Cinderella Girl (29 page)

‘And how would you define sexual harassment?’ he asked, with stoic calm.

‘Well, in this case it’s rather simple,’ said Malmberg with a joyless smile that revealed a perfect row of teeth. ‘Do I
need to describe the content of that e-mail to the police commissioner?’

‘Not at all,’ Sjöberg replied. ‘I’m thinking like this: Let’s say that a high-level superior calls a female employee – who is in a subordinate position – into his office, and entices her with a reservation, already made, to one of Stockholm’s best restaurants and a room at the city’s finest hotel. When she says no, he tries to pull her on to his lap and caresses her behind. Would you characterize that as sexual harassment?’

‘Of course, Sjöberg,’ laughed Malmberg, ‘but that never happened.’

‘And if I can prove it?’ Sjöberg continued, and Petra could almost see sparks flying from him now. ‘You can tell the police commissioner from me that I have confirmation from Mathias Dahlgren that there was a table reserved by Brandt for eight o’clock yesterday evening. And I have confirmation from Grand Hotel that Brandt reserved a double room there yesterday, and that it was cancelled at the same time as the restaurant reservation.’

A raised eyebrow was all that revealed that Malmberg had not been prepared for this. Petra held her breath as she followed the exchange.

‘And I should thank you for this, Petra,’ said Sjöberg, now suddenly waving the MP3 player. ‘It was prudent of you to have it turned on. It will come in handy at the hearings.’

Suddenly she realized what he was up to and a broad smile spread across her face, still leaning back in the chair with her hands behind her neck. The only thing to do was play along.

‘No problem, Conny. You can take care of it for now.’

‘What do you mean, hearings?’ asked Malmberg.

His neutral facial expression had suddenly shifted to something more human.

‘What Westman and I were just discussing,’ Sjöberg answered calmly. ‘We intend to file a report against the police commissioner for sexual harassment. There are also clear elements of abuse of authority as well, which we think we may pursue further.’

Petra listened attentively, completely taken by surprise by Sjöberg’s initiative.

‘I knew nothing about this,’ said Malmberg, starting towards the door. ‘I’ll have to talk to the police commissioner and hear what he says.’

‘Tell Roland I’m sorry if I offended him,’ said Petra, strengthened by Sjöberg’s priceless improvisation.

Malmberg suddenly stopped and turned towards them with a decisive look.

‘I suggest we agree that this conversation never took place,’ he said. ‘I feel sure that the police commissioner will share my understanding.’

‘I haven’t heard a thing,’ said Sjöberg with a wink in Petra’s direction. ‘And I haven’t seen any provocative e-mail either,’ he added to be on the safe side.

‘Deal,’ muttered Malmberg.

‘By the way, Gunnar,’ Sjöberg added. ‘Brandt promised to give Sandén’s daughter a trial as an assistant in reception. Please see to it that that’s done.’

‘Sure,’ answered the deputy police commissioner resignedly and he left the office.

‘Before you tell me how it went with Göran Andersson, I just want to say one thing,’ Hamad began when he met Sjöberg at Skanstull. ‘So that it doesn’t drown in other interesting facts like last time.’

Sjöberg nodded attentively.

‘I think we dismissed the suspicions against Sören Andersson far too casually. When Joakim’s father showed up in the investigation, we focused all our attention on him. There’s nothing strange about that, but I just want to point out that we’re not through with Sören Andersson. That’s all I wanted to say.’

‘You’re very right, Jamal. Elise was up to no good last Friday and now we’re going to talk to her about that. This time we won’t give up until she tells us the whole truth.’

Once again they made their way to the Johansson family apartment at Ringen, while Sjöberg briefly recounted how the conversation with Göran Andersson had developed.

Elise was in bed, fully clothed under the covers, listening to music on her iPod. She had earphones on and did not hear when they knocked, so they stepped into the room unannounced. Hamad closed the door behind them to dampen the commotion from the kitchen and living room where life went on as usual. Elise sat up with a start, giving them a somewhat harried look. Sjöberg thought her eyes looked red and wondered whether reality had finally caught up with her.

