SABINE KEIKKONEN FROM NFC had completed her work mirroring the hard disc from Konrad Berg’s laptop as well as producing working copies. This was normal procedure. It secured unlimited access to the electronically stored information from the original computer in case the data ended up in the wrong hands and manipulation or similar falsification of the contents occurred. Sabine had repeated the process with Thom Mark and Dexter Fleming’s computers, which were still in safe keeping even though the investigation had been closed down a few years earlier. She placed the three USB sticks containing the copied data into a box, together with the hard discs.
Keikkonen had also been assigned the task of analysing the information for links to child pornography. In addition, she had been asked to check for names that might appear on both computers. She quickly scanned through the report. Satisfied with the results she picked up the phone and punched in a few numbers.
“Hi Sabine,” answered Javier. “Have you got something for me?”
“Yup, one for you anyway – the other’s for Thorén and Segelström,” she replied in her strong Finnish accent.
“Great!”
“You can come and fetch them if you want,” she chuckled. “Otherwise you’ll just have to be patient and wait for the postman!”
“Ha ha, I’m coming over. I’m actually in Linköping at the moment so I can be there in half an hour.”
“Oh, great. Guess I’ll see you soon then.”
“How about coffee?” asked Javier. “I was thinking of calling you anyway to see if you were free…”
“Sure. See you in a bit.”
Keikkonen and Javier had been meeting out of the office occasionally. They enjoyed each other’s company and could sit and talk for hours. They shared similar values and expectations and it was obvious they were physically attracted to one another. However, despite the flirtatious looks, loving smiles and affectionate exchanges, so far they hadn’t taken their relationship further.
ANDREA WAS EATING BRUNCH with a friend at Centralbadet when her phone rang.
“Hi Andrea, this is Sanna. We met the other day at…”
“Hi, great to hear from you!” Andrea recognized Sanna’s voice immediately and was thrilled. Since their meeting at Södra Teatern ten days ago she had been on tenterhooks waiting to hear from her. She had almost given up hope.
“Do you feel like meeting tomorrow for a coffee or something?” asked Sanna.
“Tomorrow? Yes, that’d be great. Where?”
Andrea’s friend looked nonplussed. Just a few minutes ago they had arranged to meet some other friends.
“How about meeting in Gamla Stan. There are lots of places around Stortorget… unless you have another idea?” continued Sanna.
“Stortorget’s perfect. What time?”
“I usually leave home around ten on Sundays and go for a long walk. I have a favourite route that takes me south via Medborgaplatsen to Årstaviken. It’s beautiful there. Then after an hour or so I head back towards Slussen… I live on Götgatan by the way. So let’s say twelve o’clock? How does that sound?”
Andrea’s eyes lit up like two suns as she listened. She enjoyed hearing Sanna describing her routine in such detail and chatting to her as if they were already old friends.
THE SOUND OF CECILE THORÉN’S joyful laugh echoed down the corridor as Allan Jonsson and her joked around on their way down to the garage.
“You’re crazy!” she laughed and slapped him on the back.
Allan grimaced in pain and groaned.
“Oh, I didn’t hit you that hard – did I?” she continued jokingly.
He shook his head, despite looking distinctly uncomfortable.
Thorén was bewildered. She wasn’t sure how to react. This wasn’t the first time Allan had complained of soreness. He was a fit man, yet there were days when he could hardly walk upright. She was starting to become concerned.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you. What happened?”
Allan shook his head, but remained silent.
Thorén realized she couldn’t continue to act as if nothing had happened. “You’re not taking another step until you tell me what’s wrong,” she said, blocking his way.
“Stop fooling around Cecile. I’ve probably pulled a muscle or twisted my back in a strange way. It’s nothing serious. You didn’t hit me that hard. I’m just a bit sore, that’s all.”
They continued in silence towards the car.
Although they hadn’t worked together that long, they had clicked immediately and quickly become good friends. As a rule they tended to engage in frank, open conversation but as soon as Thorén inquired about Allan’s personal life he would change the subject. This had never bothered her particularly since she respected his desire for privacy.
Everyone in the team knew that he was having trouble at home. His partner would often call him at the office and it was impossible to avoid hearing her screeching, unpleasant voice at the end of the phone. However, nobody had any idea what they talked about since Jonsson always detached himself from the group to continue the conversation in private.
