The Disappeared (29 page)

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Authors: Kristina Ohlsson

Tags: #Fiction, #Thrillers, #Suspense, #Mystery & Detective, #General, #Crime

BOOK: The Disappeared
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Why the hell had they gone to see his ex-wife? To find out about his bad points?

‘A student has made a complaint against you?’

Her tone of voice was light; she had never taken things too seriously. Not until the day she realised he was intending to move out.

‘That certainly explains a few things.’

Confusion was making his head spin.

‘Wasn’t that why the police came to see you?’

‘No, it wasn’t.’

He could hear something rattling; he thought it might be the English tea trolley she had bought when they were living in London. It was her most prized possession.

‘They were asking questions about that girl whose body was found in Stockholm. Rebecca Trolle.’

Spencer held his breath.

Rebecca Trolle. Again.

‘What?’

‘Peder Rydh, the detective who was here, asked if I’d ever heard you mention Rebecca Trolle.’

‘And what did you say?’

‘I said no, of course. What did you think I’d say?’

She sounded annoyed; she was always quick to take offence. She went on:

‘Anyway, he was talking about a conference in Västerås.’

‘Back in 2007.’

‘Exactly. I told him I didn’t remember it.’

But Spencer did.

It had been excellent in every way. At first, he had intended to ask Fredrika to go with him, but then he had decided against it. He had felt it was unnecessary to cajole her into going to conferences with him, making their relationship stronger than it was.

Sjöö. That was why the police had called – to check Sjöö’s alibi.

‘Did he ask about anything else?’

‘Whether you’d ever had any problems with female students. I said you hadn’t.’

Spencer lay down on the bed, staring up at the ceiling.

‘Are you still there?’ Eva asked.

‘Yes, I’m here.’

His heart was beating fast, pounding against his ribs as if it was trying to escape from his body. Now more than ever, he regretted the fact that he hadn’t talked to Fredrika right from the start. He had thought that the police had contacted Eva to talk about Tova Eriksson’s complaint, but this was much worse.

He was a suspect in a murder case.

There wasn’t much to report back to Alex. Fredrika had spoken to Håkan Nilsson’s mother and cousin, but neither of them had heard from him, and they had no idea where he was.

‘He can’t have vanished off the face of the earth,’ Alex said. ‘He’s hiding somewhere.’

Earlier, he had asked Cecilia Torsson to check up on Håkan’s boat. She came to see him while Fredrika was in his office. The two women exchanged a look, acknowledged each other silently. They weren’t exactly best friends, but as long as they could work together Alex didn’t care. He had two murders on his desk, which meant he had far more important things to think about.

‘Håkan Nilsson emailed the chairman of the boat club over the weekend,’ Cecilia said. ‘He asked for permission to put his boat in the water earlier than the other members; he said he was thinking of selling it, so he wanted it in the water.’

‘Her,’ Alex said.

‘Sorry?’

‘You don’t say “it” when you’re referring to boats, you say “she” or “her”.’

Cecilia looked at him without speaking.

‘Could he have slipped out of his apartment over the weekend without our knowing about it?’ Fredrika wondered.

‘I’ve no idea,’ said Alex. ‘I wish I could say no, but for obvious reasons, I can’t.’

‘The boat club chairman visited the yard on Sunday, and Håkan’s boat was still ashore then.’

Alex let out a whistle.

‘In which case he must have put her in the water today. Call the coastguard right away.’

‘Why the coastguard?’ Fredrika said. ‘Isn’t it more likely that he’s still on Lake Mälaren? Call the harbourmaster’s office instead; they’re bound to remember if they’ve seen a small boat heading out to sea this early in the year.’

Alex asked Cecilia to check.

‘I don’t understand Håkan Nilsson,’ he said when Cecilia had gone. ‘He’s been here no fewer than three times, and not once has he voluntarily offered us any information; we’ve had to drag it out of him. The fact that he’d had sex with Rebecca. That he was the one who spread the rumour about Rebecca selling sex over the Internet.’

‘And that he was the one who uploaded her profile onto the website,’ Fredrika added. ‘Although it’s hardly surprising that he didn’t tell us any of those things – not if he’s actually involved in the murder.’

