Grendel's Game (42 page)

The pounding had increased, and the demands of the voice outside had become more insistent. Ekman went over to Grendel's body and, reaching into the coat pocket, took out his phone. He called Rystrom.

“It's over, Garth. Grendel is dead. I'm coming out. Tell your people not to shoot.”

Ekman walked with halting steps out of the meat locker and staggered down the stairs to the garage. Beside the door was a control switch. As the door rose, he stood motionless, arms raised over his head, his figure illuminated in the spotlights' blinding glare.

73

Resignation

T
uesday, October 25.
The storm had left a deep blanket of snow covering Stortorget square. It was eleven a.m. and brilliant sunshine was streaming through the windows of the commissioner's office. Ekman was standing in front of Norlander's desk. He'd just handed him his resignation.

H
e'd made his statement and been released late the previous night, and as soon as the sun rose, Ingbritt had driven home to be with him. He met her at the side door to the garage and clasped her tightly in his arms. Both their faces were wet with tears.

“I almost lost you, too,” she said, looking up at him.

“No, Grendel never intended to kill me. He wanted me to suffer. That's why he killed Erick,” he said, leading her into the kitchen. She threw her coat over a chair and they sat facing each other as he told her everything that had happened.

“You didn't have a choice, Walther.”

“Yes, I did. But I couldn't put Johan at risk. I chose to break my oath as a police officer. I had no right to execute him. He was a human being.”

“He was a monster, a mass murderer. And our Erick was one of his victims. I have no pity, no sympathy. And don't you dare have any for that creature.” Ingbritt's face had gone white and her eyes had again filled with tears. Ekman had never seen her so ferociously angry.

“Justice was done and another murder prevented, because that's what would have happened. You knew it, and acted the only way you could.

“I'd never forgive you if you hadn't,” she said in a whisper.

Ekman took her in his arms and brushed the tears off her cheeks. “I did what I felt I had to. But Ingbritt, please try and understand I can't go on as a police officer. I'm resigning this morning ‘for personal reasons.' There's no need for me to bring more grief on this family by telling what actually happened. It will be investigated, but the decision will be justifiable homicide, self-defense.”

“Walther, the police have been your entire life. Don't just walk away.”

“There you're wrong. You and our family have been my life, and that will go on. It's all I want.”

“It's your decision, but I know you, Walther Ekman, you need that work,” she said, her voice pleading as she smoothed back his hair.

“My mind's made up. I'm meeting with Norlander this morning.”

^“
W
alther, I refuse to accept this resignation,” Norlander said, tearing the sheet of paper in half and throwing it in the wastebasket.

“You're obviously terribly depressed about your son, and having to kill Grendel. This is not the time for you to make such a decision. You're still on administrative leave, and will be until the board of inquiry makes its finding. After that I want you to go on vacation for at least a few weeks. Go to some place warm, far away, and recover from all this horror. Then come back here and we'll talk about you resigning.”

“Commissioner, I won't change my mind.”

“Maybe you won't. We'll see. But you should know I think you're the finest officer we have, and everyone on the force thinks the same. We can't afford to lose you. No, don't say anything, just think about it.”

Norlander got up and, coming over to Ekman, took his hand. “Go home, Walther, and rest.”

74

Rystrom Explains

I
n the afternoon, three days after Ekman's parents had hurriedly flown home for Erick's private, family funeral, Garth Rystrom appeared on Ekman's doorstep. It was bitter cold outside and the sky was overcast as Ekman let him in.

Rystrom was shocked by his appearance. Ekman's pallid face was drawn and lines had suddenly appeared that aged him years. Instead of his usual impeccable clothes, he was wearing an old robe over pajamas.

They shook hands without saying anything as they stood in the front hall for a moment. “Ingbritt is asleep . . . finally,” Ekman said. “She's had to take pills to rest. It's been absolute hell for her . . . and all of us. My parents could barely stand during the funeral service.”

He led Rystrom down the hall to his study.

Ekman wanted to talk about what had happened, but knew he couldn't tell even his friend the entire truth. It would just burden Rystrom. He did want to go over the case, however.

“Please sit down, Garth. Can I get you something?”

“No thanks, I'm fine. The entire team wanted to come with me, but I told them it would be too soon. They'll come by individually later this week, if you feel up to it.”

“I'm not an invalid, Garth. Tell them I'd be really pleased to see them.”

“You should know I'm heading back to Stockholm at the end of the month. Norlander has decided to take your recommendation. Rapp is being promoted to chief inspector and he'll be handling things after I leave.”

“Good. You'll be missed, but he'll be okay.”

They sat in silence for a few minutes.

