“I’ll give Kent Olsson at City Mission a call.” Tommy fished his cell phone from his pocket and produced a wrinkled piece of paper bearing the squad leader’s telephone number.
“Hi, this is Tommy Persson again. We haven’t found a trace of the lady here in Nordstan. Have you had better luck?” Tommy’s face lit up as he listened. “Really? That sounds promising. We’ll be there as soon as we can.” He hung up.
“Kent’s found a woman who knows Mama Bird. He told her we’d buy her a half special if she stays until we get there.”
“Finally a lead on the bird lady.”
THEY HAD THE good fortune to find a parking spot on Allmanna Vagen. In spite of the fact that they didn’t have to walk far to the City Mission Cafe, they were soaked through when they crossed the threshold. Kent Olsson was standing right inside the door waiting for them. He was a short, strong man in his early middle age. His reddish hair and impressive beard framed a face with friendly gray-blue eyes. After saying hello, he said, “Mimmi, the woman you are going to meet, now has a tiny apartment of her own nearby. She usually comes here to our cafe every day just to have someone to talk to. Her sister died five years ago, and Mimmi was able to take over the apartment. It’s her way back into society.”
“How old is she?” Irene asked.
“About sixty. But she’s able to take care of her own cooking and cleaning with only a little help from home services. She’s proud of that. But, unfortunately, she’s very lonely. She and her sister were the only two left in her family, and once her sister died, she was all alone. She has us, though.”
“Do many mentally ill people come here?” Tommy asked.
“Yes, we have many. A few here at the cafe, but most when we’re out in our deacon bus.”
As they were talking, they reached a door with the word cafe on it. Kent Olsson held it open for them. The odor of unwashed human bodies was noticeable. There weren’t all that many people around the table, which was surprising, since the weather was so bad.
“Not many people today,” Irene stated.
“No, most of them had to leave already to find a place to sleep for the night,” Kent Olsson answered.
Over by the window sat a small, plump woman. She wore a red headband and a torn jacket that had once been orange. Her smile was toothless and filled with anticipation. She got up from her chair with difficulty and held out a knobby hand. Irene took it warmly and did her best to ignore the strong urine smell the woman gave off.
“Hi. I’m Inspector Irene Huss.”
“Hi. I’m Mimmi.”
Mimmi’s voice was grating and raspy. She cleared her throat a few times and wet her lips with her tongue. It didn’t seem to help, since her tongue seemed just as dry.
“Hi, Mimmi. I’m Inspector Tommy Persson.”
From the corner of her eye, Irene noticed how some of the people closest to them listened as they introduced themselves. Then, one by one, they slunk out the door.
Irene decided to be direct. “Kent said you might know the name of a woman we’re looking for. She calls herself Mama Bi—”
“Peep! Peep! Gunnela has peeps!” Mimmi giggled.
“Her name is Gunnela?”
Mimmi nodded enthusiastically.
“Do you know her last name?”
“Hagg.”
Tommy was taking down everything in his notebook, so Irene continued. “How do you know Gunnela?”
“We lived on the same floor.”
“At the mental hospital called Lillhagen?”
Mimmi nodded again and tried to moisten her dry, cracked lips.
“How many years did you know each other?”
“All of them.”
“You mean all the years you lived there?”
“No, all the years she lived there.”
“How many years was that?”
“Don’t know.”
Mimmi appeared uninterested and tried to keep her shaking left hand still by covering it with her right hand. The result was that both hands began to shake.
“How many years did you live at Lillhagen?”
Without looking away from her vibrating hands, Mimmi answered, “Thirty-two years, five months, and sixteen days.”
“How old are you?”
“Fifty-six.”
Irene quickly did the math in her head. Mimmi must have been around twenty-four when she’d been admitted to the mental hospital. Mimmi looked at Irene again.
“I tried to live outside of Lillhagen, but it didn’t work. Now it’s better with my shot once a month.” She smiled.
“Is that all the medicine you need?”
A single nod was her answer. If the medicine lasted an entire month, it must be one powerful dose. No wonder the woman was constantly shaking.
“How old is Gunnela?”
Mimmi shrugged.
“Is she older than you are?”
“Younger. She’s much younger.”
Irene was surprised. She hadn’t expected that. “Do you know how much younger she is than you?”
Mimmi just shrugged again.
“Did she feed the birds when you were living on the same floor?”
“Every time we went outside, she fed them. She could speak with the birds. So she said.”
“Did you hang around with Gunnela very much?”
“No. She was younger.”
“Do you know where Gunnela went to live?”
The tiny woman appeared surprised. “She lived at Lillhagen, of course.”
“Do you know where she went to live after she left Lillhagen?”
“She lived at Lillhagen.” Mimmi was certain.
It appeared that Gunnela Hagg was still living in the mental institution when Mimmi had moved out. At least now they knew the name of the bird lady; they’d be able to start with Lillhagen’s records.
“Mimmi, did Gunnela have any family?”
Mimmi concentrated but finally shook her head. “No. She never had visits. I had visits.”
Irene reminded herself that they’d promised Mimmi a half special—a grilled hot dog with mashed potatoes on top. They decided to take Mimmi with them and bought her one at the nearest hot-dog stand before she went on her way.
TOMMY CALLED THE station and asked Hannu Rauhala to find out as much as he could at Lillhagen about Gunnela Hagg. Since they’d worked with him before, both Irene and Tommy were well aware that Hannu had phenomenal ways of finding vital information out of thin air. Before Tommy hung up, Hannu let them know that Niklas Alexandersson’s alibi held. He’d checked the three friends as well as employees of the Gomorrah Club. He also let them know that there’d been no progress on Linda Svensson’s disappearance. They’d sent out a missing- persons bulletin covering the entire country now.
Tommy ended the call and stared out the windshield, depressed. The world around them was dissolved into fragments of light broken by cascading rain. Irene started the car resolutely.
“It’s almost five o’clock, and I have to pick up Sammie. My dog-sitter will have a fit if I’m late two days in a row.”
Tommy nodded. “By the way, do you know if there’s a florist nearby?”
