Dark Secrets (21 page)

“Yes.”

“Why? What’s so special about this case that we need the great Sebastian Bergman?”

“We haven’t solved it, and Sebastian is available.” Torkel could hear for himself how hollow that sounded. It was less than two days since the body had been found, and they could expect a breakthrough on several fronts today if the videos from the CCTV cameras delivered what they promised. And available? Was that enough of a reason to bring him into the investigation? Of course not. Any number of psychologists were available. Several of them better than Sebastian in his current state, Torkel was convinced. So why was Sebastian sitting here? Torkel owed him nothing. Quite the opposite. His life would be easier without his former colleague on the scene. But there had been something brutally honest about Sebastian’s request. Something desperate. Sebastian might try to appear detached and unmoved, but Torkel sensed an emptiness there. A sorrow. It sounded exaggerated, but Torkel had the feeling that Sebastian’s life—or, at the very least, his mental health—depended on his being allowed into this investigation. To put it simply, Torkel’s only reason was that it had felt right.

At the time. In the hotel dining room.

He could feel a seed of doubt beginning to grow inside him.

“Plus I’ve actually lost a bit.”

All four of them turned as one to Sebastian, who was straightening up in his chair.

“Sorry?”

“Ursula called me ‘the
great
Sebastian Bergman.’ But I’ve lost a bit of weight. Unless, of course, you were referring to the size of something else.” Sebastian smiled meaningfully at Ursula.

“That’s enough! Thirty seconds and you’ve already started!” Ursula turned to Torkel. “Are you seriously telling me we’re supposed to try to work together?”

Sebastian threw his hands wide in a gesture of apology.

“I’m sorry. I apologize. I didn’t realize a reference to a great intellect would cause such offense within this particular team.”

Ursula snorted, shook her head, and folded her arms across her chest. The way she looked at Torkel clearly indicated that she expected him to come up with a solution and that this would involve Sebastian’s disappearance. Vanja, who had no previous experience of Sebastian, was gazing at him with a mixture of disbelief and fascination. As if he were a great big insect under a microscope.

“Are you for real?”

Sebastian spread his arms wide once more.

“The whole of this fantastic body is for real.”

Torkel could feel the seed of doubt growing. Usually things worked out extremely well when he went with his gut feeling. But now? How long had it been? Three minutes? And the atmosphere in the room was worse than it had been for many years. If ever. Torkel raised his voice.

“Okay, that’s enough. Sebastian, I’d like you to leave us now. Go and find a seat somewhere else and read up on the case.”

He held a folder out to Sebastian. Sebastian grabbed it but Torkel didn’t let go, forcing Sebastian to meet his gaze.

Sebastian looked up at him with a searching expression.

“And you will treat me and my staff with respect in the future. I brought you in. I can kick you out. Clear?”

“Oh, absolutely, it must be terribly difficult to cope with my lack of respect when everyone has done their very best to make me feel welcome.”

The irony was wasted on Torkel.

“I’m not joking. If you don’t get your act together, you’re out. Clear?”

Sebastian realized that this was not the right moment to take on Torkel. He nodded obediently.

“I apologize unreservedly to every single one of you. For everything. From now on you’ll hardly even notice I’m here.”

Torkel let go of the folder. Sebastian tucked it under his arm and gave a little wave to the four people in the room.

“See you later.”

Sebastian pushed open the door and left. Ursula turned to Torkel, but before she had time to launch into her harangue, Haraldsson tapped on the door frame and came into the room.

“We received an e-mail.”

He handed a printout to Torkel. Vanja moved closer so that she could read over his shoulder, which proved unnecessary, since Haraldsson was about to tell them what it said.

“It’s from someone who says Roger’s jacket is in Leo Lundin’s garage.”

Torkel didn’t even need to say anything. Ursula and Billy pushed past Haraldsson in the doorway and disappeared.

Sebastian walked through the office with the folder he had no intention of opening under his arm. So far, so good. He was part of the investigation; now all he had to do was get what he had come for. If you really wanted to find someone, the police computer system was the place to look. There was the criminal records database for a start; not everybody was on there, and hopefully Anna Eriksson wasn’t there either, but the amount of information—apart from a possible criminal record—that the right person could get hold of via the police was impressive. That was the power he needed.

It was just a matter of finding the person who was going to help him.

The right person for the job.

He allowed his gaze to roam over the workstations. He decided on a woman of about forty over by the window. Short, practical hairstyle. Subtle makeup. Small, neat earrings. Brown eyes. Wedding ring. Sebastian walked over to her and switched on his smile.

“Hi. My name is Sebastian Bergman, and I’m working with Riksmord starting today.” Sebastian jerked his head in the direction of the conference room when the woman looked up from her work.

“I see. Hi. Martina.”

“Hi, Martina. Listen, I need help with something.”

“No problem. What is it?”

“I need to find an Anna Eriksson. She was living at this address in Stockholm in 1979.”

He placed the envelope that had been returned to his mother on the desk in front of Martina. She glanced at it, then looked up at Sebastian with a hint of suspicion in her eyes.

“Does she have some connection to the investigation?”

“Yes, indeed. Absolutely. Definitely.”

“So why don’t you look her up yourself?”

Yes, why didn’t he? Fortunately the truth worked, for once.

“I only started today, and I haven’t been given my username and password and so on.” Sebastian gave her his most captivating smile, but could see from Martina’s expression that it wasn’t working. She fingered the envelope on the desk and shook her head.

