened to go to the European Commission and other international bodies. It’s possible that FilboCorp might have won, but the whole thing would take for ever, so they pulled out about … yes, two years ago.’ Pia spread her hands to show that she had reached the end of her account. She picked up her coffee cup, the contents of which must be as tepid as the beverage on offer at the station, Torkel thought.

  He leaned back and considered what they had heard.

 
The mining company gets its permit and the green light from all the relevant political bodies to start up a new mine. One family says no. The company loses the chance to make a significant profit.

  A Class A motive for murder.

  And they hadn’t pulled out. The call to Maria Carlsten proved that they were still extremely interested.

  However, FilboCorp probably weren’t the only ones who had lost money when the plans were put on ice.

  ‘How many landowners would the company have had to reach an agreement with?’ Vanja asked, just as Torkel was about to say the very same thing.

  ‘All of them,’ Pia said with a shrug, making it clear that they should have been able to work that out for themselves.

  ‘And how many was that?’

  ‘Five, including the Carlstens.’

  ‘We need a list of the other four, please.’

  ★ ★ ★

  Billy was standing at the whiteboard wondering whether to cross ‘Carlsten’ off his short list. They were dead, and therefore of no interest in the investigation in the same way as the other four names, but then everyone would know that. If he left the name there, it would be a more complete list of those affected by FilboCorp’s plans. Decisions, decisions.

  He decided to leave it.

  He took a step back. He had updated the timeline with the information about FilboCorp’s activities in the area according to the documentation provided by Pia Flodin. On the left-hand side he had written the names of the five landowners and the details he had about them. Apart from the Carlstens, he had listed:

  HEDÉN – FRANK & SON, HAMPUS

  BENGTSSON – GUNILLA & KENT

  TORSSON – FELIX, HANNAH & DAUGHTER, CORNELIA

  ANDRÉN – STEFAN

  He had added what they already knew, plus anything that was easily accessible through various databases. Erik had told them about Frank Hedén, a widower with a disabled son. He was a former colleague of Pia’s, and was now a gamekeeper in the area. He was suffering from cancer.

  Torkel had passed on what he knew about the Bengtssons and the Torssons, since he had interviewed both families, although there wasn’t much to say; they would have to go and talk to all of them again. In one afternoon they had gone from being neighbours and possible witnesses to potential suspects.

  They knew virtually nothing about Stefan Andrén. They hadn’t spoken to him in connection with the murders because he didn’t live near the Carlstens; in fact he didn’t even live in Torsby. He owned a tract of forest in the relevant area, but he was based in London. Forty-five years old, single. A risk analyst with an investment bank. And that was all they had.

  Torkel came in carrying several folders, and before Billy could tell him the timeline had been updated, and ask what he should do next, Torkel pre-empted him.

  ‘I want you to go to Kiruna,’ he said, pulling out a chair and sitting down.

  Billy hoped he had misheard. Kiruna? A few days in Torsby was bad enough, but Kiruna? In April? Was it even light up there yet? The snow certainly wouldn’t have disappeared.

  ‘To do what?’ he asked, reluctance in every syllable.

  ‘Take a closer look at this business with FilboCorp,’ Torkel replied, giving no sign that he had picked up on Billy’s distaste.

  ‘Can’t I just read up on the case?’

  ‘I want you to talk to Matti Pejok’s brother, and I want you to look at the contract he’s supposed to have signed.’

  ‘You do know there are things called scanners,’ Billy tried again. ‘And telephones. Skype …’

  ‘Scanners and Skype don’t let you talk to people face to face,’ Torkel said, demonstratively opening the top folder and beginning to read. The conversation was over.

  ‘Skype does. Kind of.’

  ‘You’re going to Kiruna.’

  Billy gave a resigned sigh. The boss had issued an order; there wasn’t much he could do about it.

  ‘Can I at least take Vanja with me? Then we could share the work so that I don’t need to stay as long.’

  ‘No, I need her here.’

  ‘Well, can I take someone else?’

  ‘Fine.’ It was Torkel’s turn to sigh. ‘Take whoever you like, just go as soon as possible.’

  Billy nodded and left the room, glancing at the time on his mobile.

  Check out. Travel back to Stockholm. He might manage to get up to Kiruna today; otherwise he would spend the night in Stockholm. At home. With Maya. The phone sex hadn’t worked at all; he didn’t even want to think about that. It had been incredibly embarrassing and … No, he really didn’t want to think about it.

  ‘Call Gunilla and she’ll sort out tickets for you and the person who’s going with you,’ Torkel called after him.

  Way ahead of you, Billy thought as Gunilla’s phone began to ring. Torkel’s PA would have the pleasure of finding out the fastest way he could leave a place he didn’t want to be in order to get to the place he definitely didn’t want to visit.

