The Treacherous Net

by Helene Tursten

  Hannu came into the room. “Anything interesting?”

  “Yes. This isn’t right. Moa had jeans that cost two thousand kronor, boots at around three thousand a pair, and expensive perfumes. This handbag would have cost several thousand.”

  “Shoplifting?”

  “Maybe some of this stuff, but not all of it. The stereo, the perfumes, the makeup . . . the tops . . . look at this one, it’s still got the price tag on it. Eight hundred and ninety-nine kronor!”

  Irene shut the closet door and opened the other one, revealing a stack of wire baskets. She started to go through them, and in the top one she found what she was looking for. She pulled it out and put it on the bed. She took out several pairs of old sweats and laid them on the dirty sheet; concealed among the sweats were four sets of underwear. It looked as if Moa had deliberately hidden them.

  “Bingo,” Irene said grimly.

  Hannu reached down and checked the label.

  “Sexy Thing,” he said, holding up a dark red set in see-through lace.

  “It’s the same as the girls were wearing, but a different color!” Irene exclaimed.

  She couldn’t suppress her excitement. They took a closer look at the thong and the skimpy bra. It definitely looked like the same style; the tiny roses were there too. The word Saturday was embroidered on the front of the thong.

  The other sets were different brands, but certainly not the kind of thing you would expect a fifteen-year-old to own.

  “She could have bought them online,” Hannu said.

  “I think Moa did all kinds of things online,” Irene said. “We have to find her computer.”

  She gazed pensively at the see-through underwear.

  “I think Moa was wearing the black Sexy Thing set when she met her killer. He took the bra with him, and forced Alexandra to put it on. Or maybe he put it on her himself afterward. The black bra was the only thing she was wearing when she was found.”

  “We still haven’t found the rest of the girls’ clothes,” Hannu said.

  Their eyes met; each knew what the other was thinking. This investigation is turning into a nightmare. And in the worst-case scenario, this was just the beginning.

  “We’ve got an ID on the mummy!” Tommy announced triumphantly.

  His colleagues sat up a little straighter, noticeably encouraged by the news. It was Friday morning, and they’d all had a tough week. Irene was already on her fourth mug of coffee, and was gradually starting to feel human.

  “His name is Mats Persson—no relation, I should add. Date of birth March fifteenth, 1942. He disappeared without a trace on the evening of Wednesday, November ninth, 1983,” Tommy went on.

  “Did he go missing in the vicinity of Korsvägen?” Irene wondered.

  “The last time he was seen alive was just before six o’clock at the city library on Götaplatsen. He spoke to one of the librarians as they were just about to close, and she saw him leave. And that was the last anyone saw of him. A woman waiting outside the city theater saw a man who might have been Mats Persson, but she couldn’t be sure. If it was him, he walked past the steps and around the corner, heading toward the back of the theater.

  “Well, he certainly turned a corner,” Jonny Blom said, dunking a cookie in his coffee.

  “There was an extensive investigation into Persson’s disappearance. I spoke to Olle Nordlund, who retired a few years ago. He remembered the case very well; he told me it was given high priority, because Persson’s father was murdered during the Second World War. It was in the fall of 1941, six months before Mats was born. His father was shot, and there was some suspicion that Russian spies were involved. The father used to work for the Swedish security service—SÄPO’s predecessor, which makes him one of Sweden’s first modern security agents. This is all according to Olle Nordlund.”

  Superintendent Efva Thylqvist had remained silent until now, listening attentively to Tommy’s report.

  “So that means the case notes from ’83 should still be here in the building?” she said.

  “Should be,” Tommy agreed.

  The superintendent didn’t say any more, but Irene could see that she was mulling something over. At the end of morning prayer, Thylqvist turned to Tommy.

  “Could you come to my office? There’s something we need to discuss with regard to the mum . . . Mats Persson.”

  “Jens wants one of you to go down. He’s found something on Alexandra’s computer,” Fredrik said as he left the department.

  “I think we should all go,” Irene said. “It could give us a lead on Moa.”

  Jonny, Hannu and Irene made their way down to the technical department.

  “I’ve found the contact,” Jens said, pointing to a pile of printouts. On the top was an enlarged picture of a smiling young man in a white T-shirt. He was strikingly good-looking, with sparkling brown eyes and perfect white teeth. His medium-length hair was dark, with a few streaks of blond. He was probably between sixteen and eighteen years of age.

  “I’ve checked out the picture; it’s on the net, but this one has been cropped. He’s actually sitting there jerking off. It’s on several gay porn websites.”

  “How the hell do you know that?” Jonny snapped.

  Jens looked at him in surprise, then shrugged.

  “It’s my job. The first contact with Alexandra was made at the beginning of January on the youth site snuttis.se. He says he’s a seventeen-year-old guy named Adam. Claims he broke his leg while he was snowboarding during the Christmas holidays. He’s looking for a girlfriend. Alexandra answered. Nothing of note happens during January; he flirts a little and she seems interested. In the middle of February he asks her to send him a picture of her face. She takes one using the webcam on her computer. At the beginning of April she sends pictures of herself stroking her breasts. He’d been flattering her, asking her to do it. And he wants to get together. They arrange to meet up on Walpurgis Night.”