“So why don’t you ask somebody on your team to do it, then? They’ve got access to the entire system.”

And why aren’t you just happy to be able to help out a high-profile murder investigation? Why don’t you find what I’m looking for and stop asking so many fucking questions?
Sebastian thought as he leaned a little closer. Confided in her.

“To be perfectly honest, it’s a bit of a long shot on my part, and you know, it’s my first day, I don’t want to make a fool of myself.”

“I’d be happy to help you, but I just need to check it out with your boss first. We can’t just look people up when we feel like it.”

“It’s not a matter of…”

Sebastian broke off as he saw Torkel emerge from the conference room and gaze around the office. Evidently he found what he was looking for: Sebastian. Torkel was heading straight for him. Sebastian grabbed the envelope and straightened up quickly.

“Never mind. Forget it. I’ll get someone on the team to help instead. That’s probably the easiest thing to do. Thanks anyway.”

Sebastian started walking before he had finished speaking. He wanted to put enough distance between himself, Torkel, and Martina
so that she wouldn’t decide to ask Torkel in passing if it was okay to look up Anna Eriksson from 1979. That would make Torkel wonder why, call into question Sebastian’s motives for wanting to join the investigation, and put Torkel on his guard for no reason. So Sebastian kept on walking away from Martina. Step by step. Until… “Sebastian.”

Sebastian conducted a quick debate with himself. Did he need to give a reason for his conversation with the female officer? Perhaps it would be best. He decided to go for the explanation Torkel probably had in mind anyway.

“I was just on my way to read this, but I was distracted by a tight, well-filled top.”

Torkel wondered if this was the time to explain to Sebastian that starting today he was part of Riksmord. That everything he did reflected on the whole team. And that it was therefore not a good idea to try to get married colleagues from the local force into bed. But Torkel knew that Sebastian already knew that. Knew and didn’t care.

“We’ve had an anonymous tip directing our attention back to Leo Lundin. Ursula and Billy have gone to check it out, but I wondered if you wanted to go over there and have a chat with the mother.”

“Clara?”

“Yes, you seemed to be getting on well.”

Well, yes, you could say that. Extremely well.
Clara was another woman who would not only put Torkel on his guard but get Sebastian kicked out before he knew what had hit him. You didn’t go to bed with the mother of a boy suspected of murder. Sebastian was pretty sure Torkel would be firm on that particular point.

“I don’t think so. It’s probably better if I read up on the case, see if I can come up with something new.”

For a moment it looked as if Torkel might object, but then he nodded.

“Okay, you do that.”

“Just one more thing—could you arrange for me to have access to the computers here, please? Criminal records, the whole lot.”

Torkel looked genuinely puzzled.

“Why?”

“Why not?”

“Because you’re well known for running your own race.” Torkel moved closer. Sebastian knew why. There was no reason to let curious ears know there were potential rifts within the team. To the outside world they were united. That was important. It also meant that whatever Torkel was about to say, it was unlikely to be entirely positive. And it wasn’t.

“You are not a full member of the team. You are a consultant. Any investigations you wish to carry out, any leads you want to follow up, everything goes through one of us. Billy, preferably.”

Sebastian tried not to show his disappointment. He didn’t quite manage it.

“Do you have a problem with that?”

“No. Not at all. Your decision.”

Fucking Torkel.
Now it was going to take longer than he’d thought. He had no intention of being part of this investigation for too long. And definitely not an active part. He was not about to speak to, interview, or analyze anything or anyone. Nor was he going to come up with possible scenarios or perpetrator profiles. He would get what he had come here for—an updated, current address for Anna Eriksson, or whatever her name might be these days—and then he would quickly and efficiently disentangle himself from the team, leave town, and never come back.

Sebastian held up the folder.

“In that case I’ll start reading.”

“One more thing, Sebastian.”

Sebastian sighed. Couldn’t he just go and sit down somewhere with a cup of coffee and pretend to read?

“You’re here as a favor to a friend. Because I believed you when you said you really needed this. I don’t expect gratitude, but now it’s up to you to make sure I don’t end up regretting my decision.”

Before Sebastian had time to respond, Torkel turned and left. Sebastian gazed after him.

He felt no gratitude.

Of course Torkel would end up regretting his decision.

That’s what happened to everyone who let Sebastian into their lives.

Billy opened the garage door. No car at the moment, although there was plenty of room for one. Which was unusual. Over the years Billy and Ursula had been inside a number of garages. Most of them were full of just about everything, apart from a vehicle. But in the Lundins’ garage they were faced with an empty expanse of floor, dirty and stained with oil, and with a drain in the center. Billy pushed the door all the way up as Ursula reached for the light switch.

They stepped inside. The two bare fluorescent bulbs on the ceiling flickered to life but they both took out their flashlights anyway. Without needing to say a word they each began to examine one side of the garage. Ursula took the right, Billy the left. The floor on Ursula’s side was virtually bare. There was an old croquet game and, in the corner, a plastic bocce set with one ball missing. And an electric lawnmower. Ursula picked it up. Empty. Just like last time. The shelves lining the walls were crowded, but there was nothing to indicate that there had ever been a car in the garage. No oil, spark plugs, lock deicer, or lightbulbs. There was, however, plenty of gardening equipment: edging tools, half-empty seed packets, gloves, and weed-killer sprays. Nowhere to hide a jacket. Ursula would be very surprised if the information in the e-mail proved to be correct. If the jacket was in here, she would have found it the first time.