‘And that’s where we come unstuck. Because we don’t think he’s the killer who dismembered her body with a chainsaw.’

Fredrika sat down. Her boss looked less tired; still far from rested, but a little bit brighter.

‘So what do we think?’

Alex leaned back in his chair, gazing up at the ceiling.

‘We think he’s hiding something.’

He straightened up.

‘Why do we keep seeing Håkan, and not the killer? Time and time again he pops up like a bloody Jack-in-the-box. And always when we’ve just decided that he’s of no interest.’

Fredrika crossed her legs.

‘His alibi,’ she said.

‘Watertight.’

There was a draught from the open window. Alex got up and closed it, then sat down and leaned across the desk.

‘By the way, what did you find among Rebecca’s stuff in the garage? Anything interesting?’

Fredrika felt herself stiffen.

Spencer. I found the father of my child.

‘Yes and no. I found her dissertation, or parts of it. And tons of material about Thea Aldrin. What they say is true: Rebecca seems to have spent an enormous amount of time on her dissertation.’

‘But does it have anything to do with the murder?’

‘I don’t know yet,’ Fredrika replied. ‘But I found a link to Morgan Axberger, the man who runs Axbergers.’

‘Oh?’

‘Morgan Axberger used to spend time with Thea Aldrin. They were both members of the same film club, The Guardian Angels.’

‘Were they indeed!’

Fredrika nodded.

‘Axberger’s name is one of the first you come across if you start digging in Thea’s past. Rebecca might have met up with him, even though we don’t know anything about it.’

Alex’s expression was clouded with doubt.

‘Morgan Axberger is a seventy-year-old billionaire, Fredrika. In what way would he be of interest in a case like this?’

She looked down at the floor first of all, then out of the window. The final word in Rebecca Trolle’s notes echoed through her mind.

Snuff.

‘You were the one who said we had to keep all lines of inquiry open,’ she countered. ‘Morgan Axberger is one of a small number of people with a solid link to Thea, and Rebecca had a connection with him via Lund. I don’t think he’s involved, but he could be interesting for other reasons. Regardless of the fact that he’s one of Sweden’s leading businessmen. Even if he never met Rebecca, he might be able to help us understand the mystery of Thea Aldrin.’

It was obvious that Alex had his doubts.

‘It’s not that I’m afraid to take him on,’ he said. ‘But we have to prioritise.’

‘I agree. And I’m certainly not saying that he’s our most important lead. Valter Lund, on the other hand . . . I really think we should bring him in.’

Alex looked as if he wanted to laugh. The media would go mad if the police picked up both Valter Lund and Morgan Axberger.

‘I just want to go over a few basic facts that we need to bear in mind,’ Fredrika said.

She told Alex what Ellen had said: that Valter Lund had taken Rebecca to a dinner in Copenhagen.

Alex held up his hand.

‘We need to speak to Diana Trolle about this; I’m sure she’ll remember if her daughter went away for a weekend with her mentor.’

‘Would you like me to ring her?’

Alex coughed and looked down at the desk.

‘No, I’ll call her myself.’

He looked up again. Fredrika could see that her words had made him think. She didn’t really want any more questions about all this, but Alex asked anyway.

‘Who else was a member of this film club?’

My Spencer.

‘Nobody whose name I recognised. But I’ll look into it, as well as following up everything else.’

She paused and looked at Alex.

‘And what about you? Have you and Peder come up with anything new?’

Alex hesitated for such a long time that she thought he wasn’t going to answer.

‘No, nothing,’ he said eventually.

She had a feeling that he was lying too.

37

The decision was made before Alex had even finished thinking the thought. He would ring Diana Trolle and see where the conversation led.

‘There’s something we need to discuss,’ he said.

‘Is it about Rebecca?’

Wasn’t everything? Alex was surprised; wondering if she thought he’d rung for some other reason.

‘Yes, and people we think might have been around her before she disappeared.’

Why did he always put it that way? He always said, ‘before she disappeared’ rather than ‘before she died’. Because it was the most accurate? The pathologist had been unable to say how long she had lived – if she had lived – after the evening when she went missing. Perhaps the murderer had killed her immediately. But he could just as easily have kept her prisoner for several days. Or weeks. They didn’t know for sure. And unless the murderer told them himself, they would never know.

