true,” Irene replied.
They entered the office. The desk was bare. The computer had been removed, leaving its outline in the dust on the desktop. The doors to the gun cabinet were wide open, and Irene could see that while it was now empty, there was room for six rifles.
“Was the cabinet full?” she asked.
“I don’t know. We’ll have to ask Svante,” said Tommy, and he left the room.
There were some books and bibles and piles of papers called “Our Church” and “News from Kullahult’s Church Association,” paper, stamps, a hole punch and other office materials on shelves, and a box marked “Sweden’s Ecumenical Children’s Villages.” Irene started flipping through the papers but was interrupted by Tommy’s return.
“They found five rifles and a lot of ammunition in the cabinet and took everything to the lab. The cabinet originally held six rifles, including the murder weapon. The interesting thing is that the cabinet was unlocked when the technicians found it and the key was in the lock. Just like the front door,” he said.
“Weren’t the guns broken down?” Irene asked.
“No. It’s not necessary if weapons are stored in an approved gun cabinet, and this one was, aside from the fact that it was left unlocked.”
“The murderer seems to have known where all of the keys were,” Irene thought out loud.
“Or the Schyttelius family kept their keys in places that were too obvious. Remember the key under the plant at the summer cottage,” Tommy reminded her.
Irene nodded and continued to flip through the contents of the box that contained informational brochures about the different villages. The children were orphans and received room and board and schooling at the villages, as well as a hefty dose of old-time Swedish religious education, Irene thought, examining a picture of a group of dark-skinned children with bowed heads and folded hands in front of an altar. The young, blond pastor stood with one hand held in a gesture of blessing. His gaze was directed at a point above the children’s heads. The text under the picture read: “The children are inquisitive and gratefully accept God’s word.”
The buildings were described as simple but well cared for. The children received food, healthcare, and access to education at the cost of various associations. All the workers were volunteers.
Irene considered. Both father and son had become involved in this worthy work. Why had these nice idealistic men been brutally murdered? Not to mention the timid wife and mother who seemed to have been incapable of hurting anyone?
“We’re done in the bedroom,” Svante shouted through the door to the billiard room.
Irene replaced the contents of the box and put it back on the shelf. Before she left the room, she turned on the threshold to view it. It had been used a great deal but was impersonal, aside from the stuffed birds on the walls. No paintings, no photographs or anything else decorated the walls. Even the bedroom was relatively impersonal, almost Spartan, she noted. It was a big airy room, dominated by a double bed with a nightstand on each side of it. There were only two straight-backed wooden chairs in the room, a small dresser, and a worn rag rug in light blue and beige on the floor. There were no paintings or pictures on the walls here either.
All the bedclothes, including the mattress, had been taken from the bed, but large bloodstains were still visible on the light-colored wallpaper above the headboard. The crucifix was still hanging upside-down between the two windows. The cross was made of some black wood; the Christ figure was silver. With outspread arms and a hanging head, Jesus looked more helpless than usual.
As if he had read her thoughts, Tommy said, “My impulse is to put it back, right side up.”
Irene nodded but let the crucifix stay as it was. “The Satanists want to scare us by stealing the symbol of the Christian church.”
“I don’t think that’s the whole truth. They have their own symbols. Where in the Christian church are pentagrams used? Symbols have exactly the power and the strength we give them. The image of the crucified Jesus, the strongest symbol for Christians, naturally has the greatest power. A Hindu who saw an upside-down cross probably wouldn’t even react.”
Uncertainly, Irene said, “But I’m not particularly religious. I almost never go to church. The twins didn’t want to be confirmed, so they weren’t. But you’re right. I react with. . discomfort.”
“Exactly. And then you realize why the Satanists use religious signs turned the wrong way around in their rituals. Their aim must be to make the Christian rituals and symbols look ridiculous. To dare to disgrace and mock the most sacred symbol is to tell us ‘We don’t give a damn about the Establishment,’ in this case the Church. But they also steal the power of the symbols they mock.”
When Irene looked at the cross, an involuntary shiver ran through her.
Chapter 6
SUPERINTENDENT ANDERSSON SEEMED TIRED during the evening meeting. Irene became concerned when she saw bags under his eyes and wrinkles that seemed to have deepened in just a few hours. He was, after all, getting close to retirement age. Maybe it wasn’t strange that he looked exhausted.
“The press has been hounding me! I can’t set foot outside the station, and I’ve told the operators not to put through any phone calls from the media. We still haven’t any information about the pentagrams and that Satanic crap, and I don’t know how long it will be before we do.” He drank some warm coffee from a mug that bore the inscription “I’m the boss.” He had gotten it as a Christmas present the year before, and he was childishly fond of it. He continued, “I’ve spoken with Georg again.”
At first, Irene didn’t remember who Georg was. Then she recalled that the superintendent’s cousin was Georg Andersson, and he had been Jacob Schyttelius’s boss.
“According to Georg, Jacob Schyttelius was a good teacher and well-liked. He taught computers and physical education and … what else was it?”
Andersson started rummaging through the pile of papers in front of him and finally found a wrinkled notepad. His tired features brightened as he flipped through it. “Here! Computers, P.E., and
He stopped and looked down at the notebook again.
“He started as a substitute at the end of the fall semester and was given a full-time position for the spring. All his reports were good, and Georg said that he was very pleased with Jacob. The school is a charter school with an ecumenical profile, so Jacob’s background was an added bonus. And Georg has known his parents for many years.”
Fredrik asked, “What does ‘ecumenical profile’ mean?”
“Oh. . I asked as well. It takes students from all Christian denominations. Georg said that, for example, there are Christian Syrians, and Russians who are Pentecostal.”
Now Irene asked permission to speak. “The reason you and I went out to Norssjon on Tuesday was because your cousin had called and was worried about Jacob: He hadn’t shown up at work during the day and didn’t answer the telephone. But I remember you mentioned that the principal had said that Jacob might be depressed. Why did he think that?”
“Jacob was on sick leave during the fall for depression. It was probably due to his divorce,” Andersson replied.
A divorce might well result in depression, especially with Jacob’s genetic predisposition.
“But more than six months had passed, and he had started working again. Why should his depression return?” Irene persisted.
The superintendent’s color rose and irritation could be heard in his voice. “I’m no headshrinker, but can’t depression return without any particular reason?”
Irene nodded; maybe he was right.
The superintendent stared grimly down at his notebook. “Our pathology professor called me a little while ago. Jacob Schyttelius was first shot in the chest near the heart, with a round fired from a distance of a few meters. The second shot went straight through his brain, and was fired at very close range when he was lying on the floor. The
