Grendel's Game (14 page)

He suddenly realized he was quite hungry. “Are you free for a late lunch, Enar?”

“Sure, Chief. Just give me few minutes to finish something I'm working on. Where do you want to go? The cafeteria?”

“Not there. How about the little place across the square?” It was a favorite of his.

23

Knight Down

T
he wind had died and the sun was still very bright. Ekman put on his sunglasses as they came out of headquarters and strolled around the perimeter of the busy plaza filled with pedestrians and traffic.

Sitting near a window where they could look out on the square, Ekman and Holm consulted the day's menu written on the large chalkboard hanging on the front wall.

“I think I'll have my usual,” said Ekman.

“The herring?” asked Holm, remembering their last visit the previous week.

“Yes. And a bottle of Dugges.”

“I'll just have a salad and sparkling water. I need to watch my weight.” There was a fleeting, hurt look on Ekman's face.

“Maybe I'll have that ale after all,” Holm said.

When the waitress had taken their order, Ekman asked, “Have you had a chance to look at that list of names I gave you?”

“Yes, I've been able to eliminate three so far. Two have died and another has moved to Canada. I should be finished with a first cut at the others later tomorrow.”

“I think it's a long shot that Grendel is some kind of enemy of mine from the past, but it's still worth pursuing. Thanks for taking it on.”

“Glad to do it, Chief.”

Ekman devoured the assorted open-faced herring sandwiches on brown bread. He liked the smoked ones and those in mustard sauce best. He thought about having a second ale, but they both needed to get back to work. Besides, he didn't want Holm to think he was ignoring his weight problem.

E
kman settled in at his computer and began typing. Malmer was going to have to be brought up to date and he wanted to do it in writing. The phone rang. It was Rosengren.

“Chief, we can't find Rodger Westberg.”

“What do you mean you can't find him?” Ekman asked, in an exasperated voice.

“We called him at home to set up an interview, but when no one answered, figured he was at work. We called his mobile, but got no response, so we called his law office. They haven't seen him in two days, he never called in, and didn't answer their calls. They were getting really worried and were just about to call us.

“So we went over to his place, thinking he might be sick or something. When he didn't answer, we thought maybe he'd passed out, so we got the manager to let us in. No one was there. The place was tidy. We checked the bedroom closet. Maybe he went on a trip without telling anybody, but no clothes seemed to be missing and his suitcase was still there. We thought you should know right away because it's Westberg's son.” He paused. “And we'd heard around the shop that you've got a crew looking into missing-person cases.”

“Okay, you did right calling me. Don't do anything more on this until you hear from me. You and Alenius plan on coming in tomorrow and meeting with me and the others working missing persons. At eight, in my conference room.”

“We'll be there, Chief.”

Ekman sat there for a few minutes digesting the news. Suddenly, the Westberg case had the possibility of becoming more than one in a string of burglaries. It might be linked to the other missing-person cases they'd been working on, hoping to get a lead they could follow to Grendel. But Ekman didn't want to jump to conclusions. There could be many other explanations for the younger Westberg's disappearance.

He debated with himself whether to tell Malmer about his suspicions. Although Malmer was obnoxious, he wasn't stupid. He knew Ekman was looking into missing-person cases and would make the connection quickly enough. It was best to bring it right out in the open before he did.

“Is he in, Annika? I need to see him right away. He's busy? He'll want to see me anyway. Tell him it's about the Westberg case.”

On his way out, Ekman said to Holm, “Rodger Westberg's suddenly gone missing. No one knows where. I'm on my way to see Malmer.”

Holm's head jerked up. “This will really complicate things.”

“Yes. And will put even more pressure on us,” said Ekman, hurrying to the elevator.

A
few minutes later he was sitting in Malmer's office.

“What's all this about Westberg? You interrupted me in the middle of a conference call with Stockholm, so this better be important.”

“It is. As you asked, I became personally involved in the Westberg case, interviewing the couple, and going over the crime scene. Fru Westberg gave me the names of several others to speak with. I also discovered where someone had been watching the house from a nearby hill and found some binocular lens covers there. They've been sent to forensics. Alenius and Rosengren are assisting me, and Rosengren called me a few minutes ago. The information he gave me is why I needed to see you.”

“Yes, yes,” said Malmer. “You still haven't told me anything so important you needed to interrupt me.”

“I wanted you to know the background of what's happened. Rosengren just told me Rodger Westberg has disappeared.”

“What do you mean ‘disappeared'?”

“Exactly that. He's been missing from work, and it seems his apartment, for two days. He doesn't answer his phone. His office was about to call us when Alenius and Rosengren turned up to interview him about the break-in. I thought you should know about this before I speak with the Westbergs again today. You'll no doubt hear from Herr Westberg after I do.”

Malmer was silent for a moment. “This is awful. I'll have to speak with the commissioner.”

“Yes, he needs to be informed. But there's more. We've been looking into unusual missing-person cases in connection with the Grendel matter. The Westberg disappearance may, I stress
may
, be related.”