‘Would you like to come over?’

No I bloody wouldn’t

Her gentle voice aroused a forbidden longing.

‘Yes, if that’s OK.’

‘If you’re here at six thirty I can offer you dinner.’

A pulse throbbed at his temple. His gaze fell on the pictures of Lena.

It’s too soon, he thought. I can’t.

‘It’s just dinner, Alex.’

As if she could read his mind.

He hurried along to Peder’s office when he had ended the call and decided to accept Diana’s invitation.

‘You haven’t said anything to Fredrika about Lagergren, have you?’

‘No, of course not,’ said Peder. ‘How did it go with Håkan Nilsson?’

‘He hasn’t passed through the lock, so he’s still on Lake Mälaren. We’ve put out a call, so let’s hope we hear something tomorrow. The fine weather is very tempting; a lot of people have decided to put their boats in the water a little earlier than usual this year. He might be difficult to find.’

Alex looked searchingly at Peder when he had finished speaking.

‘Isn’t it time you went home?’

‘I won’t be long; I’ve still got one or two things left to do. What about you?’

‘I’m going soon. I’m just waiting to hear about that gold watch that was found in the grave.’

He heard a voice behind him:

‘I’m back.’

He turned around and saw the officer he had sent to visit various jewellers and watchmakers. He felt like glancing at the time, making the point that it had taken too long to find the answers.

‘This model was introduced on the Swedish market in 1979; it was known as “The Father” when it came out. It never caught on, and was sold in only a small number of shops in Stockholm and the rest of the country.’

Alex was disappointed.

‘Is that all you’ve got?’

‘Not quite.’

His colleague looked triumphant, as if he were celebrating a major success.

‘I must have visited twenty shops, but there were only two where the owner had been in the game long enough to recognise the model. And one of them was absolutely certain that he had sold this particular watch once upon a time.’

‘Seriously?’

Peder looked dubious.

The other officer nodded firmly.

‘He had no doubts whatsoever. It’s the inscription on the back; he remembers it well. The name Helena struck a chord because his wife is also called Helena.’

Alex was very interested.

‘What else did he say?’

‘He sold the watch to a woman towards the end of 1979; it was the year he and his wife had a child. She brought it back three days later, because it had stopped working. The watchmaker repaired it, and by way of recompense he took it round to her apartment in person when it was ready.’

It took a second before Alex and Peder grasped the significance of what he was saying.

‘She lived on Sturegatan, next door to the watchmaker.’

He handed over his notes to Alex.

‘We don’t have a surname for this woman?’

‘No, but since we have an address and a first name, it shouldn’t be difficult to find her. Unless of course she’s left the country, or died.’

Alex clutched the piece of paper.

‘We’ll find her.’

He wasn’t himself at all. Fredrika could see the change, but she couldn’t understand it. Eventually, she had to put her fears into words.

‘It’s nothing,’ Spencer said. ‘I’ve just been feeling a bit under the weather this last week or so.’

Fredrika shook her head slowly.

‘You’re lying to me.’

A simple statement of fact.

He looked at her.

‘I have never lied to you. If you’re referring to my past, I didn’t lie.’

‘You’re lying now, Spencer. This is not about you feeling under the weather for the past week; this is about something else altogether.’

He was unable to absorb the calmness in her voice. He became restless and couldn’t remain sitting on the sofa beside her. When he got up, she could see that he was finding it difficult to stand.

‘Is your leg worse? Or is it your hip?’

‘Neither, I’m just a bit stiff.’

Another lie. And she knew she didn’t want to hear any more.

‘We’re not going to bed until you tell me what’s happened.’

They rarely raised their voices when they had a disagreement, but this time a combination of frustration and sorrow meant she couldn’t help it.

‘You haven’t told me the real reason why you wanted to start your paternity leave so suddenly.’

He looked at her, his eyes full of something that resembled sorrow and anger.

‘You haven’t told me everything either.’

Fredrika recoiled as the accusation flew at her.

‘Me? Darling Spencer, I have nothing to tell you that you don’t already know.’

She saw that he didn’t know what to think. What the hell was going on?

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