Marked for Life (22 page)

CHAPTER
THIRTY-EIGHT

Tuesday, April 24

HENRIK LEVIN WRAPPED
his arms around himself against the cold. His down jacket wasn't much help. The merciless Baltic wind seemed to find its way through the zipper of his coat. He had tried to layer himself, but three hours out in the bitter cold had taken its toll. He looked around to see if there was anywhere he could seek shelter. Ahead of him lay the open sea, and the waves washed against the slippery rocks.

Brandö Island was as far out as you could go in Arkösund. The tourist boats flanked the idyllic spot in the summer and the archipelago line passed close by. Now those summer months felt far away.

His scarf fluttered in the wind and Henrik wound it yet another time round his neck keep out the draft. He contemplated sitting in the car and looked across to the cordoning tape where a total of fifteen police cars were parked.

The cordoned-off area was all of 500 square meters, and the harbor staff worked methodically so that they could start the salvage process.

It had taken a long time to locate the containers. They had to map the sea floor in the specified area repeatedly with echo sounding. Every response was followed up by divers. The process had taken time, and delayed things by more than two hours.

Around the area they had cordoned off a safety zone and had forbidden other boat traffic. They had a floating crane in place as well as a freight barge for the containers.

Henrik looked at his watch. Ten minutes, they'd said. Then the lifting would start.

* * *

Jana Berzelius listened to the radio. As in all complex operations, somebody always revealed more than necessary. Who leaked? The salvage work had attracted an enormous amount of attention and been the most important news item all morning.

Jana turned down the volume and looked out through the windshield. She didn't feel at all like getting out of the car and joining the shivering police officers who were next to the cordon.

Farther away stood Henrik Levin, and he also looked frozen. His shoulders were hunched and his scarf tightly wound round his collar. Now and then he wrapped his arms around himself, trying to get warm.

She turned up the heat in the car—to 23 Celsius—before she pulled out her mobile and downloaded the last hour's emails. There were eight of them, most about additional material for one case or another. One question asked about protecting a witness; another was about a future trial that would take place on May 2. The charge was arson, and the victim was a young woman who fortunately had escaped with her life, but suffered severe burns to her face.

Jana put the phone down in her lap and felt it vibrate. She saw her parents' number on the display. She wondered why they were phoning. Again. Three times in just over a week was out of the ordinary.

At the same time, someone knocked on her windshield.

Mia Bolander waved lazily. Her nose and cheeks were red from the biting wind.

“We're about to start now,” she mimed through the glass and went straight off toward Henrik.

Jana nodded and silenced the call.

The dockworkers started moving. Someone waved his arm, another one half ran toward the rocks. A bearded man talked into a walkie-talkie and pointed out to sea.

Jana stretched up in the front seat to try and see what was happening. But she still couldn't. She would have to get out of the car. She put her cell in her pocket, unbuttoned the top button on her parka, turned up her collar and left the car. Her checked cap and long matching scarf kept her warm as she resolutely walked into the cordoned area.

Henrik noted her presence when she came and stood beside him.

The bearded man received a message on his radio and answered.

“You can go ahead now,” he said, before turning to Henrik and Gunnar. “Here comes the first one.”

Jana looked out across the sea and the safety zone. She screwed up her eyes as she watched the floating crane work. Slowly, slowly, a steel cable was winched up. The waves hit against the barge. The wind howled. Then a dark gray object broke the surface and a container became visible. The water poured down on the sides. The container rotated half a turn and was then lowered cautiously onto the barge.

The second container to be lifted up was blue. When that broke the surface, Jana became rigid. She saw the combination code. And recognized it. Paralyzed, she watched the container's rocking movements before it landed on the barge. When the third container came up, she immediately felt impatient. She wanted to see what was in them. Now!

The salvage operation took one and a half hours. One by one, the containers were lifted from the barge onto land.

Jana put her weight on her other leg, to relax.

Mia Bolander jumped up and down and wound her arms round in large circles.

Anneli Lindgren and Gunnar Öhrn stood next to Ola Söderström and chatted.

Henrik helped to direct the crane operators until all ten containers were lifted into place.

“We'll start with this one,” Gunnar shouted and pointed at an orange-colored container that had emerged from the water as number four.

They gathered together outside the steel, moon-shaped doors. The bearded dockworker stood in the middle, in front of the locking mechanism.

“When we open, we've got to be very careful. I want you all to move to a safe distance. The containers will contain a lot of water,” he said.

“I thought they were watertight,” said Henrik.

“Oh no, believe me, they're not.”

Henrik's spirits sank drastically. The hope of finding something important was immediately dampened. Water was a great enemy that could eliminate important evidence. Often very quickly.

“Go back!” the dockworker shouted out.

Jana took several steps backward.

Gunnar got hold of Anneli's arm and pulled her along, as if he wanted to protect her.

Henrik and Mia came after them. From twenty meters, Henrik looked questioningly at the dockworker.

“Go further back!” he shouted.

At fifty meters they stopped. The dockworker gave a thumbs-up sign and then looked closely at the doors. He felt the locking rods and checked the locking mechanism. With the help of a hefty tool, he forced open the lock and set it down. He thought for a few moments about how he could avoid getting caught by any water that might be inside. He steadied himself, put his hand on the metal handle and pulled. His hand slipped. It was like holding a cake of soap. He tried again. Took a firm grip with both hands, tensed his muscles and pulled as hard as he could. The doors opened and water gushed out with enormous power. The dockworker was caught by the flow and landed hard on his back. The water washed over him and he spat and hissed. He tried to wipe his face with his wet jacket, but it didn't help, so he tried to sit up.

But something else came gushing out of the container.