  ★ ★ ★

  He had learned a lot during his years with Riksmord, and one of them was how to pack quickly. Fifteen minutes after arriving in his room he was ready to leave. He had gathered up his things and made several calls.

  The first was to Jennifer.

  As always she had sounded cheerful when she answered, and she was even happier when he asked her if she’d like to go up to Kiruna.

  On a job.

  With Riksmord.

  ‘Why isn’t Vanja going with you, or someone else on the team?’ she wondered when she had pulled herself together after delightedly saying yes, in spite of the tight schedule.

  The question wasn’t exactly a surprise. It was no secret that Jennifer had been bitterly disappointed when Vanja’s FBI training fell through and Jennifer lost her temporary post with Riksmord. Jennifer was too smart to blame Vanja – she knew it wasn’t Vanja’s fault she was back in Sigtuna – but feelings were feelings; they might be irrational, but she still resented Vanja just a little, perhaps subconsciously. The way she overemphasised the other woman’s name reminded Billy that it was a sensitive situation.

  ‘Torkel needs her here, and Ursula is still on leave, so there’s no one else,’ Billy replied truthfully. ‘And to be perfectly honest, I’d rather go with you.’

  She had laughed at him.

  ‘I bet you say that to all the girls!’

  Then they had got down to details; Jennifer wasn’t sure she would be allowed to go at such short notice, but Billy promised to fix it.

  His next call had been to Jennifer’s boss, Magnus Skogsberg in Sigtuna. Billy had quickly explained the situation: Riksmord needed Jennifer Holmgren to assist in an important inquiry.

  Yes, it was to do with the murdered family in Torsby.

  No, she would be going to Kiruna.

  No, Billy couldn’t give him any more details about why they would be going to Kiruna.

  Yes, Billy understood this created difficulties for the Sigtuna police, yes, he knew his request came far too late and not via the correct channels.

  Yes, he understood that it took time to reorganise rotas, but was it possible that they could spare Jennifer for a few days? Torkel Höglund would really appreciate it.

  Billy never ceased to be amazed at the power of Torkel’s name in police circles. Billy knew him only as the boss who ran Riksmord with a firm but almost invisible hand; he never made a big deal of his role. He didn’t need to; there was never any doubt about who was in charge. But every time Billy mentioned Torkel to police officers outside the team, he got the feeling he was working for a completely different person. A legend. Someone who was simultaneously respected, admired and feared. Someone whose words carried real weight, and whose friendship, or at least appreciation, was much sought after. Magnus Skogsberg was no exception. Apparently he could spare Jennifer after all. He was happy for her to join Billy. Could Billy pass on his best wishes to Torkel?

  Then Gunilla had called back to tell him he couldn’t fly to Kiruna unti
l early tomorrow morning. She had rented him a car from the Hertz depot on Bergebyvägen in Torsby; all he had to do was pick it up. She was about to sort out tickets, a hotel and a hire car for him in Kiruna; was he taking anyone with him?

  Billy had explained about Jennifer, thanked Gunilla and ended the call as he closed his suitcase. She was good. Fast, efficient and focused on finding solutions. Vanja was convinced that Gunilla was a little bit in love with Torkel; she claimed to have seen the signs, without specifying what these signs might be. Billy had pointed out that Gunilla was married with three children, as far as he knew; Vanja had wondered what that had to do with anything. They had never found out for sure.

  Billy picked up his case; time to go.

  His glance fell on the padded envelope lying on the desk. Sealed, addressed and ready to drop in the postbox. Inside lay Vanja’s toothbrush in a plastic bag, and in another some hairs from Sebastian’s comb, along with a piece of toilet paper with his blood on it which Billy had found in the bin in his bathroom. Presumably he had cut himself shaving.

  When he stole Vanja’s toothbrush and lied his way into Sebastian’s room, he had been hell bent on pursuing his little project right through to the end, but when he had put everything he needed in the envelope, he wasn’t so sure, which was why it was still sitting there. He had to make a decision. Did he really want to know? What good would the information do him if his suspicions were confirmed? Should he forget the whole thing?

  He grabbed the envelope on his way out. Whatever he decided to do, he couldn’t leave it there. He had a long car journey to Stockholm during which he could think things over. And he had one more call to make.

  He didn’t call Maya until he was in the car – a Ford Focus ST. It was fairly new, with only 1,790 kilometres on the clock when he picked it up. Not bad to drive. Billy was travelling at a steady 130 kilometres per hour on the E45 heading towards Sunne when he switched from Spotify on his phone and pressed Maya’s number. Xzibit’s ‘The Gambler’ disappeared and was replaced on the speakers by the single note of the ringtone. Maya answered almost right away.

  ‘Hi, darling.’