Grendel's Game (38 page)

Why had all of this been happening? Jarl had said it was aimed at him personally. But why? They'd checked for past enemies and come up empty, but they could have overlooked something. The way ahead could lie through his own past. Grendel was a trickster, Karlsson had warned, and he'd succeeded in leading them down a blind alley. If they could just find a motive, everything would become clear. He needed to run over his thinking with Rystrom to see if he agreed.

He was pleased with his analysis. Starting tomorrow, working with Rystrom and Holm, they'd go back over his old cases in depth.

67

Rook Capture

I
t was early afternoon, and Ekman was finishing a ham sandwich on dark brown bread, while he drank an ale. On the table beside him was a new history of Catherine the Great. He was well into the first chapter when the phone rang. He put down his sandwich and checked the caller ID. It was Disa.

She sounded frantic. Her words came tumbling out, falling over themselves. “Thank God, I found you in, Walther. Thank God.”

Ekman was instantly alert. “Disa, calm down and slowly tell me what's the matter.” Something has happened to the children, he thought.

“It's Erick. He's disappeared.”

A hard knot formed in Ekman's stomach. This couldn't be happening. Not to his son. Take your own advice, Ekman, he thought; stay calm and don't jump to conclusions. This may be nothing. But in the back of his mind, a sickening fear had slithered into view.

“When did you last see him, Disa?”

“He went for what he said would be a short walk after breakfast and hasn't come back. That was four hours ago. He knew lunch would be waiting. It's totally unlike him. I kept calling his mobile, but there was no answer. He always answers when I call. Then I asked a neighbor to sit with the girls and went out looking for him along the route he usually took. There was no sign of him. I became so worried I called the police. They didn't seem concerned. They said it was much too soon to treat him as a missing person. Walther, what should I do?”

“Stay at home, Disa. I'm leaving now. I'll be with you in an hour. I'll talk to the Halmstad police about organizing a search. Erick may have taken a different route and become ill. We'll find him. Try not to worry.” But Ekman didn't really believe what he was telling her. He was terribly afraid and had started to break into a cold sweat.

Ekman phoned the duty officer in Halmstad, identified himself, and explained the situation. They needed to organize an immediate search.

Since it was a Sunday, the sergeant said, they were short staffed. They would begin a search first thing Monday.

“Let me make myself clear, Sergeant; this is not just a personal problem. My son's disappearance may be directly related to a major investigation already underway.” Ekman had a hard time keeping his voice steady. He wanted to shout at this bureaucratic imbecile who couldn't, or wouldn't, understand the dire nature of the situation.

“Perhaps you should speak with our superintendent, sir,” the sergeant said. “I'll call right now and ask Super to call you back, if you'll give me the number you'll be at.” Ekman gave him his home and mobile numbers as his fingers drummed a tattoo on the table.

He'd put on his coat and was heading for the garage when the phone rang. He didn't recognize the number, but picked up in the hope it was the Halmstad officer.

“Ekman.”

“This is Gunnel Iversen,” a woman's voice replied. “I'm superintendent in Halmstad. How can I help you, Herr Ekman?”

He carefully explained that his son had gone inexplicably missing and that his disappearance might be linked to the Grendel investigation. “We need to begin an immediate search, Fru Iversen.”

“I see,” she said. “All right. We'll have to call people in from home. It will take a little while, but we should be able to organize a search in the next few hours.”

It wasn't soon enough for Ekman, but there was no use protesting. He realized she was doing the best she could.

“I'll be in Halmstad, at my son's home, in an hour.” He gave her the address and phone number. “Please call me there when your people are ready and I'll come to your headquarters to join you.”

“I'll be there myself. I look forward to meeting you, Herr Ekman. And please,” she added in a sympathetic tone, “try not to worry about your son. He's probably fine.”

It was the sort of thing Ekman had said many times to frantic parents when a child was missing. He didn't believe it for a minute, but it was kind of her to say it.

“Thanks, Fru Iversen. I'm leaving now.”

I
t was a clear, cold day. On the drive to Halmstad, he looked at the speedometer and saw he was well over the speed limit on the E4, but didn't care. Ekman's mind was occupied with scenarios of what could have happened to Erick. He might have taken a different route, fallen ill, and lapsed into unconsciousness. Or he might have been assaulted, robbed of his identification, and knocked out. He could still be lying there, or someone might have found him, and taken him to a hospital.

These were the same possibilities they'd explored in the Westberg disappearance, without results. The one scenario he tried, without success, not to think about involved Grendel.

Ekman dreaded telling Ingbritt what was happening, but she wouldn't forgive him if he didn't let her know. He reached for his mobile and called her.

“Yes, I'm on my way to Halmstad now. The police there are organizing a search and I'll join them.”

“Walther, does this have anything to do with that terrible case you're working on?”

“There's no reason to think so.” He hoped against hope he wasn't lying to her. “Try not to worry. I'll let you know as soon as there's news.”

“I'm coming down there right away to be with Disa.”

“No. Please don't. It's important you stay where you are. As much as I want to have you with me, I must know you're safe so I can focus on finding Erick.”

“Then your case may be involved?”

