“Fine.”
Gunnar muttered something, and turned up the volume on the radio just in time to hear the last tones of that damned rock track fade away.
*
Anneli walked a few steps behind Gunnar down the corridor. Her lips were pursed as she glared at his back. She knew that he felt her gaze, so she glared a bit harder just for the sake of it.
Gunnar stopped a moment by his office.
Anneli noticed a fax from the National Forensic Lab, SKL, in his in-tray. Probably important. But she didn’t say anything, just walked straight on. She was well aware that he would immediately read the fax anyway. She went down the corridor, still with a grumpy look on her face. But as soon as she entered the conference room she straightened up and switched off her private side.
Since Anneli and Gunnar chose never to discuss their relationship with anybody, they never showed their feelings openly either. They’d been a couple before she was employed by the criminal investigation unit in Norrk?ping, where Gunnar was the senior officer. When the position of criminal technician was advertised on the police intranet, Anneli had compiled her CV, with her experience at SKL in Link?ping, and sent in the application to the head of the department as stated, who in this case happened to be her lover. Anneli had not seen any obstacles to working together with her life partner.
Gunnar, for his part, found himself in a dilemma, and first considered setting Anneli’s application aside because of a possible conflict of interest. But since Anneli’s professional experience outshone that of all the other applicants, Gunnar’s decision to employ her made the most sense. The fact that Gunnar and Anneli had kept the relationship secret made his decision easier, and they decided to continue to be as discreet as possible in their professional life.
But the rumor of their relationship spread anyway and some malicious gossip circulated that Anneli had landed the job by sleeping with her boss. It didn’t make any difference that she had a unique talent for discovering out-of-the-ordinary evidence, such as broken vegetation or a faint tire track that others would miss. The only thing certain coworkers chose to see was that she was in a relationship with her boss.
What many people didn’t know, or couldn’t be bothered to find out, was that Anneli and Gunnar had an on-and-off relationship. For the sake of their son they had attempted to live together, but when the boy turned ten years old last month, they agreed to call it quits. Their commitment wasn’t strong enough to stay together as a couple. Their emotions were like a roller coaster; all told they had moved in together and then separated seven times. The last stint of living together had lasted ten months. Recently it was Gunnar who told Anneli he wanted a break.
Anneli pushed aside all thoughts of Gunnar now as she said hello to Mia and Ola, who were sitting at the table.
Mia immediately said, “A witness has seen a white van at Viddviken.”
Anneli was going to answer when Gunnar rushed in. He was holding the fax from SKL in his hand.
“They’ve identified the fingerprints on the threatening letters,” Gunnar said excitedly. “Where’s Henrik?”
“He’s interviewing Kerstin again. Evidently she has lied about a lot of money,” Ola quickly replied.
“That’s not the only thing she has lied about. I must get hold of Henrik right away!”
*
Peter Ramstedt’s neck was bright red as he stepped into the interview room for the second time that day. The lawyer swung his briefcase up onto the table, grabbed a notepad and pen out of it and then dropped the case to the floor. He unbuttoned his jacket with both hands and swept the two sides back like a cape before settling down on the chair. Now he sat there with his arms crossed and clicked his pen incessantly with his right thumb.
Henrik Levin smiled vaguely to himself. He had the trump card in his hand. The statements from the bank staff were very important, but it wasn’t until Gunnar phoned him that the last bits of the puzzle had fallen into place.
“I’d like to ask you...” Henrik said to Kerstin Juhlén, who was sitting with her shoulders hunched and yellow plastic slippers sticking out under the table, “...do you normally shop with cash or a bank card?”
Kerstin stared up at him.
“Card.”
“You never use cash?”
“No.”
“Never?”
“Well, on the odd occasion perhaps.”
“How often would you say?”
“I don’t know. Once a month, I should think.”
“Where do you withdraw your cash from?”
Ramstedt continued to click his pen.
Henrik wanted to grab the pen off him and squirt the ink onto the lawyer’s red tie.
Kerstin interrupted his thoughts.
“Well, when I need to, I use an ATM.”
“Which ATM?”
“The one in Ingelsta, next to the café.”
“Do you always go to the same one?”
“Yes.”
“How much money do you usually get out?”
“Usually five hundred kronor.”
“You don’t go to a bank teller to withdraw money?”
“No, never.”
Kerstin put her little finger up to her lips and bit at her nail audibly.
“So you have never visited a bank?”
“Well, yes, of course I have.”
“When did you last visit a bank?”
“Perhaps a year ago.”
“What did you do when you went?”
“Perhaps it was even longer ago. I can’t really remember.”
“So you haven’t been in a bank since then?”
Silence.
Henrik repeated the question: “So you haven’t been in a bank since then?”
“No, I haven’t.”
“Strange,” said Henrik. “We have two witnesses who can confirm that you have been seen at the bank in Hageby.”
Ramstedt stopped clicking.
For a few moments there was silence.
Henrik could hear his own breathing.
“But I haven’t been there,” said Kerstin anxiously.
Henrik got up and walked to one corner of the room. He stood underneath a camera fastened to the ceiling and pointed at it.
“In all bank premises they have cameras like this, which register all customers who come and go.”
“Hang on a moment,” said Ramstedt, getting up too. “I need to have a few words with my client.”
Henrik pretended not to hear him.
He returned to the table and looked straight at Kerstin.
“So I ask you again. Have you been to the bank at Hageby?”
Ramstedt quickly put his hand on Kerstin’s shoulder to stop her from answering.
But she answered anyway.
“Perhaps, I may have.”
Henrik sat down on the chair.
“For what purpose were you there?”
“Withdrawing money.”
Ramstedt let go of Kerstin’s shoulder, sighed and sat down again.
“How much money did you withdraw?”
“A few thousand. Two, perhaps.”
“Stop lying now. You have withdrawn forty thousand kronor from your joint savings account each month for the past ten months.”
“Have I?”
“As I said, I have two witnesses, Kerstin.”
“Don’t answer,” Ramstedt urged her, but again Kerstin ignored him.
“Well, then I must have, mustn’t I,” she said quietly and with that response, her lawyer lost his control and threw his pen across the room.
Henrik instinctively ducked even though the pen passed by him at a distance. It hit the door and fell to the floor. Henrik looked at Ramstedt, then smiled to himself. He said nothing, which he knew would irritate the lawyer more than any verbal response. Instead he calmly returned to the subject.
“What did you want the money for?”
“Clothes.”
“Clothes?”
“Yes.”
“So you have shopped for clothes for forty thousand kronor a month?”
“Yes.”
“I don’t mean to be offensive, but for that much money I think you can buy considerably better clothes than a T-shirt and some plastic sandals.”
Kerstin quickly pulled her feet in under the table.
“For the last ten months either you or your husband have been receiving threatening letters from somebody,” he said.
“I don’t know anything about that.”
“I think you do.”
“No, I don’t. I swear. It was you who told me about the letters.”