SECRETS?
A Swedish Crime Novella
Stockholm Sleuth Series
Christer Tholin
Copyright © 2017 Christer Tholin
Stockholm, Sweden
[email protected]
www.christertholin.one
Translated by Doreen Zeitvogel
Title of the original German edition:
GEHEIMNISSE?
Published 2017
Cover design by Rob Williams
All rights reserved. You may not copy, distribute, transmit, reproduce or otherwise make available this publication or any parts of it without the prior written permission of the author. Any person who does any unauthorised act in relation to this publication may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages.
ISBN of the pocketbook:
ISBN: 1549586645
ISBN-13: 978-1549586644
This book is a work of fiction. All names, characters, places and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are use fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
For my daughter, Anabel
Contents
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
Thanks to the reader
About the author
MURDER?
PROLOGUE
July 2016
August 2016
1
The train rumbled into the underground station. Elin watched the platform, searching for the sign with the name of the stop: Rådhuset. So she had already made it to Kungsholmen, one of Stockholm’s central islands and where she lived. Just two more stops before she would have to get off, and from there it was barely ten minutes to her apartment. Another workweek ended, and as was so often the case, a pretty dull one at that. She hadn’t had much to do. Tobias, her boss, was out of the office most of the time, and she had had to sit at her desk and answer the phone. This was not at all what she had imagined.
For two years now, Elin had been working for a company called Secure Assist. She had only taken the job because in the beginning Tobias had promised her that, little by little, he would groom her to work in the field as a private investigator. Except that Tobias hadn’t yet asked her a single time, let alone given her an assignment. Luckily, Lars, one of the private detectives, had asked for her twice in the past year. Those had been amazing assignments, and they had given her a chance to prove herself. She had even solved the second case almost entirely by herself. Yes, to some extent she had forged ahead without authorization, but she knew exactly what would happen if she asked permission for every move. Someone else would get the assignment, or they would tell her it was all too risky. Still, her heart was set on this job: her great dream in life was to be a good detective. And her education was the perfect fit. She had graduated with an IT degree, and she was also an outstanding close-combat fighter. Add to that her intuition and exceptional creativity when it came to finding out information. But Tobias liked to bet on more conventional careers, in other words, people who had formerly worked as bodyguards or security personnel—or, even better, for the customs office or, like Lars, the police. Elin’s build may also have been an issue: she was small and slight, while Lars was close to 6’2”, with broad shoulders. Unfortunately, there was nothing Elin could do about that, so she tried to use forceful behavior to make up for her lack of stature. Then again, being small could sometimes be an asset—like when you needed to hide.
Two young men shoved past her to get to the two empty window seats in Elin’s section. Otherwise, the train was packed. And no wonder—it was rush hour on a Friday afternoon. Elin watched them. One was wearing earphones, with the cables tucked into his jacket pocket, and he was tapping his foot in time to the music that only he could hear. The other was holding a smartphone to his ear and talking about some newfangled program he absolutely had to buy. The train sped along as Elin’s thoughts returned to her problem. She was determined to get another assignment, preferably with Lars. Lars owed her, anyway. She’d already saved his ass twice: the first time, as he lay unconscious on the ground after an explosion and she’d hauled him out of the fire danger zone; and the second time, when two child abductors were threatening him with a rifle. Both operations had happened at the end of the previous year. Now it was almost summer, and since then she’d done nothing but sit in the office and, other than secretarial work, procured some information now and then. That left her seriously frustrated. Nothing had helped—not talks with Tobias or pleading with Lars. The answer was always the same: there were no suitable assignments. True, most of the jobs consisted of boring sentry duties or humdrum surveillances, but Elin would have preferred even those to the office.
Finally, Elin set herself a deadline: if her job showed no basic change for the better by the end of the year, she would hand in her notice. She had already started to implement a parallel plan and had registered her own company. In Sweden, that was easy to do, and within one hour she had filled out all the online forms and digitally signed and submitted them. Just a week later, her company was official. She had chosen the simplest form of business: everything was in her name and, aside from a small registration fee, had cost nothing since there was no need to contribute your own capital. So now she had her own company that covered all the functions of a private detective. Still, it wouldn’t be easy to run a business alongside her current job. According to her contract, all sidelines were subject to approval. Elin could probably ignore that: surely no one would notice, and anyway, what she did with her free time was her business. What weighed more heavily on her mind was that it was direct competition for Tobias’s company, and if that came out, it would be grounds for tossing her out on the street without notice. That also made it hard to advertise: she had to be sure that no one could trace the ads to her. She had already posted a couple using the simplest means, namely, several online platforms. She had done so without using either her own or her company’s name, and as a contact address, she had listed an email that bore no relation to her name and that was a Gmail account. The posts had been running for two weeks now, and she had constantly checked that account, but so far not a single inquiry had come through. The whole thing was more of a test flight, and she had no idea if she could actually swing an assignment. For one thing, it was highly competitive work, and it also depended on the type of job. After all, she couldn’t just disappear from the office and devote herself to that. As long as she could handle her business in the evenings and on weekends, it would be doable. But why worry if she hadn’t yet gotten a single request? What was that saying? Don’t trouble your head about problems you don’t yet have.