FOR THE THIRD TIME THAT MORNING, Sanna glanced at her phone. It was five past nine. She shifted in the chair and sighed heavily.
“Does anyone know where Blom is?”
Kalle shook his head and Javier, who was sitting beside him, yawned and leaned back in his chair. Monika Lind and Samir Mohamed glanced at each other. Sanna was sitting directly across the table from the prosecutor, Carl-Magnus Alkelius. It was the first time he had attended a meeting about this particular case.
Sanna looked at him as he casually flipped through the pages of his Filofax. She felt as if she was seeing him for the first time. Although they had worked together on a previous investigation, she had never really noticed how charismatic he was. He was wearing his customary grey suit and she imagined a row of identical outfits hanging neatly in his wardrobe. For the first time she became aware of how his clothes emphasized his tall stature. He had a serious disposition and was often quite stressed but there was an attractive serenity in his green eyes.
He looked up and their eyes met briefly. He smiled. Sanna blushed.
“No. But Cecile Thorén’s at home with her kids,” said Monika.
Sanna glanced at Segelström.
“We agreed that I would present our report,” he said. “We completed it yesterday…”
Sanna wasn’t too happy about this but said nothing.
Ten minutes later Blom made his entrance. He seemed a little flustered and wasn’t in the best of moods.
“Damn traffic!” he growled. “I’m sorry.” He fished out a handkerchief from his trouser pocket and wiped his face, then sat down next to Segelström.
Sanna cradled her mug of coffee with both hands and sipped the warm drink.
She gazed at the participants around the table. “Who wants to start?”
“I’ll begin,” said Javier. “Well, as most of you know, we found quite a lot of interesting material at Konrad Berg’s place. He had a den full of secrets. He used a number of dating sites for singles as well as married people looking for sex – so-called ‘affair dating’. He made contact with several women, most of whom were married. It appears he wasn’t trying to get laid but instead wanted to strike up friendships with mature women whom he could then abuse in some way. He seems to have resorted to threats and blackmail by sending compromising pornographic photos to their husbands.
There are two women who stand out. A fifty-year-old woman called Eleonor Baker and a thirty-eight year old woman called Nina Jay who’s married to a Mr. Sackarov. Through their e-mail and text message correspondence I have been able to ascertain that Konrad Berg threatened these women over a long period of time.” Javier referred briefly to his notes and then continued. “From what I can tell, Konrad Berg is mostly interested in the older woman. Eleonor Baker’s husband is a wealthy old English gentleman who owns a number of companies both here and abroad.
He only stopped threatening the younger woman when she told him she didn’t care anymore. In an e-mail she writes:
‘You don’t know who you’re dealing with, you bloody idiot! The day you tell my husband, there’s no turning back. Both you and I will be history. He won’t hesitate for a second to get someone to finish us both off. Don’t you get it?’
That probably scared him off,” concluded Javier, smiling.
Blom took out his handkerchief again and mopped the sweat from his brow. “What did these women do?”
“They’re housewives. It’s all in the report. I hope to meet them next week if I ever manage to get hold of them. Who knows, maybe they’ll lead us to the murderer.”
Sanna raised her eyebrows. “What’s the problem?”
“They’re never at home and they don’t answer their mobiles.”
The prosecutor stopped writing in his Filofax and looked up at Javier. “Strange. Wealthy women don’t normally worry about roaming charges when they’re abroad.”
“No, but they could be using another subscription,” added Sanna.
“Possibly. Anyway, that’s where we are now,” continued Javier.
Sanna walked over to the whiteboard. A photograph of Konrad Berg was placed at the top. Beside it was a post it note with the name of his wife, Karin Åström-Berg written on it. Underneath was a photograph of Aron Alvik, who claimed to have been away when the murder was committed. However, since the pathologist still couldn’t determine precisely when Konrad Berg had died his alibi would have to be checked later.
Sanna noted the new information and added Eleonor Baker and Nina Jay’s names onto the board. She stepped back to view the display, then turned around and returned to her seat.
The rest of the team watched her attentively.
“Tell us about the shoe boxes. What was in them?” she asked Javier.
Javier gestured in Kalle’s direction.
Kalle sat up in his chair and flipped through the pages of their report. “These men have known each other for a long time. They’re all members of the same shooting club. Five of them appear to have been active members attending practically all the meetings and competitions.”