  “Really?” Irene said.

  “Yep. It’s him. Typical online grooming.”

  “Have you traced his computer?” Jonny asked.

  Jens gave him a look that made his opinion of that particular question very clear. However, there was nothing in his voice when he spoke. “He uses two. They were reported stolen from a car parked outside the Chalmers University of Technology just before Christmas: a Fujitsu Siemens palmtop and an iBook. He hasn’t contacted Alexandra from a fixed broadband connection; he uses free public Wi-Fi zones. They’re available in most hotels, at airports and some larger train stations and on some trains and buses. Or you can surf using 3G, but that doesn’t work so well on trains, because they’re moving, and several people will be using the net. A satellite connection is better.”

  “Can you trace where he was when he was online?” Irene asked.

  “It’s difficult if it was a satellite connection, but I’ll see what I can do.”

  They would have to be content with that for the time being. Irene picked up the pile of printouts and left the office with Hannu and Jonny following in her wake.

  “We’ll split them between us. Make a note of anything that looks interesting,” Irene said as they were on their way up to the department in the elevator. She divided the pile into three, and they went to their offices to work through the material.

  Irene had the last third, covering the period from March 21 to April 29. Tense with anticipation, she began to read:

  Alexandra: hi. what are you doing?

  Adam: looking at the pic of you and getting . . .  what about you?

  Alexandra: soooo bored. good friday! going to skåne tomorrow with mom and dad, gymkhana. don’t know why they bother when they’re getting divorced anyway. keeping up appearances.

  Adam: it’ll be better when they split—that’s what happened with mine.

  Alexandra: when was that?

 
Adam: 2 yrs ago. i was same age as you. have you got brothers or sisters?

  Alexandra: 2 brothers but they’re grown up & live in stockholm.

  Adam: i’ve got an older brother. he’s 25, has an apartment in gbg. i’m going to take it over when he moves 

  Alexandra: so when’s he moving?

  Adam: don’t know. he finishes his business course in a year so he might get a job somewhere else. hope so! 

  Alexandra: what are you doing on easter?

  Adam: thinking about you! can’t you send me a sexy pic? feel i need it!

  [Eight minutes elapse.]

  Alexandra: no time. got to go to stables. Xx.

  Adam: Xx.

  The next contact is on March 25. Alexandra complains about a miserable Easter weekend in Skåne. The gymkhana went well, but her parents spent most of the time quarreling. She is sick and tired of their constant arguing. Adam is sympathetic, and talks about how things were when his parents were in the process of separating. There is nothing of a sexual nature in their conversation over the next few days, but he becomes more persistent at the beginning of April.

  Adam: can’t you send me some sexy pics to keep me going til we meet? you look gorgeous in the pics you’ve already sent, but i want to see more. your breasts for example. please?

  [Five minutes elapse.]

  Alexandra: ok, but you better not show them to anyone else.

  Adam: of course not! you’re my girl!

  Alexandra poses briefly in front of the webcam. She takes off her top and bra and touches her breasts.

  Adam: you’re so beautiful! as soon as my leg’s better we can get together! nothing wrong with other parts though, if you know what i mean! 

  Alexandra: i want to see you too.

  They chat frequently over the next few days. The sexual references become increasingly overt, and Alexandra starts to become bolder. On Saturday April 26, Adam suggests a meeting.

  Alexandra: it’s a long way to borås.

  Adam: my brother is coming home for walpurgis night, so you could come with him. it’s only an hour by car.

  [Three minutes elapse.]

  Alexandra: can’t stay over. competition the following day.

  Adam: that’s cool, he’s going back late in the evening, he’s got to study for an exam.

  Alexandra: my parents are going out for the evening—when is he coming back to gbg?

  Adam: around midnight. he’ll drive you home, you don’t need to say anything to your parents, they’ll never know you’ve been away. 

  Alexandra: as long as i’m home by 12 at the latest. i’ll tell them i’m going to watch the parade with my friends, then back to someone’s house.

  Adam: sounds good.

  Over the next few days the tone of their conversation is light, and the planned meeting is not mentioned. However, on April 29 Adam spells out the details.

  Adam: my brother’s name is micke. he’ll pick you up in the car from Torslanda Square at 6 tomorrow—you’ll be here at 7 and he’ll leave here at 11 at the latest to take you home. mom has promised to cook dinner for us, do you like grilled chicken?

  Alexandra: sure. i like everything except mashed turnips and broccoli.

  Adam: same here, but i don’t like peas and beans either. i like you though! 

  Alexandra: and i like you! 

  Adam: Xx. can’t wait to see you!

  Alexandra: same here! Xx.

