Read Online Midnight In Malmö: The Fourth Inspector Anita Sundström Mystery (The Malmö Mysteries Book 4) by Torquil MacLeod - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Torquil MacLeod
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school and give talks.’
‘You looked to be in deep discussion.’
Anita smiled. ‘I was just being a nosy bitch.’
‘Your
bête noire
?’
‘Oh, yes. I was just wondering what she was doing here in Simrishamn. So are Stefan and his colleagues. Zetterberg just appeared yesterday and commandeered an office. They thought it might be something to do with Albin’s suicide, but now the rumour mill believes she’s been sent by Ystad to keep an eye on them. There have been large hints that there are to be job losses. They’re talking about centralizing things from Lund, so smaller police stations are under threat. As you can imagine, they’re all paranoid now. But Stefan’s not too bothered; he’s coming up for retirement and looking forward to concentrating on building his boats.’
Now they were sitting at the side of the Maritim Hotel on the raised decked area overlooking the harbour. Though the early evening was still warm, it was cool under the canvas canopy, and the waitress had thoughtfully brought out a couple of rugs to cover their knees. They had decided on beers, and Kevin was tucking into his Skånsk sisker from a local brewery in Tomelilla as he surveyed the fish he had ordered. When eating in a harbour town, fish was an obvious choice, though it certainly looked different from anything that was served up in his favourite Penrith chippy. Anita couldn’t remember the name of the fish in English but, after tentative prodding, it turned out to be fried plaice. She had gone for the steamed lemon sole with lobster and elderflower pickled vegetables.
‘Quite a boat that,’ remarked Kevin, pointing with his fork over Anita’s shoulder at a two-masted tall ship swaying gently at its berth.
‘That’s the Sarpen,’ Anita replied, squinting round to see. ‘It’s old. Used as a training ship these days. When the masts had to be replaced, the new ones were made by a guy called Sven Geistrand. Lives not far from where we’re staying.’
‘That’s what I call woodwork.’
After a pause for some more food, Anita looked across at Kevin. ‘By the way, I’d better warn you that we’ve got visitors tomorrow.’
‘Oh, yeah?’ Kevin said warily.
‘Lasse and Jazmin are coming over from Malmö for the day.’ She grinned. ‘I think he wants to give you the once-over. See the unfortunate sap that his mother has dragged into bed.’
‘Is that the way he sees it?’
‘No. The other way round actually. He’s very protective of me, so you’d better be on your best behaviour.’
‘I’ll have an extra shower so I smell nice. And I’ll try and do it without flooding your bloody bathroom!’
Wallen had been working closely with Hakim all day. Fruitless calls and dead ends. They hadn’t been able to find any evidence that Julia Akerman was an air stewardess. The mobile phone hadn’t yielded anything either. No deleted texts or calls, except one to the nursing home a month ago. Wallen had dispatched a grumpy Brodd off to Sjöbo to see if he could find out anything. She had to admit that it was only to get him out from under her feet. He couldn’t do much damage out in the middle of Skåne. They could find no criminal records for Akerman – or health records either. Nothing on the electoral roll, no registration for a driving licence, nor enrolment on educational courses. And to add to their frustrations, they were also having difficulty at the Swiss end, as it seemed virtually impossible to get hold of anyone at the weekend.
Wallen had gone out of the meeting room to get some fresh coffee, and was thinking of calling it a day when she returned to see a smiling Hakim. ‘Found her!’
She still held on to the two mugs. The butterflies in her stomach were a good indication that this was a pivotal moment.
‘That was the airline. They’ve got her booking details, and we’ve got an address. It’s in a place called La Sarraz in Switzerland. I’ve Googled it, and it’s not far from
‘You looked to be in deep discussion.’
Anita smiled. ‘I was just being a nosy bitch.’
‘Your
bête noire
?’
‘Oh, yes. I was just wondering what she was doing here in Simrishamn. So are Stefan and his colleagues. Zetterberg just appeared yesterday and commandeered an office. They thought it might be something to do with Albin’s suicide, but now the rumour mill believes she’s been sent by Ystad to keep an eye on them. There have been large hints that there are to be job losses. They’re talking about centralizing things from Lund, so smaller police stations are under threat. As you can imagine, they’re all paranoid now. But Stefan’s not too bothered; he’s coming up for retirement and looking forward to concentrating on building his boats.’
Now they were sitting at the side of the Maritim Hotel on the raised decked area overlooking the harbour. Though the early evening was still warm, it was cool under the canvas canopy, and the waitress had thoughtfully brought out a couple of rugs to cover their knees. They had decided on beers, and Kevin was tucking into his Skånsk sisker from a local brewery in Tomelilla as he surveyed the fish he had ordered. When eating in a harbour town, fish was an obvious choice, though it certainly looked different from anything that was served up in his favourite Penrith chippy. Anita couldn’t remember the name of the fish in English but, after tentative prodding, it turned out to be fried plaice. She had gone for the steamed lemon sole with lobster and elderflower pickled vegetables.
‘Quite a boat that,’ remarked Kevin, pointing with his fork over Anita’s shoulder at a two-masted tall ship swaying gently at its berth.
‘That’s the Sarpen,’ Anita replied, squinting round to see. ‘It’s old. Used as a training ship these days. When the masts had to be replaced, the new ones were made by a guy called Sven Geistrand. Lives not far from where we’re staying.’
‘That’s what I call woodwork.’
After a pause for some more food, Anita looked across at Kevin. ‘By the way, I’d better warn you that we’ve got visitors tomorrow.’
‘Oh, yeah?’ Kevin said warily.
‘Lasse and Jazmin are coming over from Malmö for the day.’ She grinned. ‘I think he wants to give you the once-over. See the unfortunate sap that his mother has dragged into bed.’
‘Is that the way he sees it?’
‘No. The other way round actually. He’s very protective of me, so you’d better be on your best behaviour.’
‘I’ll have an extra shower so I smell nice. And I’ll try and do it without flooding your bloody bathroom!’
Wallen had been working closely with Hakim all day. Fruitless calls and dead ends. They hadn’t been able to find any evidence that Julia Akerman was an air stewardess. The mobile phone hadn’t yielded anything either. No deleted texts or calls, except one to the nursing home a month ago. Wallen had dispatched a grumpy Brodd off to Sjöbo to see if he could find out anything. She had to admit that it was only to get him out from under her feet. He couldn’t do much damage out in the middle of Skåne. They could find no criminal records for Akerman – or health records either. Nothing on the electoral roll, no registration for a driving licence, nor enrolment on educational courses. And to add to their frustrations, they were also having difficulty at the Swiss end, as it seemed virtually impossible to get hold of anyone at the weekend.
Wallen had gone out of the meeting room to get some fresh coffee, and was thinking of calling it a day when she returned to see a smiling Hakim. ‘Found her!’
She still held on to the two mugs. The butterflies in her stomach were a good indication that this was a pivotal moment.
‘That was the airline. They’ve got her booking details, and we’ve got an address. It’s in a place called La Sarraz in Switzerland. I’ve Googled it, and it’s not far from
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