Closed Circles (Sandhamn Murders Book 2) (25 page)

S
UNDAY, THE FOURTH WEEK

C
HAPTER
72

Nora surveyed the files covering the living room table. The evening before, she’d stacked them into different piles. She’d even put some on the sofa when she ran out of room on the table. She sorted them again, but no new pattern emerged.

She sighed as she reached for her teacup. There was nothing to discover. She might as well give up.

The weather was drizzly and chilly. Despite Nora encouraging the boys to get some fresh air, they stayed in their room playing computer games.

But that wasn’t
her
problem. She took a deep breath and tried to make herself as clear as possible without being downright rude.

The boys pounded down the stairs in search of a snack. They asked for cinnamon buns, and Nora went into the kitchen to get them. They watched to make sure they got the exact same amount as she poured glasses of chocolate milk.

She noticed how much Adam had grown over the summer. He now stood a head taller than Simon and already came up to her chest. Before long, he’d be a teenager with acne and all other things in his head that would push his mother to one side.

As the boys compared glasses, an idea came to Nora. She hadn’t sorted the bankruptcy files by size. She’d never considered the amounts of money involved in the cases, not even yesterday evening when she’d tried to see them in a new way.

She ordered the boys to stay at the kitchen table while they ate their snack, then she hurried back to the living room to explore her latest idea.

It took her almost an hour to sort the files from the largest to the smallest amount of money. By then Adam and Simon had eaten their snacks and gone back to their computer games. Their glasses sat on the counter, crumbs everywhere.

Nora didn’t have time to care. Instead, she looked at her work with satisfaction. The difference in amounts was striking.

A mixture of IT companies, travel agencies, and other larger companies made up the first group, with losses in the hundreds of millions or more.

The next category held a wide variety of companies with bankruptcies spanning sixty to seventy million kronor. Juliander often acted as the sole attorney for these cases. The businesses ranged from construction to consulting firms. Many were family owned or involved just a few partners who’d started them.

Finally there were those with losses of twenty to thirty million kronor. These businesses also varied. One was a temp service company that hadn’t survived the latest downturn. Others were small IT companies.

One last case stood out. A dental practice with a turnover of just four million kronor, it was remarkably smaller than the others Juliander had taken on.

Why get involved in such a small case when he was already well established as a big-time attorney who could pick and choose his work?

Nora sat down to study the file.

The company was Olof Martinsson Dental Practice.

According to the report, Olof Martinsson had been the sole owner. He employed a nurse and a hygienist. Going over the math quickly in her head, Nora thought his income could have easily covered rent, equipment, and three salaries.

Why had the company gone bankrupt? Dentists rarely did. He had a well-established practice, so it seemed unlikely he’d have a sudden downturn in business.

Nora kept reading. Martinsson had taken out large loans against his practice. In the end, he couldn’t make the payments, and his assets went into bankruptcy.

Why did he need such large loans? Where had all that money gone?

When Nora went through the list of creditors, she found her own bank had loaned him the largest amount. The loan was high compared to the amount of money the practice brought in. No bank would normally agree to such an off-kilter transaction.

Nora wrinkled her brow.

Something was fishy here. Tomorrow she’d investigate with her bank’s credit department and ask a few questions. Perhaps they could explain why they’d agreed to such a large loan.

M
ONDAY, THE FIFTH WEEK

C
HAPTER
73

Thomas’s sneeze echoed through the hallway of the station. He’d forced himself to stay home that morning, but he didn’t have time to be sick. He needed to work. A killer was on the loose.

“What are you doing here?” Margit asked as he came into her office. “You look terrible.”

It was hard to tell if she was offering sympathy or simply stating facts.

Thomas looked at her with watery eyes.

“I don’t have a fever anymore. Believe me.”

“Just stay away. I don’t want to get sick.”

Thomas sneezed again.

“Where are we?” he asked.

“Do you want anything? A cup of tea?”

Thomas smiled. “Sure, thanks.”

Margit brought back two mugs and looked at him with a mixture of compassion and resignation.

“Are you sure you want to be here?”

“Let’s drop it. Where are we?”

“Linköping called. They’ve analyzed the bullet found in Nyrén’s head.”

Thomas frowned, and she nodded right away to confirm his suspicions.

“It came from the same rifle that killed Juliander. A Marlin. Right rifled. With twenty grooves,” she said.

They both knew what this meant, but Thomas said it out loud: “So we have a double murder.”

“Looks that way.”

Thomas tried to collect his thoughts, but it felt like he had cotton between his ears.

“One link is obvious,” Margit said. “Someone out there really dislikes members of the RSYC Board. And if our suspicions are wrong about Ingmar von Hahne, he could be the next victim.”

Thomas nodded. The thought that von Hahne could be their prime suspect or the next victim plagued him.

“Anything else from Linköping?”

“Not much. But that Bäcklund woman can really talk your ear off. She kept going on and on.”

Thomas remembered Bäcklund vividly.

“By the way, I asked Eva Timell this morning about any possible connection between Juliander and Nyrén,” Margit said.

“Anything?”