‘Hi, Elise. Here we are again,’ said Sjöberg apologetically, throwing out his arms.

Elise pulled the earphones out and started tapping on her iPod. She did not answer, but reached for her cigarettes
while she got out of bed. Then she sank down on the floor with her back against one of the cupboards. Hamad did the same, but Sjöberg considered himself too old for such things and sat down on the only chair in the room.

‘Now we want to hear what really happened last Friday night,’ said Sjöberg. ‘We know more or less what you were doing, but we’d like to hear it in your own words.’

‘Has he –?’ Elise began, but stopped herself.

‘Has who?’ Sjöberg echoed encouragingly.

‘Has anyone said anything?’

‘Someone has said something, yes. But now I want to hear you say it.’

‘Say what?’

‘What you were doing last Friday. We know you’re not doing too well right now, Elise, but you have to talk. It’s important. We think you can help us find the person who murdered Jennifer.’

She tapped a cigarette out of the pack and put it in her mouth. Sjöberg tossed her a box of matches from the desk, and no one said anything until she had lit her cigarette.

‘I’m just so scared,’ she said with a sigh, and for the first time she looked Sjöberg in the eyes without immediately turning away.

There was silence for a few seconds before she continued.

‘I know you’re going to think I’m a slut, but I was drunk and stupid and … Well, I guess it’s genetic,’ she said, nodding towards the door. ‘But I am never, ever going to do it again. I’ve learned that at least.’

Then Elise finally told them. It felt liberating. She was ashamed of her story, but it was still good to get it out. As if some of the shame released its hold on her. She told them how she and Jennifer had been sitting there on the kitchen floor, with their mother and her friends carrying on in the background, smoking and drinking. How they had chatted about this and that, nothing important, just keeping each other company.

As she painted the picture of how she and her big sister had spent their last moments together, it suddenly became so clear to her. The loss of someone to share this fate, her childhood with, hit her like a kick in the gut. She felt the tears welling up in her eyes and the words sticking in her throat, but she didn’t care. It was so nice just to share her thoughts with someone. So she talked, while the tears streamed down her cheeks. She told them how the intoxication had put her in a good mood, made her strong and brave. How on that final evening she had unexpectedly got to borrow her sister’s new leather jacket, how she had met Nina down on the street, Nina who had money and who whispered and pointed out the ‘paedophile’ to her, the disgusting old man who groped little girls. She told them how she had gone up to him and made her idiotic offer. Which she would regret for the rest of her life.

She walked three steps behind him all the way to the car park at Bjurholmsplan, where he had left his car, a dirty white Opel. He unlocked the door on his side and got into the driver’s seat, then leaned over to the passenger door and opened it for her. She looked around before she got into the car, as if to make sure that no one noticed them and understood what they were going to do
.

Elise felt exhilarated and wild. It was one of those divinely inspired intoxications where all the barriers come down and the rules loosen up and become meaningless. She imagined that this was how it felt to do drugs; it was like you put yourself outside your real self, become immortal and just live life here and now. She was bubbling inside. He drove silent and resolute through lively blocks, single-mindedly headed towards more deserted areas. She tried to talk to him, but he was taciturn and uninterested. Asked what he was going to do over the weekend; she was going to Åbo on Viking Line, she lied to make herself interesting, but he wasn’t going to do anything, didn’t want to talk about anything. She studied him covertly as he drove with his eyes rigidly fixed on the street ahead of them. How old could he be? Fifty maybe, or seventy? Hard to say: he was an old man anyway. Not clean. Greasy hair hung down over his ears and he had an unfashionable old man’s jacket on. His hands on top of the steering wheel were skinny and hairy. His profile was okay, but the skin on his face had large pores, and it was greasy too
.

