The Disappeared (22 page)

‘And you thought this film was genuine – that the murder had really taken place?’

‘To begin with, yes. Then we weren’t sure. There are so many myths about films like that; why should we have found a real one?’

‘But what did all this have to do with Thea Aldrin?’

‘A few years previously, she had been accused of being the author behind two books that were published under a pseudonym; they contained a number of descriptions of bestial murders, interspersed with violent pornography. The film we saw was an exact copy of something that happened in one of the books.’

Torbjörn waited for a reaction, but Alex remained silent.

‘Don’t you understand? She must have been heavily involved in the production of the film. She’s one sick woman.’

He spat into the water.

‘Was she questioned about the film?’ Alex asked.

‘Yes, but she refused to admit anything. And we didn’t have any proof that she was involved.’

‘And the son – she didn’t confess to murdering him?’

‘No, but I haven’t given up hope yet.’

Alex frowned.

‘What do you mean?’

‘I mean exactly what I say. I’m going to find that boy; he deserves a better fate than to be missing for ever.’

When Alex didn’t speak, Torbjörn went on:

‘You know what they say: every police officer has a case he can never let go. The disappearance of Thea Aldrin’s son is mine. I still visit her regularly, try to get her to talk.’

‘Have you got permission to keep the investigation going?’ Alex asked.

‘I don’t need permission. I know I’m right. Believe me, one of these days she’ll start talking.

MONDAY

27

Spencer Lagergren was more worried than he was prepared to admit. All weekend this business with Tova Eriksson had been playing on his mind, wearing him down. Fredrika had noticed the change, but said nothing. Perhaps she was too busy making up for all the hours she had been away from Saga during the week.

He knew he ought to talk to her, tell her what had happened. Instead he kept quiet, hoping it would all blow over soon, and then he would be able to give her a less dramatic version of the whole story. This was beginning to seem more unrealistic with every passing day.

He had called the police in Uppsala on Saturday morning while Fredrika was in the shower, and his worst fears had been confirmed. A formal complaint had been made. The prosecutor had not yet decided whether to instigate a preliminary investigation, but the complaint in itself brought Spencer out in a cold sweat, and he had immediately decided to contact his solicitor on Monday.

It was Monday now, and Fredrika had gone to work. Saga had fallen asleep after breakfast, and the apartment felt silent and empty. Spencer was sitting alone at the kitchen table with the telephone in his hand. His solicitor, who was also a childhood friend, had been very helpful during the divorce proceedings. He thought he had done a good job of extricating himself from his former life, and Uno, his solicitor, had agreed.

To hell with it, he needed help and Uno was the only person he could turn to. His friend answered almost immediately, and was pleased to hear Spencer’s voice.

‘It’s been a long time – how’s life now you’re a dad?’

He was laughing as he spoke; Uno was one of the few people who had had no hesitation in telling Spencer what he thought of the new life he had chosen.

‘You’re going to have a child? At the age of sixty? With a woman who’s thirty-five? You’re out of your bloody mind.’

Spencer had appreciated his honesty, and had wished that more people were like Uno. Honesty was beyond price in any relationship. He hoped Uno would be straight with him now.

In a voice thick with emotion, he explained that fatherhood was wonderful, but that other parts of his life weren’t going quite so well. Uno remained silent as Spencer told him what had happened. When Spencer stopped speaking, his solicitor remained worryingly quiet for a moment.

‘Spencer, between you and me, is there any truth whatsoever in her accusations?’

Was there? He wavered, thinking about that damned hug.

‘No,’ he said firmly. ‘Absolutely none.’

‘That’s even more worrying, in a way. What does she want? Is there any chance that you’ve upset her without realising it?’

Spencer hesitated. Remembered the day she brought a cake in and he went for coffee.

‘I think I might have rejected her without being aware of it at the time.’

‘So you suspect she was interested in you?’

‘I didn’t see it at the time, but with hindsight I think that was probably the case.’

Uno didn’t reply; it sounded as if he was tapping away at his computer keyboard.

‘What do you think?’ Spencer asked eventually.