“No. She didn’t recall any. They didn’t even have an e-mail exchange beyond general messages from the RSYC.”

“What about Nyrén’s computer?”

“Nothing yet. The tech guys haven’t contacted me.”

“Should we lean on them?”

“Sure. I’ll call.”

Thomas was grateful for his tea, though he still felt chilled and had a terrible headache.

“You should go home,” Margit said. “You don’t look well at all.”

Margit’s tone left no room for a refusal.

Thomas surrendered.

“All right.”

C
HAPTER
74

“We haven’t made a decision yet,” Nora said.

It was the fifth time Severin had called since the showing.

“When do you think you will?” he asked. He came off as pushy and worried at the same time. “I don’t want to pressure you, but it would be great to move forward, if you get my drift.”

Nora got his drift exactly.

He wanted the house sold so he’d get his fat commission and could move on to the next property.

But that wasn’t
her
problem. She took a deep breath and tried to make her words as firm as possible.

“I don’t know. This house means a great deal to me, and I want it to be in good hands.” Nora heard the vagueness in her voice but didn’t know what else to say.

“Of course,” Severin said. “It’s not always easy to decide. You’ve got to think through the pros and cons. But you must know these buyers are serious about preserving the house as a cultural treasure.”

One cliché after another from the agent’s mouth. His sticky, sweet words flowed like honey.

I wonder if he knows what he’s saying, or is he just young and naïve?
she thought. She recalled that horrible woman who’d looked down on Signe’s furniture as if it were something the cat dragged in.

She forced herself to be polite.

“I think it would be better in the future if
we
called
you
. We don’t want to waste your time, and it might be a while . . .”

She suddenly felt sorry for the young man. This sale would be a career milestone for him if it happened.

“Oh, don’t worry about that,” Severin said. “I don’t mind calling. But I had something else to tell you and your husband.”

“I see,” Nora said.

“The buyers want me to tell you that they’ve raised their offer.”

“Raised their offer?”

“That’s right. They’ll add another million kronor, but they want you to decide by Saturday.”

Thoughts whirled in Nora’s head.

Make up her mind by Saturday? The last day of her summer vacation? She and Henrik hadn’t even talked it through yet, and the tension between them continued to grow.

“One million?” Nora repeated.

Severin had said those words as if talking about Monopoly money. One more million to buy Broadway. Do not pass go. It was just a game.

“This is so exciting!” the agent said. “I’ve never been part of a deal like this. But anything can happen with such a unique piece of property. This must be seen as an offer you can’t refuse!”

I can’t?
Nora thought.
You have no idea what I can refuse! But if I do, will it cost me my marriage? Can you buy happiness with a Chance card?

“Have you mentioned this to my husband?” she asked.

“No, should I?”

“Oh, no, no, no,” Nora said. “We’re still discussing it all. I just wondered if you had.” She took a deep breath. “I’ll call you in a few days.”

“Remember, the offer is good only until Saturday, as I said. A bird in the hand . . .”

Severin didn’t need to finish his sentence. She knew the cliché.

Nora put down the phone. A second later, she picked it up again. She had planned to call the credit office of her bank.

She tapped in the number, and when the receptionist answered she asked to be transferred to the credit department. If she remembered correctly, they were two floors down from her own office.

A cheerful female voice answered on the third ring.

Nora gave her name and what she needed to know. She added the file number of the dental practice and then waited on the line. A few minutes later, Nora was told that everything had been transferred to the central archives. However, the woman gave her the name of Niklas Larsson, who had overseen their side of the bankruptcy. He would contact Nora. He knew all about it.

Nora left her cell phone number for him and thanked the woman who had helped her.

Then she simply sat with the file on her lap, pondering it all. There was definitely something fishy about this.

Why would Juliander accept such a small-time bankruptcy proceeding?

T
UESDAY, THE FIFTH WEEK

C
HAPTER
75

Thomas woke at noon on Tuesday. Almost half a day had passed, but he felt much better. His nose no longer ran, and his head didn’t ache. His body started feeling normal again. He’d slept for almost fifteen hours.

Just like Persson, he’d suffered a real summer cold. That much was clear.

For the first time in days, he had an appetite, so he made a huge breakfast: coffee, Swedish soured milk with muesli, and some sandwiches. Then he took a long, hot shower before getting dressed.

It was two in the afternoon by the time he left for work, but he felt good, and he wanted to get back to the investigation. He got his car keys and headed out the door for the drive to the Nacka police station.

Nora didn’t hear back from the credit department until Tuesday after lunch. By then she had almost forgotten about it. The weather had improved, so she and the boys had headed out to Fläskberget to swim.

The boys loved to run down the pontoon dock at full speed and leap into the water. They could do it nonstop. Nora had a vague memory of doing the same when she was small, but now she preferred to stay on land. She no longer liked having her head underwater, especially when that water was cold.

At Fläskberget, she met up with some other mothers who lived in the neighborhood. They sat together, keeping an eye on the children while chatting away. Nora felt herself begin to relax in this circle of friends who’d known each other for years. They shared a little harmless gossip. The news of another murder victim from the RSYC Board weighed on everybody’s mind. Since nobody knew him well, they felt free to speculate.