“Have you learned anything more?” asked Ekman.

“A few things. We found a kind of shrine in Grendel's apartment. He'd set up the stolen photos of the victims and their families, and some jewelry, in a corner of his bedroom. We also found bank statements. He was rich. They added up to five million kronor.”

“Grendel told me he'd had some wealthy customers when he worked as a prostitute; they must have been very generous. That's how he paid for the van and the . . . warehouse.” Ekman couldn't say meat locker. It brought up an image of Erick and those other frozen bodies suspended on hooks. It was seared into his brain and kept coming back, much as he tried to shut it out.

“Those wealthy clients included several well-known politicians he was blackmailing; that's where most of the money came from. We found DVDs he'd made hidden behind a cabinet. They were taken in another apartment we haven't located yet, but I'm betting was in Stockholm.

“We also wondered how he'd gotten the job in Edvardsson's office. By the way, Walther, she'd also very much like to see you. She's beyond shocked, finding out Grendel was sitting in her outer office the whole time, reading your confidential reports. Malin did the usual checks before hiring Grendel, but his forged ID and background story held up.

“We traced Malin's previous receptionist in Malmö. After we applied some pressure, she admitted she'd been deeply in debt and desperate. Grendel, as Sundquist, bribed her to quit and recommend him for the job. He paid her two hundred thousand kronor. She was lucky his obsession was with men and he didn't kill her to make certain she stayed silent.”

“He only killed men who must have had a resemblance to the stepfather he hated,” Ekman said. “I don't think it was coincidence they looked similar. The two thieves were incidental victims. Perhaps they wouldn't agree to leave town after he paid them off. That was their fatal mistake.”

Rystrom nodded agreement. “We went to the bar where Stillen vanished. The bartender noticed a woman who'd come in through the rear entrance and went over to Stillen. They spoke for a few minutes and then left together out the back. And that was Stillen's fatal mistake.”

“Grendel must have been tracking Stillen, just as we were,” Ekman said. “He decided to revenge himself for being dumped years before, and at the same time, keep us running around searching for Stillen. It fit his game plan to make us think Stillen was Grendel. Just as the special knot he used was intended to add to our suspicions when we learned Stillen had worked in a naval supply store.”

“Yes,” said Rystrom, “and by making Lindfors appear an accomplice, he revenged himself on her, too. He must have thought it was an absolute gift when she got involved with the Westbergs. It gave her and Stillen the perfect motive for murdering Rodger. He knew this would keep us focused on them.”

“Well, Garth, I guess that wraps it up. There will never be another case like this.”

“Grendel was a one off, thank God. And thank God you escaped, Walther. It was a close thing. We almost didn't find you. Holm caught a glimpse of the van just as it went into the garage before the GPS was blocked. When I read in your statement what Grendel said to you, that all the killings were about taking revenge on you for his father, I thought only your quick action saved you from becoming his last victim.”

“Yes,” said Ekman, “I was lucky.” But he knew this was only part of the truth.

75

Endgame

A
fter his conversation with Rystrom, Ekman decided he had to talk with someone besides Ingbritt about what had really happened. The burden of keeping it to himself had become too much.

The next afternoon, he was sitting in Jarl Karlsson's study, with a glass of Renat in his hand. A steady rain was beating against the windows.

He'd told Karlsson the entire story, omitting nothing. Jarl was looking at him with compassion.

“Well, what do you think? Don't spare my feelings.”

“It's clear you acted outside the law. There was no charge, no trial, and no sentence. You were Grendel's judge and executioner in a country that has no death penalty. Grendel would no doubt have been found insane and committed to an institution.”

“So I set myself above the law I've spent my life trying to uphold.”

“Yes. But you should realize that when you did you were playing Grendel's game, and you're still playing it.”

“What do you mean?” Ekman asked, his eyebrows raised in surprise.

“Simply that. As Grendel said, he never intended to kill you, but he did want you to kill him. It's part of the pathology of many serial killers that they want to be caught and punished. The rate of killing had speeded up and reached a crescendo. Grendel guessed accurately what would provoke you most: seeing Erick's body and his promise to kill your grandson. He threatened to cut off your posterity, just as his was cut off. He knew this would bring you to the point where you would kill him. He let you knock him down.

“Grendel satisfied his need for punishment, and at the same time, makes you like himself, a killer. In doing so, he also forces you to punish yourself. He makes you suffer from overwhelming guilt, which leads you to destroy your own career and the work that gives you satisfaction.

“As long as you do this, even in death, he wins. This is Grendel's final gambit in his elaborate game: check and mate.”

“My God, Jarl, he planned all this to come out the way it has?”