Elin’s thoughts turned to the coming weekend. Maja, her partner, was traveling. As a judo and karate instructor, she’d been asked to hold a weekend class in Copenhagen, so Elin found herself alone and without any plans. She had secretly hoped that a job request would come through after all, but nothing had materialized so far. Never mind—she’d come up with another idea.
As the train pulled in to the Stadshagen station, Elin grabbed her purse, rose, and pushed her way through to the door.
2
Elin awoke to a pounding head. Damn, that was way too much wine last night. She made a painful effort to sit. Her throat felt parched—why couldn’t she stop after two glasses? She desperately needed some aspirin. Still unsteady on her feet, she stood with care and walked to the bathroom. She rummaged around in the medicine chest and immediately took two tab
lets, drinking directly from the tap. As she straightened back up, she felt dizzy—everything around her was turning. She closed her eyes until the turning stopped.
Now back in the kitchen, Elin made herself an espresso. She was having a hard time thinking straight—filling the metal basket with grounds, pouring water into the receptacle, and placing the stovetop pot on the burner. She walked into the living room, where the empty wine bottle still stood on the table, along with a bag of cheese crisps. Where was her cell phone? And how late was it, anyway? There it was. The time was shortly after 10 a.m. The screen also showed some emails, including one from her new account. The subject line read “Inquiry.” Suddenly, Elin was wide awake and instantly clicked on the email. It had actually landed in her inbox the night before, and had Elin not succumbed to the wine, she never would have missed it.
A woman named Helena wanted her help with keeping an eye on her friend. She had included her phone number and asked for a return call. Elin could hear the water boiling in the espresso pot, so she hurried to the kitchen. Ouch, that was a little too fast—she felt ill. She took a deep breath and poured the coffee into a mug. She needed it badly now.
***
Elin marched up the stairs of the underground station and looked around. She needed to make a right, follow Vasagatan for a while, and then make another right at the corner of Kungsgatan. The cafe should be at the next corner.
Earlier, after downing the strong espresso, Elin had showered, dressed, and then tried out her voice before the mirror. Finally, she had called the prospective client, who suggested an afternoon meeting at the Vete-Katten, a cafe Elin had never heard of till now and that she had to google. It was close to T-Centralen, the main metro station, so it was easy to reach. Elin’s head felt better—at least, it no longer hurt—though she still felt slightly groggy. For lunch, she had eaten some toast. She couldn’t manage anything else, but the toast had done her good. The nausea was gone, and now she had only a minor case of heartburn. Maybe she could risk having a piece of cake at the cafe. It still baffled her that she’d let herself go like that. Normally, that wasn’t her style at all, though she had to confess that Maja usually held her back from such idiocy. And if Maja had been drinking with her, they would obviously have shared the wine, and Elin would have drunk only half a bottle. But the wine had tasted so good. And besides, she had felt all alone and wasn’t considering the consequences. Then there was her frustration over an unrewarding workweek, and in the end she found herself with an empty bottle. She had staggered first to the bathroom and then to bed. How did the saying go? God punishes small sins at once? Yup, today He had struck—right when she’d gotten a chance at landing her first independent assignment.
Elin pulled open the door to the Vete-Katten (the name means “Wheat Cat”) and walked up the small flight of steps immediately behind it. The counter for ordering cakes and drinks was located straight ahead. The tables stood to the right and left in the large L-shaped room. Helena had said she would bring a conspicuous red purse, and Elin could only hope that she hadn’t placed it under the table, or she would have to walk around the entire place searching for it. No, that had to be it. In a corner to the left on a small table stood a bright-red handbag, and behind it sat a woman whose blonde hair was tied back in a ponytail and who was absorbed in her smartphone.
Elin walked up to her: “Excuse me, are you Helena?”
The woman looked up and smiled. “Yes, exactly. And you must be Elin.” She offered Elin her hand as she scrutinized her.
Elin hoped that her make-over measures would be enough to hide her hungover state. “Nice to meet you. I’ll get myself a quick coffee. Can I bring you anything?”
“No, thanks. I still have some.” Sitting before Helena was a half-full cup of coffee and a slice of Budapest roll that she had already begun eating.
Elin turned and walked to the counter. Her gaze drifted across the offerings. Oh my, this was truly tempting. Did she dare order a piece of princess cake? Better not. That much whipped cream and marzipan would be too much for her stomach just yet. Instead, she’d have a Kanelbulle. The yeasty dough and light cinnamon filling should do her no harm. She would have a latte as well.