Still, thinking about a man’s death made them uncomfortable. It felt both surreal and close to home.

Nora’s cell phone rang as she and the boys arrived home. She saw it was someone from the bank. Holding the phone in her hand, she went out to the veranda and sat in one of the wicker chairs.

Niklas Larsson politely introduced himself. He’d pulled the file
from the central archives to assist her. It sat on the desk in front of
him now.

To avoid explaining her interest in the file, she got right to the point.

“I have looked at the loan picture and wonder why the debtor was granted a significantly higher loan than normal.” She tried to make the inquiry seem routine.

“That’s correct,” he said. “It’s a sad story. Do you know anything about Olof Martinsson?”

“No,” Nora said. “Not much.” She pulled a footstool closer and put her feet up.

“He was not just a dentist. He was also an innovative biochemist. Have you heard of the Brånemark Method?”

Nora thought back. Yes, one of the department secretaries had talked about her mother losing teeth, and the name Brånemark had come up.

“I know a little bit, but please tell me more.”

“It’s a technique for fastening replacement teeth into the jawbone. A Swedish professor had developed it in the sixties, but Martinsson thought he could improve on it. Unfortunately, he didn’t succeed. He invested all his money, convinced it would work out. He was fanatical about it.”

“Is that why the bank loaned him so much—probably more than they should have?”

“Yes and no. It’s true that we granted the loan even though his collateral was doubtful, but the income from his dental practice seemed secure. That definitely reassured the loan committee.”

“But it didn’t work out?”

“No, he needed to borrow more and more to finish his research. Finally we had to pull the plug. He’d mortgaged his house and everything he owned, but it was not enough.”

“What happened after that?”

“If I remember correctly, he couldn’t secure any more financing. He was so disappointed and embittered that he let his dental practice fall apart. Finally he couldn’t make the payments on the loan any longer. One thing led to another, and his practice went bankrupt.”

“What is he doing now?”

“He had a heart attack and died shortly after the bankruptcy concluded. He couldn’t handle the disappointment, I guess. Tragic. It’s not easy to be an inventor in Sweden.”

“And we lost our money, I assume,” Nora said.

She leaned back in the wicker chair while waiting for his reply. She could feel a slight headache starting, but she did her best to ignore it. Probably too much sun. She should drink more water.

Niklas Larsson laughed in embarrassment on the other end.

“Yes, well, most of it. There wasn’t much value in the practice anymore. We had to write most of it off.”

Nora thought about all this information and thanked him for his help.

She decided to devote one more hour to the investigation, and then that would be it. She wasn’t getting paid for all this work.

Inside, she turned on her computer and did a search for
Brånemark
.

The technique used small titanium screws to attach the implanted tooth firmly into the jawbone. Once bone absorbed and anchored the screws, the new teeth were firmly attached. This way patients no longer needed dentures. The patented invention was used all over the world.

Then she searched for
Olof Martinsson
and
dentist
. She found an obituary published in a professional dentistry magazine. She clicked on it with rising interest.

Olof Martinsson was described as a highly capable and dedicated lone wolf who had come within a hair’s breadth of an important breakthrough. His research had earned him a patent for a so-called growth factor that was way ahead of the Brånemark method. A protein skin on each titanium screw sped up the healing process and significantly improved the absorption of the screw by the bone. The author wrote that this process could have been utilized in other procedures, like healing blood vessels during surgery, or even bringing the edges of wounds together.

If the method had been developed to its full potential.

Martinsson never had the chance to finish the clinical trials needed for scientific approval, a prerequisite for worldwide use of the patent.

According to the obituary, financial problems broke Martinsson. With no wife or children, he’d put his entire life into his research. When it was taken from him, his body gave up.

It was a sorrowful, bitter obituary. So many years of work with no reward. How sad that he’d been so close when his business, which owned the patent, had gone bankrupt.

So what had happened to that patent?

She reached for the Martinsson file. There was a list of debts and assets. A patent was mentioned that was worth one hundred thousand kronor at the most. This must be the one Martinsson had invested his life in.

In the report made six months after the proceedings, Nora found a small paragraph about the patent. It sold to an American company for one hundred thousand kronor a few months later.

One hundred thousand kronor. Its exact valuation. A small sum for so many years of work and so many millions of Swedish kronor invested. The work of one whole lifetime.

That’s still too much money to pay for an allegedly worthless patent,
Nora thought. The buyer wasn’t noted, but it should be in Juliander’s own file.

The court had appointed Juliander at the request of a small creditor, an American company. Nora had a vague sense of recognition when it came to the name: General Mind Inc. Wasn’t that a large biomedical company listed on the stock market?

A foreign company requested to have Juliander, an established lawyer who usually handled much larger bankruptcies than this, appointed as the bankruptcy attorney.

Why?

And which American company had bought the patent? Was it also General Mind Inc.?

Lots of interesting questions here. Time to call Thomas and tell him what she’d found out. He could request all documentation on the Martinsson bankruptcy from the Kalling law firm.

That would make for some interesting reading.