He could never fool her. “It's possible, but unlikely.”

She was silent for a moment. “Walther, I'm scared.” Her voice was trembling.

“So am I. I'll call you the minute I know anything.”

After what seemed an interminable time, but was only fifty minutes, he pulled up in front of Erick's house. Disa had been watching for him and opened the door as he hurried up the front steps. He reached out to hug her and she clung to him for a moment.

“I'm so glad you're here. I've been going out of my mind with worry. Where could he be? Where?”

“Disa, let's go in and sit down. There are some questions I need answered. It will help with the search.”

She led the way into the living room and they sat down on the couch. He turned to face her. She'd been crying and her normally ruddy face was pale and tear streaked.

“When did Erick leave for his walk?”

“It was eight forty-five exactly. I remember looking at the clock.”

“How long was it before you began to worry?”

“He said it would be a short walk. I thought that meant less than an hour. When he hadn't come home by eleven, and didn't answer his mobile, I decided to go find him. I took the girls to my next-door neighbor, Fru Crabo, who looks after them sometimes when we're away. When Erick and I travel . . .” She started to cry again.

“Then you went looking for him?”

“Yes. I followed his usual route, but he wasn't anywhere. That's when I came home and first called the police. When they wouldn't help, I called you.”

“That was around one.” He checked his watch; it was now two twenty.

“Do you have a local street map?”

“It's here somewhere,” she said, looking about as though the map might materialize in front of them. Getting up, she went to a desk in the corner and, pulling open a drawer, rummaged about. “Here it is,” she said, unfolding it and spreading it out on the low coffee table in front of Ekman.

Taking out a pen and handing it to her, Ekman said, “Here, why don't you mark his route for me.”

She bent over the map and carefully traced Erick's usual path. Ekman saw it ran partly along some local streets, through a small park, and then down the beach.

“This will be very helpful to the search party,” he said, folding the map and putting it in his jacket pocket.

“Has Erick seemed different lately? Or have any unusual things happened recently?”

She thought for a moment. “Erick has been his usual self.” She hesitated. “But a month ago something strange did happen. We'd agreed not to mention it when you and Ingbritt visited because we didn't want to trouble you with such a minor thing. We just reported it to the local police.”

Ekman's body tensed. “What happened?”

“Someone broke into the house when we were out. The back door had been pried open. That's how we noticed it.”

“Was anything taken?” Ekman dreaded the answer he'd already guessed at.

“That's the strangest part: only a family photo that was on the desk.”

It fit the pattern, confirming his worst fears. It was Grendel. Now he knew the search would probably prove fruitless. Erick was gone. His face had turned ashen and his hands clenched so tightly his fingernails dug into his palms.

Disa looked at him with eyes wide with concern. “Are you all right, Walther? Let me get you some water,” she said, jumping up and going to the kitchen. She came back in a moment with a glass.

“Here, drink this, you'll feel better.”

He took the glass with a hand they both saw was shaking, and gulped down half the water. Get control of yourself, Ekman, he thought. If there's any chance of finding Erick, it's up to you.

“Do you know how to access Erick's computer? I'd like to check it.”

Disa looked at him with surprise. “Yes, of course. It's in his study.” She got up and he followed her down the hall to the study that looked out on the back of the house.

Booting up the computer, she entered the password.

“This may take some time, Disa,” Ekman said, and added, although he had no appetite: “Why don't you fix us a sandwich. I'm starving.” He looked after her as she left. He wanted her out of the room while he found out if Erick had been playing chess and who he'd been playing against.

Erick had been playing, and for the last two months his opponent had usually been Stina Lindfors. Her picture came up beside the chessboard's image. There were also e-mails tacked alongside. She'd been flirting with Erick. But his replies had been very cool; he'd actively discouraged her. Ekman was relieved: Erick had no plans to meet her. He shut down the computer and got up as Disa came back into the room.

“Do you want to eat now, Walther? The sandwiches are ready.”

“Yes, that's fine, Disa.” They went across the hall to the large, sun-filled kitchen.

“Did you find anything helpful on the computer?” she asked as they sat down across from one another at a table looking out on the backyard.

“No, nothing of interest,” Ekman replied, his lie masked by a small bite of the ham and cheese sandwich. He took a sip of the beer she'd put beside his plate.

“Should I go with you to the police station to help with the search?”

“That won't be necessary. I have the map you drew. Why don't you get the girls? They need to be reassured everything will be fine,” he said, although he knew now all their lives would never be the same.

“I'll do that then. They were worried. Even though I didn't tell them Erick was missing, they knew something was wrong.”

The phone rang. Disa jumped up and almost ran across the kitchen to the wall phone. Maybe it was Erick. She listened for a moment, turned to Ekman and said in a despondent voice, “It's for you.”

Gunnel Iversen was on the phone. “We're ready to begin the search,” she said.

“Give me the address of your headquarters.”

“Norra Kallegatan 3. Do you know how to get here?”

“I have a map. I'll be there in five minutes.”

Ekman kissed Disa on the cheek. “Try not to worry; for the girls' sakes. I'll call as soon as I know something.”

“I can't stop worrying. You're right. I need to be calm for the girls.”

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