“You're implying that a madman, a possible cannibal for God's sake, has grabbed Westberg's son? How am I supposed to break that news to him?” Malmer's face paled. Ekman guessed he was racing through all the horrendous political and media ramifications.

“We don't know Grendel is involved at all, or for that matter, even in any of the other missing-person cases. So I would never mention this to the Westbergs. My team has been meeting every day since the first letter came and we'll be at it again tomorrow morning to review all those cases, including Westberg's. I propose to tell his parents that their son's disappearance is now our first priority. When you speak with him, Olov, you can assure him we're doing everything possible, and will continue to do so.”

“Yes, that's the approach to take. Say nothing about that lunatic. They'll only get hysterical. And besides, as you say, there may be no connection at all.” Malmer seemed somewhat relieved.

“Westberg may just have gone away suddenly and for some reason chosen to stay out of touch,” said Ekman in a reassuring voice. “Or he's shacked-up with a new girlfriend, or had a nervous breakdown. Those are the good alternatives. The bad ones are an assault with serious injury, kidnapping, or murder. When I speak with Westberg's parents, I'll try and get information about the better possibilities. While I'm doing that, Alenius and Rosengren will be checking hospitals for anyone with his description. He could be unconscious and without identification if he was robbed. They'll also check the morgue. Then they'll interview people at his office for leads.”

“Those seem like the right steps. Let's pray this turns out to be nothing serious,” said Malmer, his fingers tapping on his desk. He was clearly shaken by the sudden turn of events. He had even abandoned his usual readiness to blame Ekman for anything that went wrong.

“I'll keep you updated as this develops,” said Ekman, getting out of that damned chair. His back had already begun to ache.

C
alling Rosengren, Ekman told him to get a photo and physical description of Rodger Westberg from his office, and then begin checking hospitals for anyone resembling him who was admitted in the last two days. If there was some question about a possible identification, he was to take over a photo. After the hospitals, he was to call the county morgue.

“And while you're doing this, tell Alenius to start interviewing everyone at Westberg's office, asking about his appointments for the last week, any unusual behavior, or what they know about his personal life. As soon as either of you learn anything significant, call me.”

“Got it, Chief. We're on it,” Rosengren said, glad to show Ekman they were now working the case with enthusiasm.

24

The Westbergs

E
kman called Eugen Westberg. “Herr Westberg, something important has come up and I need to speak with you and your wife right away. Can I meet you at your house in half an hour? No, I'd rather not discuss this on the phone. And yes, I realize I'm asking you and Fru Westberg to drop everything to meet with me. I wouldn't ask this unless it was absolutely necessary. When we speak, I think you'll agree this was the right thing to do. Okay, I'll see you then.”

Pulling into Westberg's drive, he saw a large, black Jaguar sedan parked in front. He guessed this was Westberg's. They'd been waiting for him; the door opened as he approached.

“Well, Herr Ekman, this had better be good. My wife is upset and the rest of my day is ruined,” said Westberg, as Ekman entered.

He ignored the remark. “Can we sit down?” he replied, as Westberg led the way into the living room. His wife was already there, standing beside the mantel of the floor-to-ceiling white brick fireplace.

The couple sat on the couch while Ekman occupied a facing armchair.

“I apologize for this abrupt interview,” he began. “Would you please tell me if either of you has spoken with your son in the last two days?”

“No, we haven't, have we Eugen?” asked his wife. Westberg shook his head. “But has something happened to Rodger?” Her voice was anxious.

“Your son, I'm sorry to have to tell you, appears to be missing. My officers went to his office to do a routine interview with him about the break-in and were told he hasn't been in for two days. They next went to his apartment, thinking he might be seriously ill. He wasn't there and everything appeared to be in order. No one has been able to reach him by phone.”

“My wife and I spoke with him separately as recently as last week,” said Westberg, his hands clasped together. “This is incredible.”

“Do either of you know of any business or personal problems your son had lately?”

“No, nothing. Everything was fine,” said Westberg.

“Did he mention a new girlfriend perhaps?”

“He's been seeing just one girl for quite some time, well over a year. As far as I know, they're still seeing each other,” said Fru Westberg.

“We'll need to speak with her. Do you have her name and address?”

“Her name is Stina Lindfors. She's an accountant. I don't know her address.” The dismissive tone told Ekman that Stina Lindfors was not one of Fru Westberg's favorite people. Her husband seemed about to interrupt, but stopped himself.

“I take it, you've met her?”

“Yes. Rodger asked us to invite her here for dinner. He's very serious about her, I'm afraid.”

“Forgive me for saying this, Fru Westberg, but I get the impression you don't like her. Is there some particular reason?”

“There's just something about her that seems artificial, put on. Perhaps I'm prejudiced,” she said, in a tone that indicated she didn't think so.

“My wife thinks she's just not right for our son,” interrupted Westberg. “But many mothers no doubt feel that way about losing an only son.” He turned to his wife. “It's time Rodger settled down, and if he thinks this is the right woman for him, we shouldn't stand in the way.”