‘I think you’ve got problems. Big problems.’

The Lions’ Den was available for the Monday-morning briefing, which meant that order was restored. At least for Fredrika Bergman: she liked routine, and had taken a dislike to the temporary meeting room.

Alex looked brighter and fresher than he had done for a long time. Fredrika remembered her promise to keep an eye on him; so far he hadn’t shown any sign of putting a foot wrong.

Fredrika herself wasn’t sure how she felt about being back at work. The weekend with Saga had made her question her decision to return – she missed being with her daughter.

‘Let’s make a start,’ Alex said, interrupting her thoughts.

He nodded to Peder to close the door. Peder also looked rested. Both men must have had a quiet weekend. For his part, Alex confirmed this when he spoke.

‘I did a few hours’ work on Saturday, then I was away for the rest of the weekend. I know that some of you were busy conducting interviews and monitoring Håkan Nilsson’s phone calls; anything to report?’

One of the additional investigators who had been brought in spoke up.

‘Only that Nilsson’s phone is bloody quiet.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘There’s virtually nothing going on; there are no calls to monitor. Either he knows we’re listening, or he hasn’t got any friends.’

‘Or both,’ said Peder.

‘What about the surveillance?’ Alex asked.

‘He left his apartment once during the weekend, and that was to do some shopping.’

Alex looked at his team.

‘Remind me why we don’t believe Håkan Nilsson is our killer.’

Peder and Fredrika began to speak at the same time, and Alex nodded to Peder to continue.

‘First of all, there’s the MO. Because he was so fond of Rebecca, it seems unlikely that he would do such terrible things to her body after killing her. Second, he has an alibi. We’ve spoken to other people who attended the mentors’ event, and they confirm that they saw him during the course of the evening. Several of them recall that he was the one who contacted the police to report Rebecca missing.’

‘The mentors’ event was held not far from the place where we assume she disappeared,’ Alex reminded them. ‘If he was gone for an hour, it would have given him enough time to deal with Rebecca. I mean, he didn’t necessarily have to do everything at the same time.’

‘You mean she was kidnapped first, then murdered later? That’s a possibility, of course.’

Alex scratched his forehead.

‘Did Håkan have a mentor? If not, why was he at the party?’

‘He was there to help out,’ Peder replied. ‘He didn’t have a mentor.’

‘That’s right, I remember now,’ Alex said.

‘And who backs up his alibi?’ Fredrika wanted to know.

‘Countless students and other people who were at the party. Håkan had a number of duties that evening; among other things he was responsible for the technology, making sure the business representatives could give their presentations.’

Peder rested his elbows on the table, supporting his head on his hands.

‘I think we have to accept that Håkan Nilsson is out of the picture,’ he said.

‘I think you’re right,’ Alex agreed. ‘Unless of course, someone was helping him, but that doesn’t sound credible.’

‘I checked the records from the previous investigation,’ Fredrika said. ‘When Rebecca disappeared, you interviewed Valter Lund, her mentor, only once. Why was that?’

‘Because we had no reason to speak to him again. Why do you ask?’

‘I don’t think he was paid very much attention, under the circumstances. And you don’t seem to have asked any questions about his relationship with Rebecca.’

Peder turned to face her.

‘Are you suggesting Valter Lund could have been her boyfriend?’

‘Well, we don’t know, do we? On Friday, I spoke to the president of the students’ union who used to run the mentoring programme. He said that Rebecca had told him she saw Valter Lund only on the odd occasion, but according to the notes in her diary, they saw each other rather more often. I’ve asked Ellen to run the same checks on Valter Lund as she’s already run on everyone else in the previous investigation; I’m hoping to hear back from her this morning.’

She could see that her comments had riled Alex.

‘There was nothing to indicate that they were in a relationship. Nothing.’

She could also see that the thought alarmed him. Could the murderer have been right there under their noses from day one?

‘Is there anything else apart from the fact that they seem to have met up more frequently than they told other people?’ Peder asked, looking extremely sceptical.