Once she had paid, Elin carried her tray to the table, being careful to keep it balanced. Helena made room by removing her purse and setting her coffee to the side. Elin examined her closely. She was in her late thirties and good-looking, with understated makeup and a stylish outfit that included a white blouse and a light-blue blazer over it. Her jewelry was certainly not of the costume variety: tasteful earrings set with small gemstones, probably diamonds; a gold necklace with a small pendant that matched the earrings; and a wide bracelet, also made of gold. Helena was obviously well off.
“It’s terrific that we could meet so soon, and on a Saturday no less,” she said, looking at Elin expectantly.
“No problem.” Elin took a sip of her coffee. “Should we get right to it, or would you like to know a bit more about me first?” During the phone call that morning, she had already briefly told Helena about her education and her experience with regard to detective work, though she’d neglected to mention her official position at Secure Assist.
“I think I’ll get straight to it and tell you what this is all about.” Helena had another piece of cake and then started recounting her story. “I’m worried about my boyfriend, Markus. I’ve grown somewhat suspicious, since for some time now he’s been spending a lot of his free time on the road and is apparently not telling me the truth about his activities.”
“How do you know he’s not telling you the truth?”
“Well, perhaps I’m wrong about that, but there was at least one time when his story wasn’t true. He told me he was meeting a friend, but then I saw that same friend at the shopping center. And there was absolutely no trace of Markus.”
“And what did Markus have to say about it?”
“I, uh ... didn’t dare ask him. I figured that if there were another woman, he would be unlikely to tell me the truth to begin with, and in the future he would be even more careful. So I kept my suspicions to myself and continued to watch.”
“And? Were there more inconsistencies?”
“Nothing obvious. I had a hard time verifying anything. He mostly told me that he had to work. But what I noticed was ... Are you familiar with the iPhone app that lets you track your friends’ locations?”
Elin nodded.
“We gave each other access through the app some time ago so that we could each see where the other was at any given time. Normally, I rarely used it except, for instance, when I had to wait somewhat longer for him. But after the story with his friend, I started checking more regularly on his whereabouts. During the day, I could always see him, and his locations definitely had to do with his work. But in the evenings, he would disappear from the app. Maybe he lost the connection, but it seems more likely that he changed the app setting to make himself invisible for those periods.”
“What kind of work does your boyfriend do?” Elin’s brain was about as malleable as frozen playdough—it was a real strain for her to follow along. She was glad to have at least come up with the question.
“He’s a real estate broker. That’s why he spends a lot of time driving around Stockholm, even though he finds most of his properties in the south.”
“And how long does he disappear from the app?”
“That’s what I find the strangest of all. In every instance, he was invisible for several hours.”
“But you haven’t approached him about that, either?”
Helena hesitated, then took another sip of coffee. “No. Just once. I had dinner waiting for him, and he was already over an hour late. I couldn’t reach him with my cell phone, and when he showed up on the app again, he was already on his way home, and it was just fifteen minutes before he arrived. When I asked him about it, he acted somewhat annoyed and accused me of being controlling. I denied that, of course, and explained that it was only because of
the dinner that I wanted to see if he was in the area. He calmed down a bit after that, but that was reason enough for me to not broach the subject again. On the other hand, his reaction made me even more suspicious.”
“But you still received no explanation for his disappearance on the app?”
“Actually, I did. He claimed his battery had died and that he hadn’t noticed until he was in the car and had plugged in his phone to charge it. I obviously can’t verify that, but when he’s on the road for his work, he’s supposed to be reachable at all times. That’s why I don’t fully believe his explanation, since he was invisible for more than two hours.”
“I see. And you’re guessing there’s another woman lurking in the background.” Elin looked at Helena, who nodded. “Do you have any additional, concrete signs of that?”
Helena cast her eyes downward. “No, I can’t say that I do.”
Somehow Elin had the impression that there was more to tell. “Has your boyfriend’s behavior at home changed at all?”
“Yes, actually,” Helena admitted, hesitating. “He’s often irritated, but he says it’s because of stress at work.”
“How long have you been together?”
“We’ve known each other four years and have lived together for almost three.”
Elin was pondering the best way of framing the next question, but she was still having trouble thinking clearly, so she simply let it spill: “How’s your sex life?”
Helena turned red and shifted uneasily back and forth on her chair. This was apparently an uncomfortable topic for her. Elin’s assessment had been right.
“To be honest, it’s been happening less often. But that’s normal—most relationships are like that.” Helena was avoiding Elin’s gaze. “What bothers me is that it’s been a long time since Markus has seemed especially interested in physical contact, if you know what I mean.”
Secrets? Page 1
