THE BIG DAY WAS APPROACHING, and she was mulling over the potential risks in keeping hold of all the investigation material and potentially exposing what she had done. She imagined the worst case scenario if the final mission backfired. She should probably get rid of the material before it was too late. Kim grabbed the keys and locked the door from the inside. She walked over to the window and closed the curtains.
She had already moved the bookcase aside. She entered the secret room and contemplated the material she had collected over the years. The rows of folders on the bookshelf were classified by subject number, month and year. It was clear she had everything under control. However, the material was also evidence of her affiliation with questionable people.
She took a deep breath and started pulling out the folders one by one, ripping out the pages without bothering to glance at what was inside. Although she hadn’t recorded the men’s names and social security numbers she still wanted to make sure there was no other incriminating information.
Time passed. After three hours of intense, uninterrupted work she finally called it quits. However, there was one notable exception, one file that she hadn’t destroyed. She stared intently at it. Unlike the others, this one only a few pages. It was labelled ‘Subject 1’ and contained details about the man from Umeå.
She remembered how laborious it had been piecing together information about him. She didn’t believe in coincidence, but one day just when she was about to throw in the towel, the course she was planning to attend in Stockholm was relocated to Umeå. And it was there she finally found Åke Pettersson.
Even thinking about it caused her to break out in a cold sweat – she couldn’t deny that he was her greatest challenge. Confronting Pettersson would be anything but child’s play – definitely not as straightforward as the previous subjects. As well as being strong and powerfully built, Subject 1 was accustomed to being top dog and tended to look down at the people he associated with, characteristics that gave him a psychological edge.
During her fact-finding mission she had become obsessed with Pettersson. He had had a difficult childhood. Hours after his birth he was placed with a foster family. He remained there for a number of years, trapped in a loveless environment with several other children. When he was five years old his high-strung personality began to create problems and he was moved around from one foster home to the other. One day, when he was sixteen, he met Raino Cederberg, who took a liking to him and became his guardian and mentor.
During the ongoing investigation she came across confidential documents revealing the two men’s suspicious activities. Åke Pettersson and Raino Cederberg were an unpleasant pair. Anyone who crossed Oxen – as Åke Pettersson was known – would discover the consequences. Cederberg would assert his power and find a way to finish them off.
Kim left the secret chamber and paced the walls of the room like a big cat patrolling the periphery of its territory. “You’re going to make it Kim,” she muttered and walked to the kitchen, grabbing a glass and filling it with cold water. She pressed the glass to her face to cool her feverish face. Thoughts of the man from Umeå continued to torment her. She drank the water in one go and returned to the secret room.
Kim picked up the folder again; it felt hot in her hand. The documents had been useful, but things were different now – Åke Pettersson’s details were imprinted on her brain. She remembered every last detail about Subject 1.
There was no point in continuing to procrastinate. She opened the folder and ripped out the pages.
Done. But there was still work to do.
She leaned pensively against the wall and looked at the papers strewn across the floor, making a quick evaluation of the options available to her. The aim was to make sure none of the information could be recycled. Was she being paranoid? No, not at all. Kim knew exactly how this worked; it was a skill she had refined on the job, and she had learnt to consider all the possibilities. At this point, planning was essential. To be aware of every conceivable outcome and bear in mind that you could never take too many precautions when it came to technology.
After weighing up the pros and cons, she decided to go to her grandmother’s and dispose of the material in the wood burner. All she needed to tell her grandmother was that she didn’t want anyone to access the information. She would understand.
Kim picked up the phone and dialled the number.
“Hi Grandma…it’s me…”
“Hello sweetheart, great to hear from you,” said the elderly woman affectionately.
“What are your plans for the weekend?”
“Well, honey, I’m at the cottage as usual,” she said, laughing softly.
“Do you want company? I could come on Saturday afternoon for coffee.”
“You’re always welcome, dear. You know you don’t have to ask, you can just show up. Come earlier so we can have lunch if you like.”
“Sounds good, I’ll see you at eleven.”
AT QUARTER PAST SIX on Tuesday morning Sanna rolled over in bed for the umpteenth time. Yet another sleepless night. The investigation had been going on for six months now and for the first time Sanna felt as if they were getting close to a resolution. She got up. Still half asleep, she went to the bathroom and turned on the shower. When the water was warm enough she climbed in and let the powerful spray wash over her face. Her thoughts ran away with her.
One of their suspects was Nina Jay, the woman who had threatened Konrad Berg. Her body type matched the suspect’s profile and she had connections with a number of criminal networks. In short, Nina Jay was considered untrustworthy.
Another person of interest was the policewoman who had chatted with Ruth Bengtsson at the pub.
The third suspect was the twenty-five year old murdered police cadet.
The descriptions of these women correlated with the description of the person who had been seen with Dexter Fleming, the Vasastan victim. In addition, two of the suspects had been in contact with Konrad Berg.
She shampooed her hair, absent-mindedly continuing to use the same bottle to wash the rest of her body. What the hell! Her eyes stung as she tried to read the label on the bottle. Shampoo! She pressed her lips tightly together, grabbed the showerhead and quickly rinsed off the lather.
As she applied conditioner to her hair, her thoughts returned to the police cadet.
The promised photo-fit image had finally arrived and the image resembled the description of the police cadet both in physiognomy and body type. Today, after meeting with the witnesses, including the bartender, she would find out if it was the same person or not.
IT WAS NINE O’CLOCK on Wednesday morning and the phone rang just as he was getting ready for work. “Kalle Karlsson,” he answered, glancing through the stack of papers on his desk to make sure he had everything. “Sorry, what did you say?” His face crumpled and he stumbled onto the nearest chair. For a moment he remained utterly still, unable to gather his thoughts. He wanted to scream. After what seemed like an eternity, he walked to the door as if in a trance.
Sanna observed him from a distance and intercepted him before he could leave.
His eyes filled with tears.
“What happened?” she whispered anxiously.
“It’s Mia.” He burst into tears but quickly managed to pull himself together. “I’m going to the hospital.”
Sanna recognized the gravity of the situation and put her hand on his arm.
“I can pick up the kids from school if you want.”
He nodded.
“Does Pontus have keys to the house?”
Kalle nodded again and walked out.