“Who are they?” asked Segelström.
“Right, I was just getting to that,” replied Kalle glancing down at the pile of papers. “Konrad Berg, Thom Mark, Dexter Fleming, Bosse Krom and Åke Pettersson, AKA Oxen. It’s not clear when our victim stopped participating. We have a list of the club’s activities. Aron Alvik and a man called Jukka – full name Anton Jukka Lidman – were also in the group from the beginning. Apparently neither of them has been active for the past few years or, to be more precise, Alvik hasn’t participated for at least two years and Jukka for almost four years.”
“Damn it! Somebody’s planning to kill the entire group,” exclaimed Allan Jonsson.
Kalle walked over to the whiteboard and wrote the names Bosse Krom and Åke Pettersson under the victim’s name with the question: “Still Alive?”
Sanna looked on with interest. “Put up Jukka and Aron Alvik’s names too. They’re probably also in danger.”
“Unfortunately, I haven’t got their social security numbers yet but I’m working on it. I guess they have that information at the shooting club. However, the only person with access to the register is the owner and he’s in Thailand right now. I’ll go back there next week.”
Silence.
Blom suppressed a yawn. “I suggest we take a break.”
Sanna glanced absent-mindedly at the clock on her mobile, but barely registered the time. She turned to Segelström.
“Anything to report?”
“No,” replied Segelström. “Not a thing. We went through all the DVD and CD’s and reviewed Keikkonen’s report. We also re-examined Tom Mark and Dexter Fleming’s hard drives. Their email and text messages are cryptic. I suspect they communicate via media we don’t have access to yet. I have a sneaking suspicion that they use pay as you go phones or other untraceable mobile devices.
Although neither of them ever looked at child pornography, they visited loads of BDSM websites and made contact with both men and women. I think they were bisexual. The report was sent to you yesterday.”
“BDSM?” repeated Blom.
“It’s basically like sadomasochism,” explained Segelström.
“Anyone we should bring in for questioning?” asked Sanna.
“Yes, we’ve earmarked three people with a history of aggressive behaviour and are trying to get in contact with them.”
Sanna quickly leafed through the report.
“Okay, let’s take a ten-minute break,” she said and left the room. The rest of the team, with the exception of Blom, followed and headed off towards the vending machine.
Allan Jonsson’s mobile rang. He walked away. At the other end of the phone they could hear a woman shouting. His face dropped.
“Please don’t be angry… I will…” he whispered.
Fifteen minutes later Sanna stomped into the room carrying a mug of coffee. Thorén arrived soon afterwards.
“Hi everyone!” she said and found herself a seat.
There was no sign of Allan Jonsson.
THE TWO EXHAUSTED COLLEAGUES looked at each other. “Why don’t you go home?”
Javier shook his head. “If you’re going to keep working, I will too. Though I must say I’m pretty impressed with your stamina.”
Sanna smiled. “Okay, it’s up to you,” she said, punctuating her reply with a yawn, which she made no attempt to hide. “The fact that Javier and I look so tired is not because we were out partying all night. It’s because we’ve been working flat out all week on the Thom Mark and Dexter Fleming cold cases. We wanted to re-examine the crime scene photos as well as the technical and pathology reports just in case we missed an important piece of information that could perhaps help us with this investigation.
Unfortunately, the reports bring up similar questions, including doubts about where the murders were actually carried out. However, we do know that Berg wasn’t killed in his own house.”
“Why are there doubts?” interjected Blom.
“It’s impossible to draw any conclusions, because all the crime scenes were cleaned so thoroughly,” added Javier.
Sanna finished her coffee and tossed the paper cup into the waste paper bin. “But that’s just it. All we know for certain is that, except for one notable exception, everybody received the same treatment. We found two letters inserted into Konrad Berg’s penis, not one like the others.”
Segelström looked at her intently.
“What about the other victims?” said Thorén. “Was there definitely only one letter in their genitals?”
“Forensics will check it out. It’s old evidence material so let’s hope it’s in good enough condition. In the worst case there should at least be a shadow or speck suggesting a letter.”
“A shadow or a speck?” echoed Segelström.
“Yes, the letters will probably be barely visible by now. They were pretty faint to start with.”
