expensively lifted?
“Why did you need these old drawings anyway?” Irene asked.
Without speaking, Carina lifted another roll of paper and spread it over the older drawing. She had chalked the hospital’s outer contours and drawn in the additional stairway and elevator. She’d marked all the load-bearing walls correctly. There the resemblances to the old Lowander Hospital came to an end. Where the present operating rooms existed, “Massage and Relaxation Room” was marked. The on-call apartment and two offices were marked “Employees.” The third office and the attic were “Storage.”
The care wards had been changed to one large gymnasium, or “Aerobics Room” as Carina had written on her drawing. The ICU and one of the care wards had become “Weight Training.” The first floor had “Reception,” “Cafeteria,” “Mani-Pedi,” and “Hair Salon.”
The basement was similar to the present configuration. There was an employee changing room, a furnace room, a power room, and the usual basement storage, but where the security guard’s room had been was now marked “Changing Room—men” with showers, hot tub, and a sauna. A similar space was set up on the other side of the basement for women.
Tommy lifted his gaze from the drawing and looked at Irene. Then he asked, “When did you take these drawings from Hilding’s suitcase?”
Her brow wrinkled as she thought back. “It must have been sometime between Christmas and New Year’s Eve. I had my vacation until St. Knut’s Day on January thirteenth.”
“How did you know where the drawings were?”
Carina shrugged impatiently. “I didn’t. It was a wild guess that turned out to be right.” She walked over to her desk chair and sat down. Before she started to talk, she fixed her gaze on one of the bodybuilder posters showing a woman glistening with oil. “Here’s what happened. All this fall Sverker complained that he couldn’t see a way to keep the hospital profitable. It needed too much money to maintain as a hospital. He would have had to fix the roof, the pipes, and who knows what else. He wanted to sell the building. Then I got the idea of converting it into a fitness center. A calm, rural atmosphere in the middle of the city. Perfect for stress-filled city folks who don’t have time to get away to a spa for a few days to relax. I believe in my concept. It’s modern. More and more people are realizing the importance of taking care of their bodies. If people took care of themselves, there wouldn’t be a need for so many hospitals.”
“What did Sverker think about it?”
Carina didn’t answer for a second. Then she replied, “He hasn’t made up his mind yet, but I believe he was coming around.”
“Tell us why you had to break into the suitcases,” Irene said.
“I’d been thinking about my concept all through December, and on Christmas Eve I told Sverker about my thoughts regarding the future of the Lowander Hospital building. I asked him if he had any of the original drawings, but he said he didn’t. He said that they’d probably burned up in the house fire. Then he thought that they might be somewhere in the hospital. He loaned me his key, and I was able to search the hospital in peace, since it was closed for Christmas and New Year’s.”
“So when were you at the hospital searching for the drawings and when did you find the suitcases?” Irene asked.
“I went over there for the first time the day after Christmas, and I found the suitcases on the following day. There weren’t any keys for them, so I had to break them open.”
“How did you break open the locks?”
“With a screwdriver.”
“Where did you get it?”
“I had it with me.”
“From home?”
“No, I have a tool chest in the car.”
“Did you see a nurse’s uniform in any of the suitcases?”
Carina thought for a long time before answering. “There were a great deal of old clothes in the largest suitcase. Maybe a nurse’s uniform was among them. I don’t know. That’s not what I was after.”
“You were after the drawings. And you found them.”
“That’s right.”
“What did you do with the suitcases once you’d found the drawings?”
Carina looked surprised. “Nothing. I left them right where I found them. The locks were broken, though, of course.”
“You didn’t wipe down the suitcases or the locks after you were finished?”
“No, why would I do that? I wasn’t doing anything wrong. The suitcases belonged to my husband’s family.”
She had a point. If she hadn’t wiped down the suitcases, someone else must have done so. Probably the murderer when he removed the nurse’s uniform for his masquerade.
He? Why were they always calling the murderer a he? Irene thought about Superintendent Andersson’s earlier comment, that strangulation was not a “female” method. The killer could be female. Irene took a close look at Carina and her glistening muscles. Yes, indeed, Carina was certainly strong enough to strangle someone. All the victims had been small women. Yet Carina had no motive. She had plans for her future, and it looked as if everything was going her way. She’d have no reason to kill Marianne Svard, Gunnela Hagg, or Linda Svensson. She had all the reason in the world not to have Lowander Hospital connected to murder and scandal if she planned to open an exclusive fitness center there.
“I believe that we have enough for today. Where can we find your husband?”
“He gave me a phone call a moment ago. He’s playing squash with Konrad Hendriksson at Landala Sporthall. They’ve had a standing appointment there for years.”
“When will he be home?”
Carina appeared apologetic. “Probably not before nine this evening. They usually go to the sauna and then have a beer together afterward. Sverker needs to get back into his daily routine. This has been an extremely difficult time for him.”
“Would you tell him that we’re going to show up at the hospital at eight A.M. tomorrow? If he prefers that we come here instead, he can call Tommy or me before seven-thirty.”
She handed her card to Carina, who set it down without looking at it. She graciously stood up and led them back through the home gym and up the stairs to the hallway.
As Carina was shutting the door behind them, Irene heard her yell toward the interior of the house. “Emma! Won’t you come downstairs and exercise with me? You really need it!”
As an answer, Irene heard the volume on the Backstreet Boys CD crank up.
“IF YOU THINK Sverker Lowander looks like Pierce Brosnan, I have to tell you that Carina looks like Sharon Stone,” Irene said.
Tommy nodded. “Not a bad comparison, actually. Poor little Emma. She doesn’t look like either of her parents.”
“With those eyes she’ll be just fine,” Irene said.
Tommy just smiled.
AT HOME IRENE smelled freshly baked bread, and she drew the wonderful aroma into her nostrils. Sammie came thundering toward her and tried to convince her that he’d been all on his lonesome for hours, but his wet paws betrayed him.
“You’ll have to wait until after dinner,” Irene said as she burrowed the cold tip of her nose into Sammie’s warm fur.
With high expectations, she went into the kitchen.
Jenny was bustling around with the flush of the hot kitchen on her cheeks. She had baking sheets filled with dinner rolls.
“Hi. I’m making graham rolls,” she said happily.
Krister was at the stove, stirring a pot. There were no cutlets or freshly rolled meatballs anywhere Irene could see. With trepidation she went over to her husband and kissed him on the neck before she asked, “What’s for dinner?”
