'Bielke killed Beatrice,' said Winter. 'He hasn't admitted it yet but it's written between the lines of the letter to his wife, and if we ask him again he'll tell us.' He puffed at his cigarillo then looked round the room again. 'He'll tell us now. Once he's heard what happened tonight.'
'Why?' asked Setter, playing the role of interrogator, trying to find out how and why. 'And how?'
'We know that Bielke took part in the ... activities at the house. We haven't found anybody there, but we know. We've seen.' He thought about Halders again, could see that Djanali was thinking about Halders. Halders must have seen. 'We know that Beatrice was there. We don't know why, but we can guess. More than guess. Beatrice was there five years ago, shortly before she died.'
'But why did Bielke kill her?' Setter asked again.
For Christ's sake! thought Djanali. Tell us why people kill one another so that we know once and for all and the world becomes a paradise. Bielke killed her because he's an evil person, or a sick person, perhaps there's a link. It wasn't enough to see her behind a pane of glass. He wanted more than that.
She heard Winter answering Setter's question.
'Maybe that wasn't his intention. Maybe one thing led to another. The man's sick.'
Like his son, if it is his son, Djanali thought. Like father, like son.
But the most important thing was Fredrik.
'As far as I can see there's only one reason why we're all sitting here now, and that's finding Fredrik,' she said. 'So: what is there about what has happened now that can help us to find him?'
'That is what we're talking about,' said Setter.
'Oh yes?'
'It's all interlinked, surely? What did Halders see in that house that was so compromising that he had to disappear?'
'And Samic,' said Bergenhem. 'Why has he disappeared?'
'There's another big question,' said Winter with a glance at Djanali, possibly slightly apologetic. 'Did Bielke rape his own daughter? Or did Mattias do it?'
'Raped his own sister?' said Sara Helander. 'Or half sister.'
'He might not have known at the time,' Ringmar said. 'Presuming that is what happened.'
'If Mattias murdered Angelika and Anne, he could well have done something like that,' said Setter. 'But I say it again: why?'
A punishment, Winter thought. Mattias was punishing them for something. For something they'd done. What had they done? Danced, perhaps. Possibly more. How did Mattias know about that? Had somebody told him? Why should Mattias bother about it? Had he been there himself? Had he been there himself? Had he seen Kurt Bielke? Had he seen ... his daughter? Had she been there? No. Or ... been there without her father knowing? Had Bielke done something that resulted in his daughter being raped? Somebody who was punishing him} Via his daughter? Somebody who had a ... hold on him. Who knew what he'd done.
Beatrice five years ago. Beatrice who'd been there. Others who'd been there. Samic had been there. Samic. Where else had Samic been? With whom? There was a woman involved. Was she Mattias' mother?
Mattias had suffered in various ways. He was seeking attention and ... he was seeking the ones who were involved ... in the sinister game. The girls were involved in the game. Perhaps he thought they were responsible for what had happened to Jeanette and what had happened between the two of them. The girls ... but also Kurt Bielke. Did Mattias know what had happened to Beatrice? He hadn't murdered her, couldn't have done.
Mattias put the camera in Bielke's car. Mattias broke into the Hanssons' house looking for something that could expose Bielke. No. Somebody else. Samic? Had Samic known about the photographs of the bar?
Mattias could have killed Angelika's boyfriend because he might have known Mattias and started to suspect something.
When they searched Mattias's flat they would find the camera that had taken the pictures of the girls sitting in the bar, a camera with a damaged lens. They'd also find Anne Nojd's mobile phone.
All this flashed through his mind in the space of a few seconds.
Mattias might give them all the answers, or just add a few more questions. Bielke would talk, maybe too much.
Somebody said 'Samic'.
'What was that?'
'If we can find Samic, we'll find Fredrik as well,' Djanali said. Samic, Samic. Samic. Winter thought, thought, like everybody else.
It hadn't been possible to talk to Mattias. He was in a silent world of his own that Winter had not been able to break into.
Bielke had not yet confessed, but he would. He did talk, however. Asked about his daughter, never about his wife. His madness came and went in his eyes. Cohen and Winter tried to concentrate on what had happened in the house on the other side of the river the hour after Halders had entered it.
'I know nothing about that.'
'You were there after all,' said Winter.
Bielke suddenly looked him in the eye, and held his gaze. Bielke's forehead was throbbing as if his thoughts were about to burst out of it and spurt all over the table. Winter waited.
'You were there after all,' he said again, as calmly as he could.
'Yes,' said Bielke. 'Yes.'
That was the first time he'd admitted it.
'Where were you?' Winter asked.
'I was in the house.'
'Where in the house?'
'I was in the basement.'
Bielke's eyes had glazed over, or were in the process of doing so. He stumbled over syllables in a monotone. Weariness was setting in now that it was all over.
'Who else was in the basement?'
'Eh?'
'Who else was in the basement?'
'Her.'
'Who's her?'
'I dunno.'
'What's her name?'
'Dunno. A girl.'
'What did she do?'
'Eh?'
'What did she do?'
'Dan ... danced.'
'What did she dance?'
Bielke didn't understand. That was the only dance as far as he was concerned, and he didn't think of it as a dance anyway. It was just a name, an expression.
'What kind of a dance was it?' Winter asked.
'Dunno.'
'Was she dancing alone?'
'Alone.'
'Who else was there?'
Bielke didn't answer. He seemed to be looking for somebody who wasn't there. There was only Winter and Cohen and a tape recorder and a video camera.
'Where's the boy?' asked Bielke out of the blue, raising his head.
'What boy?'
'The boy.'
'Mattias? Was Mattias there?' Winter asked.
'He's my boy,' he said.
'We know.'
Bielke nodded.
'Was he there?' asked Winter.