He turned on to a side street. On one side were several slumbering houses with the lights turned off, and on the other a number of sweet little allotment cabins. It was calm and deserted; there was no one out and about at this time of day. In the turning area where Vitabergsparken started he stopped and turned off the engine. When the car lights were turned off it became almost completely dark around them. Elise did not know what to do. The situation was completely new to her, but she did not want to appear inexperienced. He turned slowly towards her and looked at her with empty eyes. Not at her face; his gaze swept across her body
.

‘
The money first,’ she managed to say
.

Her heart was pounding in her chest, but for some reason she did not feel the least bit afraid. He did as she said and pulled the wallet out of the inside pocket of his jacket, took two hundred-kronor bills out and put them in her outstretched hand. She quickly put them in her jacket pocket while he set the wallet down by the gearstick, between
them. She followed his hand with her eyes and it came towards her and settled on her bare thigh. He moved it a few times up and down along her leg and she heard him begin to breathe more intensely
.

‘
How old are you?’ he asked
.

‘
Sixteen,’ Elise lied, not really knowing why
.

‘
What’s your name?
’

‘
Jennifer,’ she answered, as if to further confirm her age
.

‘
Pull up your sweater,’ he ordered her, and she did as she was told
.

‘
Turn this way,’ he said, and she turned towards him
.

It felt stupid to just sit there, with her sweater up to her neck, and watch as the strange man started touching himself outside his trousers to the sound of heavy breathing. She remained sitting like that for several minutes and she did not move an inch during that time. Then he unbuttoned his trousers and pulled down his zip, then raised himself up a little on the seat and with some effort pulled his trousers and pants down to his knees. This was a strange sight: a man exposing himself in a dark car and she herself beside him with bare breasts
.

‘
Take off your knickers and sit so I can see you,’ he ordered her
.

Elise wriggled the knickers off under her skirt and put them in her pocket. She crawled up with both feet on the seat and legs tight together, but his hand was there at once prying her knees apart. She stayed seated that way, with her back resting uncomfortably against the door and her legs parted, while he started stroking himself back and forth and moaning as if he were in pain. He wanted to touch her and again and again his free hand groped between her legs. But Elise stuck to her guns and pushed his hand away each time
.

‘
Not that,’ she said firmly
.

‘
What the hell?’ he complained, while his hand worked faster and faster and the expressionless, introverted gaze fixed on her crotch
.

Elise thought he was repulsive with his nasty moaning and she tried to think about something other than the image of herself together
with that creep. Her eyes moved from his hard dick and the hairy hand’s rhythmic movements to the wallet lying there at her feet. It would be so easy, she thought, just to take it and run away. With her head start she would be gone by the time he got his trousers on and ran after her or got the car started
.

Now his moans were louder and more drawn out. She realized that it was almost over and just as it started squirting, her hand was there grabbing the wallet. Before he could react she had the door open and was on her way out of the car. She did not bother to slam the car door behind her, just took to her heels and ran, ran for all she was worth
.

‘
You little whore!’ she heard from inside the car behind her. ‘What the hell are you doing? I’m going to
…’

That was the last thing she heard him say. She ran and ran and not until she was a fair distance away did she hear a car engine gunning. The tyres squealed and the car thudded; maybe he drove into a lamp post or something. Then it was quiet. Before she disappeared around the street corner she turned around and looked back at him one last time. Now he was out of the car and looked as if he intended to chase after her on foot. But she was faster. After a span of time that felt like an eternity, a car, a green Toyota, came slowly from a cross street, and she rushed out in front of it and waved her arms at the astonished driver who stopped the car. She banged hard on the window on the passenger side and pulled open the door
.

‘
You have to give me a ride; I’m in a hurry to get home!’ she commanded breathlessly, throwing herself on to the seat and pulling the door shut
.

The driver eyed her curiously without making any move to do as he was told
.

‘
Just drive, damn it!’ she screamed, surprised at her own assertiveness
.

‘
Well, well,’ the man sighed, letting the car start to roll. ‘So what do I get for it?
’

‘
I’ll show you my pussy, you dirty old man!’ Elise screamed, creeping up in the seat in the way she had just done, with legs parted and with no knickers on under her skirt
.