‘At the moment, nothing at all,’ Fredrika said. ‘But it won’t do any harm to check. The union president said that Valter Lund is religious, and that he went along to see Rebecca’s church choir. If she thought he was the father of her child, she might have been afraid that he would want to keep the child – that he would be totally opposed to abortion.’

Alex looked at his scarred hands, recalling why he had sustained serious burns.

‘We all remember the Lilian Sebastiansson case in the summer of 2007. Are we dealing with the same thing this time? Unwanted children?’

‘No chance,’ said Peder. ‘Absolutely not.’

‘I agree,’ said Fredrika. ‘But that could be one element in the case.’

‘So what about the man?’ Peder said. ‘The man who was buried thirty years ago? Who the hell is he?’

Alex looked despondent.

‘I’ve spoken to the pathologist and a number of other people. We’re beginning to wonder whether he might have been a foreign national, or someone who was never reported missing in Sweden for other reasons.’

‘A homeless person?’ Fredrika suggested.

‘That’s one possibility. There must be a reason why he isn’t on our database of missing persons. No man of his age and height who has disappeared in the last twenty-five to thirty years fits.’

‘If he is a homeless person who was chosen at random by our perpetrator, then we’re looking for a really sick bastard,’ Peder said. ‘That means Rebecca’s murder could also be completely random.’

Fredrika’s lips narrowed to a thin line.

‘There’s a connection,’ she said. ‘There’s no chance that these murders aren’t linked in some way.’

‘I agree with you,’ said Alex. ‘How old is Valter Lund, by the way?’

‘About forty-five.’

‘So from a purely theoretical point of view, he could have killed both of them.’

‘I didn’t see anything about his alibi; was he at the mentors’ party too?’

‘I can’t remember; check it out.’

Alex looked at his watch.

‘Let’s move on. Fredrika, report back when you’ve heard from Ellen. Look into Lund’s background. Find out where he grew up and what he was doing before he embarked on his career.’

He turned to Peder.

‘Can you check on Gustav Sjöö’s alibi, once and for all? I’m going to try and find out who Rebecca turned to when she got tired of Sjöö and was looking for a new supervisor. She seems to have been very committed to her dissertation; both her mother and Sjöö have made that point. Sjöö even said it was more like a police investigation.’

Fredrika looked up from her notebook.

‘I’ve collected all the material relating to Rebecca’s dissertation that was in her aunt’s garage, and I’m happy to go through it, but I’ve got one more thing to take care of this morning, if you remember.’

Alex smiled.

‘Daniella, the ex-girlfriend. Go and see her right away.’

Peder was curious.

‘What’s going on with the ex?’

‘We think she was the one who uploaded the pictures of Rebecca onto that website.’

The sun was in the sky and spring was in the air. Fredrika stopped on the pavement outside HQ and turned her face up to the warmth. She stood there drinking it in for several minutes before she walked over to the car. She was alone this time; she didn’t see any need to take a colleague with her.

She called home. She wanted to hear that everything was all right, but she sensed a fresh underlying tension in Spencer’s voice.

They ended the conversation with mutual reassurances that everything was fine. Fredrika felt a knot in her stomach, an unease that she couldn’t shake off. Her face was tight after her spell in the sun, and her scalp itched.

Talk to me, tell me what’s happened.

When she arrived at Daniella’s apartment block she was in a bad mood before she even got out of the car. She hurtled up the stairs and hammered on the door.

She heard shuffling steps on the other side of the door; she wanted it to open immediately. Which it did.

‘You again?’

The voice was weary, but her eyes sharpened when she saw Fredrika’s determined expression.

‘May I come in?’ said Fredrika, stepping over the threshold.

As before, Daniella made her way into the kitchen. Fredrika followed, stopping to look at the photographs of Daniella’s brother. She was absolutely certain. It was the same boy she had recognised in the pictures of Rebecca.

They sat down at the kitchen table. Fredrika opened her handbag and took out the nude pictures of Rebecca. Without saying a word, she placed them in front of Daniella, who looked at them and recoiled.

‘Where did you get these?’

‘On the Internet. On a website called “Dreams Come True”.’

Daniella swallowed.

‘You took them, didn’t you?’