He tried to dry his eyes again so he could see what it was that had landed next to him. Something round and covered with algae. He gave it a slight poke and felt something stick on his hands. He poked again and then rolled the object to one side. He immediately pulled back at the dreadful sight that met him.

It was a decomposed head.

* * *

Jana stood stock-still. Her face revealed nothing as she looked across the wet ground. Body parts were strewn everywhere. Rotting arms and legs. Clumps of hair. The stench was awful.

Henrik Levin held his nose as his stomach cramped. He struggled not to vomit.

Anneli Lindgren was very cautious when she documented the head. The face had dissolved, the eye sockets seemed to have grown bigger and what was left of the eyes hung out.

“One year,” said Anneli and got up. She estimated roughly one year that they had been in the water. “We can thank our cold climate for the bodies being so well preserved.”

Henrik nodded and felt queasy and swallowed several times to get rid of that.

Mia Bolander's face had turned white. She had already used up a whole year's supply of expletives.

Jana Berzelius remained standing at a safe distance. Immobile.

Anneli carefully went up to one of the rotting bones, bent down and took a series of photographs. The skin hung down off the bone like bags of water. When she touched the surface, the skin fell off and stuck on her latex gloves. The bone had penetrated the skin at several places. Anneli got in close with her camera to catch all the details.

“Shall we open the next container?”

Henrik nodded, but he could no longer keep the contents of his stomach down.

* * *

It took a relatively long time before the next container could be opened. Because of the macabre contents found in the first one, they had to take rigorous safety precautions. Anneli Lindgren had discussed different methods with the dock manager Rainer Gustavsson. They decided they would pump out the water before the doors were opened. But so as not to risk the contents of the container being sucked out, they needed a mechanical filter and the necessary equipment was only available in Linköping. Bringing it to their location further delayed the process. It took two hours before three technicians arrived with the special pump. They set up the filter unit, fit in the filters then inserted a large valve to regulate the flow of the water.

Henrik Levin left all this to the specialists. Even though the outdoor temperature had fallen during the afternoon, he was no longer freezing. He just wanted not to vomit again. He had emptied his stomach three times, and that was three times too many. He wasn't the only one. Even Mia Bolander got sick. She stood next to him now and looked pale.

“We'll start the pump now,” said one of the technicians.

The water poured out from the container into a large tank. The emptying took place in silence. The rotted bodies had left everyone shocked and stunned. Henrik thanked the powers above that the cordoning had kept the journalists at a distance. Anneli had called in reinforcement, and five police officers were now following her instructions and gathering together the body parts for transport to forensics. Henrik looked from a slight distance at the rust that climbed up the blue steel wall of the container.

Jana Berzelius stood behind him. She didn't see the rust. She saw the numbers. And letters. The combination.

Just like they had looked in her dream.

“I think we are going to find more bodies inside there,” said Mia.

“Do you think so?” said Henrik.

“Yes, I fucking bet there'll be corpses in all of them,” said Mia.

“I hope not,” said Henrik dejectedly.

“Ready!” called out one of the pump technicians.

“Who's going to open it?” Henrik called back.

“Not any of my workers. The last one is at the clinic getting his stomach pumped. He swallowed a bit too much water. And other stuff. You open it.”

“Me?” said Henrik, surprised.

“Yes? Open it now.”

Henrik went up to the doors and felt them. They were slimy. He pulled one rod toward him but the door didn't budge. He took a deep breath. He separated his legs far apart to give himself leverage, then got a harder grip on the rod and gave a sudden pull. The door creaked as it slowly opened.

Inside the container was dark. Completely black and totally impossible to see inside. Dripping water echoed as it hit the hard floor. The space sounded empty.

“Lights!” he said.

Mia Bolander rushed off to a car and got a large torch from the trunk. She hurried back to Henrik.

“Can someone see that we get some more lights!” she shouted. “We must be able to see!”

Henrik took a large flashlight and turned it on. The ray of light worked its way over the dark floor. He took one hesitant step forward, and then another. The light traveled across the floor from one side to the other, up to the ceiling and across it and finally back down into the floor of one of the far corners.

He caught sight of something in there. He lifted the flashlight and held it as steadily as he could while pointing it there. Then over to the other corner. Something was there too. A heap of some sort. Two more steps and he was inside the container. He made his way slowly forward, inch by inch so as not to risk treading on anything. He kept the torch pointing just in front of his feet on the floor to make sure nothing was in the way. Then up again and into the corners. Now he was halfway inside the container. And he saw the heap.

Of skulls.

That same moment the whole interior was lit up by a car headlight. Henrik blinked in the strong beam, he turned round and saw Mia give him a thumbs-up sign. He did a thumbs-down.

“You were right, Mia. There are more here.”

Mia Bolander went quickly up to the opening and looked in.

Jana Berzelius followed closely after her.

Side by side they stood and looked at the corner that Henrik Levin was pointing toward.

“Here,” he said.

“But what's that?” said Mia and nodded into the container. In the middle lay a rusty object with a pink frame.

“That's a mirror,” said Jana slowly.

She recognized it. It was familiar. As if she had had one like it. And she had too. Of course she had. With a crack in it. Like this one.
But...if this was mine, what was it doing here?

Jana held her breath. The hairs stood up on her neck. On her arms. She slowly looked toward the heap of bones that lay in both corners. She understood what they were. That they were all that was left.

Of some people she once knew.

* * *

“Damn and blast, right, from now on I want a 24-hour watch on the docks!”

Gunnar Öhrn slammed his fist on the plastic table. He was bright red in the face and looked at the group of tired people sitting round the table.

Henrik had dark rings under his eyes.

Mia had a vacant stare and Ola was yawning widely.

The only one missing at this briefing was Anneli—she was still documenting the remains of the bodies from the first container. She was being helped by five forensic experts from Linköping and Stockholm. A team from Örebro was on its way.