'I don't know.'
'Who else was there?'
Bielke said something that Winter couldn't hear.
'What did you say?'
Bielke muttered again.
'Can you repeat what you just said?'
'She was there as well.'
'Who's she?'
'She's been with him for ages. She took the boy with her. I didn't know at first.'
'Was Mattias in the house?'
'He used to help a bit. I saw him sometimes.' Bielke stared at the wall behind Winter. 'He didn't know then. Yet. About me. Who I was.'
'Did he see you?'
'Eh?'
'Did he see you?'
'No. I don't think so.'
You think wrong, Winter thought.
Bielke said something under his breath.
'Can you repeat what you just said?'
'Drove off with him,' said Bielke in a voice that once again sounded monotonous, flat.
'Drove off?' asked Winter. 'Drove off with whom?'
Bielke mumbled something but seemed to be thinking as well.
'Drove off with whom?' Winter repeated.
'Him who came.'
'Who came?'
'Him.'
'Who's him?'
'Dunn
o.'
'Who was driving when they left?'
'Eh?'
'Who was driving?'
Bielke looked as if he were thinking again. Looked as if he were making up his mind.
'Johan,' he said.
Johan Samic, Winter thought. Samic, Samic, Samic.
'He was the one who did it,' said Bielke in a louder voice, as if he was breathing out forcefully. 'Samic did it.'
'Did what?'
'My little girl.'
Bielke burst into tears.
Winter waited. The tape recorder spun round silently. Cohen looked at Bielke who now looked back. He dried his eyes with the back of his right hand.
'Hurt my little girl.'
'Jeanette?'
Bielke nodded.
'Can you repeat what you just said?'
'He hurt my Jeanette.'
'Why?'
Bielke sobbed, wiped his eyes again.
'He knew.'
'What did he know?'
Winter could feel something cold in the back of his head, like a chilly draught.
'He exploited it,' said Bielke. 'Me. And ... us.'
'What did he exploit?' asked Winter. 'What did Johan Samic exploit about you?'
Bielke seemed to drift away again, disappear into another world.
'What did Johan Samic know about you?' asked Winter.
'What I'd done.'
Bielke looked at Winter, his eyes a mixture of alertness and fog.
'He said he could do whatever he liked,' said Bielke.
'Why?' asked Winter.
Bielke muttered again.
'Why?' Winter repeated the question.
'Because I killed her.'
Bielke said that with his head bowed. His hair was the same pale colour as the walls of the room.
'Can you repeat what you just said?'
'I killed her.' He looked at Winter and Cohen. 'I didn't mean to. I just followed her. I didn't mean to. You know that. Everybody understands that.'
'Did you kill Angelika Hansson?' asked Cohen.
'Who?'
'Did you kill Angelika Hansson?'
'No, no. That wasn't me.'
'Did you kill Anne Nöjd?'
'Not me.'
Another snuffle from Bielke.
'Pardon?'
'He ... away. He was there later. Ask him.'
'I didn't get what you said just now,' Winter said.
'When they drove away. Ask Sarnic.'
'Ask what?'
'And Benny,' said Bielke. 'He was driving.'
'Be ... Benny?'
'Benny.'
'Benny who?'
'Benny. Benny boy.'
Winter was standing outside the interrogation room. His face was burning. He'd got to his feet immediately and left the room. Cohen stayed with Bielke.
Winter took the lift up to the room where Setter and Bergenhem were sifting through documentation of Samic's business transactions, past and present.
Bergenhem was there.
'I need a name,' said Winter. 'Benny. Benny Vennerhag.'
'Vennerhag?'
'Has Samic had any dealings with Benny Vennerhag?'
'I don't recognise the name.'
'Then look, FOR FUCK'S SAKE!' Winter yelled.
'Hey, calm down, calm down.'
Winter grabbed at the keyboard in front of Bergenhem.
'What the HELL are you doing, Erik? Give me a chance.' Bergenhem was tapping into the register of all the names they had so far.
'Yes,' he said. 'We've got the name here. I can't say if—'
'That's good enough,' said Winter and strode to his office. He met Ringmar. 'Come with me,' shouted Winter over his shoulder.
Ringmar followed Winter into his office and saw him picking through a pile of photographs.
'What's going on, Erik?'
Winter was holding the photograph taken at Angelika Hansson's graduation party. Lars-Olof Hansson behind the camera. In front of it: the woman in profile. He knew he would never meet her. Unless she came here now that Mattias was here.
The boy next to her.
A dark face that might be Johan Samic, might not.
For Christ's sake, it was Samic all right.
A fair-haired man, almost alongside him, with a beard and dark glasses. Lars-Olof Hansson hadn't recognised him either. There was something familiar about him. The beard looked a bit odd, the glasses ...
Winter looked at the other photograph, taken at about the same time by Cecilia, Angelika's friend who knew nothing about the house on the other side of the river. Couldn't have known about it, wouldn't have been able to cover it up unless she was out of her mind. They'd have another chat with her.
The woman, taken from directly in front. The boy wasn't in Cecilia's picture, he might have taken a step forward. That would explain it. The dark man was no longer there, but there were more people in this picture, more faces. He'd noticed that before.
He scrutinised the picture. Took out his magnifying glass again. Turned to the enlargements they'd made. Examined the first of them through the magnifying glass. Now he knew what he was looking for. That was the key difference. The photograph opened itself up as he looked and as he focused further into the mass of people, at the back, he could see a fair-haired head in profile, only the upper part of his face, a forehead, eyes, nose and nothing more, but he didn't need a magnifying glass to see who it was in the background, under a cloud of balloons. Benny.
He was wearing a false beard. Samic had a wig. An arrogant joke, or something much worse.
Never End Page 36
