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Authors: Helene Tursten
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drily.
“Yep. We need to figure out what really happened with the company. Who else was involved? And we have to check whether can connect Thomas Bonetti and Joachim Rothstaahl.”
“Just a second, let’s back off a bit,” Andersson said, looking around the room. He took a deep breath before he continued. “Let’s go back to the case in question. Two crime scenes and three murders. So far we have nothing concrete to connect the two crime scenes, and we don’t actually know whether all three of them were killed by the same weapon. And what would connect Kjell B:son Kaegler to some damned Internet business?”
“So far we have no connection,” Tommy replied calmly. “However, he was married to one of the founders. One other founder has been killed, and the third disappeared without a trace three years ago. The only thing all three victims have in common is Sanna Kaegler.”
Andersson kept breathing heavily as he thought about all these unexpected complications. There was a whistling noise coming from his windpipe, which made Irene nervous. She thought he might have an asthma attack. Finally, Andersson made up his mind.
“We’re going to sit tight until Philip Bergman’s identity has been confirmed. Once it has, I want Irene and Tommy to head out and have a chat with that prima donna Kaegler. And don’t press too hard until we’re sure that Ceder is not the father of her son. Anything new from the lab?” The last question was directed to Åhlén who seemed to be dozing. Irene gave him asharp poke in the ribs with her elbow, and he jerked upright. He got up, walked over to Andersson, pushed his glasses up on his nose, and faced the room. As usual, he looked like a mole coming up to the surface.
“Sanna Kaegler’s hands had no trace of powder or soot residue. On the other hand, there was a considerable amount on the victim around the entrance wound and the face, which indicates he was shot at close range. We have estimated the distance at half a meter. There are no signs of forced entry to the house, but we found some muddy footprints with clay residue inside by the door at the rear of the house. There’s a lot of clay outside the doorway, and on the inside doormat, there are blurred footprints of size forty-four jogging shoes. There are also signs of dried moisture beneath a clothes hanger. The theory is that the murderer could have entered through the back door, hung up his wet coat, and changed to dry shoes. Neither the outer nor inner back doors have any sign of forced entry. Either the murderer had a key to the house or else the door had been left open.”
“There are no other footprints on the floor?” asked Tommy.
“No, only the ones on the mat. He could have also put on plastic foot coverings over his muddy shoes.”
“He could hardly have gone unnoticed by Ceder in that case,” Irene said. “Those plastic coverings make a lot of noise when you’re walking in them. Not only that, they’re slippery on tile floors.”
Tommy nodded in agreement. “True. I believe he was already inside the house and waiting for Ceder.”
Irene reflected on the smell of whiskey in the house. She quickly put together a possible scenario.
“Ceder was up in his lighthouse room, drinking a glass of whiskey. He was carrying the glass in his hand as he walked down the stairs. The killer was at the foot of the stairs waiting for him.”
“Maybe he was hiding below the spiral staircase,” Åhlén said, unperturbed by the interruption. “That’s where we found this.” He pulled out a plastic bag from the pocked of his lab coat. “This is an elastic reflective band a lot of joggers use. They put it on their right upper arm when they’re jogging at night along roads with vehicle traffic. We have found half of a thumb print on it.”
“Wonderful! Now we just have to find a guy with half a thumb!” Jonny laughed at his own joke.
No one else in the room was laughing. They were all used to his lame jokes by
“Yep. We need to figure out what really happened with the company. Who else was involved? And we have to check whether can connect Thomas Bonetti and Joachim Rothstaahl.”
“Just a second, let’s back off a bit,” Andersson said, looking around the room. He took a deep breath before he continued. “Let’s go back to the case in question. Two crime scenes and three murders. So far we have nothing concrete to connect the two crime scenes, and we don’t actually know whether all three of them were killed by the same weapon. And what would connect Kjell B:son Kaegler to some damned Internet business?”
“So far we have no connection,” Tommy replied calmly. “However, he was married to one of the founders. One other founder has been killed, and the third disappeared without a trace three years ago. The only thing all three victims have in common is Sanna Kaegler.”
Andersson kept breathing heavily as he thought about all these unexpected complications. There was a whistling noise coming from his windpipe, which made Irene nervous. She thought he might have an asthma attack. Finally, Andersson made up his mind.
“We’re going to sit tight until Philip Bergman’s identity has been confirmed. Once it has, I want Irene and Tommy to head out and have a chat with that prima donna Kaegler. And don’t press too hard until we’re sure that Ceder is not the father of her son. Anything new from the lab?” The last question was directed to Åhlén who seemed to be dozing. Irene gave him asharp poke in the ribs with her elbow, and he jerked upright. He got up, walked over to Andersson, pushed his glasses up on his nose, and faced the room. As usual, he looked like a mole coming up to the surface.
“Sanna Kaegler’s hands had no trace of powder or soot residue. On the other hand, there was a considerable amount on the victim around the entrance wound and the face, which indicates he was shot at close range. We have estimated the distance at half a meter. There are no signs of forced entry to the house, but we found some muddy footprints with clay residue inside by the door at the rear of the house. There’s a lot of clay outside the doorway, and on the inside doormat, there are blurred footprints of size forty-four jogging shoes. There are also signs of dried moisture beneath a clothes hanger. The theory is that the murderer could have entered through the back door, hung up his wet coat, and changed to dry shoes. Neither the outer nor inner back doors have any sign of forced entry. Either the murderer had a key to the house or else the door had been left open.”
“There are no other footprints on the floor?” asked Tommy.
“No, only the ones on the mat. He could have also put on plastic foot coverings over his muddy shoes.”
“He could hardly have gone unnoticed by Ceder in that case,” Irene said. “Those plastic coverings make a lot of noise when you’re walking in them. Not only that, they’re slippery on tile floors.”
Tommy nodded in agreement. “True. I believe he was already inside the house and waiting for Ceder.”
Irene reflected on the smell of whiskey in the house. She quickly put together a possible scenario.
“Ceder was up in his lighthouse room, drinking a glass of whiskey. He was carrying the glass in his hand as he walked down the stairs. The killer was at the foot of the stairs waiting for him.”
“Maybe he was hiding below the spiral staircase,” Åhlén said, unperturbed by the interruption. “That’s where we found this.” He pulled out a plastic bag from the pocked of his lab coat. “This is an elastic reflective band a lot of joggers use. They put it on their right upper arm when they’re jogging at night along roads with vehicle traffic. We have found half of a thumb print on it.”
“Wonderful! Now we just have to find a guy with half a thumb!” Jonny laughed at his own joke.
No one else in the room was laughing. They were all used to his lame jokes by
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