  Irene sat there for a long time, trying to swallow the lump in her throat. Alexandra had walked straight into a trap. She had allowed herself to be drawn into the treacherous net. Easy prey for the skillful Adam, who had so successfully played the unhappy fourteen-year-old longing for love and friendship. He had realized how naïve she was, and had exploited her loneliness. She had been carefully selected. Groomed . . . he had gently nudged her along until she was exactly where he wanted her, preparing her for his ultimate goal: a face-to-face meeting. Adam had intended to kill her all along.

  Irene decided she needed to speak to Jens. She gathered up the papers and ran down the stairs to his office. He was still sitting at his computer; he looked up from the screen and nodded to her as she walked in.

  “Sorry to disturb you, Jens, but I need to know more,” she began.

  “No problem. Shoot.”

  “Who’s the guy in the picture? You said he was on gay porn sites . . .”

  “He called himself Pablo Eros. An Italian gay porn star, kind of a legend. The picture is at least ten years old. He killed himself two years ago; there’s a whole heap of grieving fans out there. This particular picture is all over the Internet.”

  “So he’s still alive on the net,” Irene said.

  Jens nodded. “Forever and ever, amen.”

  He waved her over to look at the screen so that she could see the original version.

  “So Adam took the picture of this good-looking guy, cropped it and sent it to Alexandra. She must have thought she’d hit it off with every girl’s dream,” Irene said.

  “There’s no risk in using this picture. Teenage girls are unlikely to be on sites like this; they’re real hard-core stuff.”

  “Do you think Adam contacted more girls online?”

  “Absolutely! They always do. Then they choose their victim. Or victims.”

  “So he might have had several girls on the go at the same time?”

  “More than likely.”

  “Any chance of finding out whether Moa had been in touch with Adam online?”

  Jens shook his head.

  “That’s tricky. She could have been in contact with him on a different site, and of course he could have used a different name. And so could she.”

  “But Alexandra didn’t.”

  “She was the perfect victim. Completely clueless.”

  “Jens, I’m worried that our killer might already be in touch with his next victim. He might have already met up with her and killed her. Is there any way you can look . . . is there any chance . . .”

  She left the sentence hanging in the air and made a helpless gesture.

  “No way. These sites have hundreds of thousands of users every day. I’ve already searched for Adam on snuttis.se, but I didn’t find anything of interest. He’s probably using a different name, which makes it impossible to track him down. You’ve got to use the mass media to warn kids,” Jens said.

  “I think you’re right. It’s time to warn young people and their parents. The disadvantage is that the killer will realize that we know how he got in touch with Alexandra.”

  “True, but it’s the only way,” Jens said, his expression grave.

  “I had the first third, so I’ll start,” Jonny said. He looked down at a piece of paper with various scribbled notes on it.

  “My section runs from January seventh to February tenth. In his very first message the guy says he’s seventeen and at high school, specializing in sciences and technology. He lives outside Borås and had a fall on a ski slope in Sälen over winter break, although he was actually snowboarding. Sustained a complex lower leg fracture. He’s bored and wants to get in touch with a girl online. Alexandra replies. After a week or so she sends him a photo of herself taken using her webcam. Adam tells her his camera is broken, but he’s sending her a picture that was taken before Christmas. Which is the picture of our gay porn star, of course. He doesn’t really give much more information about himself.”

  Irene jotted down a few notes.

  Hannu took over. “February eleventh to March twentieth. There’s no contact the first week because it’s the mid-semester break; Alexandra is away at a riding camp in Kungsbacka. When she gets back she asks if they can call each other on their cell phones. Adam claims he lost his in the snowboarding accident. That was the third phone he’d lost since last summer; his mom was furious and told him h
e had to save up for a new one himself. He doesn’t want to use the landline because she’s always complaining about the phone bills. ‘My mom’s crazy,’ he writes on February fifteenth. Alexandra replies, ‘my mom is always worrying about stuff, she nags me all the time. Dad is crazy.’ She doesn’t give any explanation for that comment, and Adam doesn’t ask.”

  Hannu paused and sipped his coffee before continuing. “On March fourteenth Adam asks Alexandra to send him a nude picture of herself. She doesn’t reply for ten minutes, then she writes: ‘Not today.’ Adam doesn’t suggest it again in the section I read.”

  Irene was writing fast, trying to keep up. When Hannu had finished, she went through her own notes from March 21 to the final contact on April 29. “I’ve made a list of key words. Here.” She showed them a sheet of A4 paper divided into three columns.

  “That’s a summary of the information we’ve managed to extract from four months of chat,” she said.

  Jonny and Hannu read through the list.

  “I’ll go and make some copies,” Hannu offered.

  Jonny and Irene took the opportunity to top off all three coffee mugs. When Hannu returned, they all studied the list in silence for several minutes.

  “The question is, how much of it is straight lies? Surely Adam must have unconsciously given away some information about himself that will give us a lead. Can you see anything?” Irene said.

  “Borås. That shithole turns up twice,” Jonny said right away.

  “No,” Hannu said.

  “Why not?” Irene asked.

  “He didn’t want to meet Alexandra until she was ripe for picking, so he chose somewhere that was quite a distance away and said he couldn’t come and see her because his leg was in plaster. By the way, did he ever say he’d had the cast taken off?”