Segelström looked satisfied.
Sanna leaned back against the chair and studied him. Had he really changed? So far, he had done exactly what was asked of him. He was showing an active interest in the investigation and had provided them with a detailed report.
“I know that some of you have already read about the Gothenburg murder investigation,” she continued. “But for those of you who haven’t done so yet, I can tell you that we had a number of theories during our investigation.
Because of the severity of his injuries and the fact that he was discovered in a compromising position with his feet and hands bound by a black leather strap, we suspected that the victim was a masochist who had fallen prey to the impulses of a particularly violent sadist.
Another theory bandied about was that the victim was bisexual and living a double life. Theory number three was that he had been the victim of a brutal hate crime.” Sanna paused and surveyed her team.
“Hate crime?” said Segelström disdainfully.
Javier glared at him. “This isn’t the first time I’ve heard you question the idea of a hate crime.”
Segelström turned pale. He opened his mouth to respond but Javier cut him off.
“We’re living in a society where, for many people, hate crime is an everyday reality. It’s possible, for example, that a homophobe discovered they were bisexual.”
Segelström shrugged his shoulders and looked away.
“So, shall we visit BDSM clubs too?” interjected Thorén with a glint in her eye, in an attempt to lighten the mood.
Kalle smiled at her. “That’ll be interesting.”
“Yes, we’ll also be investigating these theories in the Konrad Berg case, especially now we know that he visited those websites,” said Sanna.
Monika Lind gently nudged Javier’s arm. He opened his eyes, glanced at her sleepily and straightened up in the chair.
“What did you find out? Which theory applied to the Gothenburg victim?” asked Carl-Magnus Alkelius.
“None of them, unfortunately. Although he visited sadomasochistic and bisexual websites he wasn’t known in any of the BDSM clubs we checked out. We also talked to his wife, just in case she ever noticed anything odd about his leisure habits. Apparently he had a range of interests. He was also a member of a rock club but she didn’t know which one.”
“Nice couple,” said Thorén sarcastically, shaking her head in disbelief.
Nobody said anything for a few minutes.
Blom coughed and shifted position in his chair.
Sanna cleared her throat. “Following our search of Konrad Berg’s house we can now confirm that the victims knew each other. This means we have to find the other two club members while they’re still alive. Although Javier and I have received the essential documentation surrounding the earlier investigations we were forced to contact Gothenburg’s Violent Crime unit and colleagues who worked on the Vasastan case. If we’re going to solve the Ingarö murder and avoid another killing on our hands we must pool our resources.”
“You mean another three murders,” interjected Javier.
“I’m glad you’re on the ball, Javier!” teased Sanna. “You’re right, there are three potential victims remaining.”
“Who are they?” asked Carl-Magnus Alkelius.
“Bosse Krom, Åke Pettersson and Anton Jukka Lidman,” replied Javier, stifling a yawn.
Sanna made a note in her tablet computer and turned to speak to her newly appointed criminal investigator assistants.
“Mohamed and Monika, you keep an eye on them.”
Sanna was aware that they weren’t used to their new positions yet. However, since resources would have to be put to full use it was time to entrust them with proper assignments.
Allan Jonsson entered the room and sat down on an empty chair in the far corner. He looked harrowed.
“As I said… we’ll liaise with the teams in Gothenburg and Vasastan. They’ll get back to us if they find out anything new.”
Blom nodded slowly. “Do you think there’s any point? The investigations were suspended ages ago.”
“We’ll have to see. Anyway, it’s important to keep the door open.”
“Hmm,” said Blom, scratching the back of his head.
“Sometimes people don’t bother to report things that seem unimportant at the time and later turn out to be significant,” added Kalle.
Blom nodded again and made a note in his Filofax.
“Were there any suspects?” asked Allan Jonsson.
“No, but a lot of people were questioned, mainly BDSM members.”
Allan stared at him in silence. He leaned back in his chair and attempted to clasp his hands behind his neck but stopped halfway, grimacing in pain.
“We interviewed a number of tough guys with violent records but nothing stuck,” continued Sanna. “I wish I could say we have the situation under control but, to be honest, despite all the new evidence, we still have no idea what type of person we’re looking for.” She paused and looked at everyone around the table, her eyes finally resting on Blom. “I think we should contact the criminal profilers group.”