in the desert. What if her trip to London was unsuccessful? Maybe Rebecka really didn’t have the faintest idea about the motive for the murders or who the perpetrator might be. She hadn’t lived in Sweden the last couple of years. She hadn’t had close contact with her family. They hadn’t found any letters or postcards from Rebecka to either her parents or her brother.
Then a thought struck her: computers. They had each had access to a computer. Maybe they kept in touch through them. Sent E-mail or chatted. . But they would never be able to prove it, since the hard drives had been destroyed.
But maybe something had been saved on removable disks? Irene stopped herself. They hadn’t found a single removable disk, whether floppy diskette, Zip disk, CD/R, or any other kind, either at Sten’s or at Jacob’s. The investigators had assumed that they had stored everything only on the hard drives. But what if they hadn’t? What if the murderer had taken the removable disks with him? How do you utterly destroy such a disk? She suspected that the answer was probably different for each kind. She made a mental note to herself to find out first thing the next morning.
RIGHT AFTER morning prayers on Wednesday, the telephone in Irene’s office rang. She threw herself through the door and hurdled over the desk in order to catch it in time.
“Inspector Huss.” She could hear that someone was breathing heavily on the other end of the phone but trying to calm down.
“Hello? Who’s calling?” Irene asked.
She could hear the person at the other end clear his throat nervously. “Yes. . I don’t know if I really should, but this is Assistant Pastor Urban Berg in Backared.”
“Good morning.”
“Good morning. I was wondering. . it happens that I’ve found out about something which may have nothing to do with the murders, but one never knows. . ”
“Do you want me to come and see you so that we can talk, or is it okay to do it via telephone?”
“No, . I’m coming into the city today anyway. . Can we meet this afternoon? I would prefer if no one finds out that I’ve spoken with you.”
“What time works best for you?”
“After two o’clock. Does that suit you?”
“Of course. Just announce yourself at the reception desk and they’ll call me. I’ll come down and meet you.”
“Thank you.” Relief could be heard in his voice.
What had Urban Berg found out that he couldn’t tell her over the phone? Maybe this was the first crack in the case they had all been hoping for? But that was probably wishful thinking, she told herself.
IRENE DEVOTED the entire morning to administrative cleanup. She was very pleased with her efforts when she looked out over her bare desktop before she went to lunch just before one o’clock. The Insurance Office’s cafeteria was offering an acceptable chicken stew.
She looked for Tommy both in the station and in the cafeteria, but she didn’t see him anywhere. The Speedy investigation was probably moving along, which was more than could be said for the one she was participating in. Since she hadn’t spoken with Urban Berg during the questioning a week earlier, it would have been good to learn Tommy’s impression of the pastor before she met him herself. The only thing she remembered was that Urban Berg had said that Bengt Maardh was a womanizer. It may have been true: Bengt was a stylish man and had a pleasant manner about him. Maybe his manner was a little too pleasant.
Irene remembered that she had viewed Urban Berg as reserved during the brief glimpse she had gotten of him in the Fellowship Hall. And, according to Bengt Maardh, he had problems with the bottle.
What was it Tommy had called both of the pastors? Now she remembered: “petty gossiping pigs.” They had tattled on each other. Probably because they were competing for the position of Schyttelius’s replacement as rector. Bengt Maardh had also happened to reveal Jonas Burman’s possible homosexuality and that he saw himself as being extra religious and orthodox.
It was with a certain degree of anticipation that she took the elevator down to pick up Urban Berg. The receptionist announced him at two o’clock on the dot.
He stood glued to the wall of the waiting room right next to the bookshelf. The room didn’t offer many hiding places, but the pastor had found the one that existed. With a stiff facial expression, he focused on three dark- skinned men who were sitting on the visitor’s couch. He seemed to be slightly cross-eyed, since at the same time he was keeping an eye on a suspicious man who was sitting in an armchair and reading that day’s edition of
“I’VE BEEN going back and forth about what I should do. . but I’ve decided to tell,” said Urban Berg.
He sat erect in Irene’s visitor’s chair and declined her offer of coffee. Irene left him for a moment while she retrieved a cup for herself. Based on what she could see when she came back, he hadn’t moved an inch.
Now he looked Irene in the eye and repeated, “I’ve decided to tell.”
He stopped himself. Irene drank her coffee and waited for him to begin.
“It was the Friday before the murders. Sten came over to my home in the afternoon, and we sat and talked. We had a very pleasant time and ate a little bit of food. Very pleasant. He said-”
There the assistant rector stopped and looked to the side. Irene got the feeling that he was terribly troubled. She wondered if she should ask how much they had had to drink, but decided that it was irrelevant. With the knowledge of both men’s drinking habits, it had probably been a good deal. Berg cleared his throat and commenced again. “He said that he suspected that Louise Maardh had embezzled money from the church association.”
Irene was very surprised. Could Louise possibly have embezzled church funds? The beautiful, elegant. . then Irene stopped herself and remembered the stunning pearl necklace and the exquisitely cut dress she had worn the week before. Irene had to admit that her impression of Louise also included the word “expensive.”
“Did he have any proof of his suspicions?”
Troubled, Urban Berg squirmed before he answered. “I. . we talked about how Bengt and Louise bought a new car again. It hasn’t been more than three years since they bought a Volvo. Brand-spanking-new. Now they’ve purchased a BMW!” At the last piece of information, he opened his eyes wide, meaningfully. Apparently he viewed the BMW as clear proof of Mr. and Mrs. Maardh’s deceit. At first he looked disappointed when Irene didn’t comment on the information, but after a short while his determination returned.
“Last winter they traveled to the Maldives, and last summer they were in Italy, and this summer they’re traveling to Greece. Their sons study at the university without taking out any student loans, and they each have an apartment. And then, they’ve bought a bigger boat which is docked at Bjorlanda Kile. Stuff like that costs money!”
He couldn’t conceal the triumph in his voice. Irene tried to choose her words carefully. “Did Sten Schyttelius suspect his accountant of embezzlement simply because of all of these expenses?”
A blush shot up from the pastor’s throat and spread unflatteringly over his pale cheeks. “He. . he thought, as I do, that it’s very strange that they can afford all these things. Pastors in the Swedish Church are not well paid.”
“But he didn’t have any proof to base his suspicions on,” Irene asserted.
“Maybe not directly. But this has been discussed in the association for the last few years. According to Sten, we aren’t the only ones who have been curious.”
Irene watched the man sitting upright in her visitor’s chair. She was inclined to agree with Tommy; Urban Berg was a gossip-monger. Yet experience told her that a grain of truth can often be found in a rumor. Maybe it was worth pursuing. But someone else would have to do it; she was going to London.
“I’VE SCOUTED the woods around Norssjon and the rectory in Kullahult. It isn’t all that difficult to make your way through.”
Fredrik had taped together the two map pages that the superintendent had torn out when he introduced the
