Charlotte, Henrik isn’t coming home until around ten o’clock-tomorrow night, that is.”
Tommy sat sipping at his hot coffee. Pensively he said, “Do you think that staking out Henrik will produce anything? He comes home, tired and exhausted from his auction deals. He probably sits down and polishes some priceless trinket. And then he goes to bed. That’s what I think.”
Irene tried to persuade him. “But these are concrete leads in the investigation that we’re following now! We aren’t even sure that Shorty has a direct connection to the case. I propose that we take this up with the superintendent. What do you think about the neighbor’s story? Did Charlotte and Richard have a sexual relationship?”
All three thought about it.
“It seems likely.”
“There’s a lot to indicate it. Especially the times he stayed overnight.”
“At the start of this investigation I would have dismissed such testimony as utterly improbable. But considering what we’ve learned of Richard’s and Charlotte’s personalities over the course of the investigation, I would say that it’s not at all inconceivable!” said Irene.
Fredrik again began showing signs of some excitement, so Irene leaned over and moved the bowl of sauce. Eagerness glinted in his eyes, and he leaned over the table to persuade them.
“That gives Henrik a motive. Jealousy! His own father is fucking his wife! That’s a damned strong motive!”
Something started to stir in the back of Irene’s mind and she managed to pry it loose. “I’m not sure that Henrik is capable of great jealousy. Or any emotions at all. He’s hardly passionate about anything but his relationship to his antiques. But there’s actually another very strong motive. The most ordinary of all-namely money.”
Tommy looked surprised and asked, “But isn’t it Sylvia who is her husband’s heir?”
“Yes. Except for an insurance policy. Sylvia told me about it herself. She and Henrik get half a million each over a period of ten years, in the event of Richard’s death.”
Fredrik gave a low whistle. After thinking a while he said, “From what I understand from you, Henrik and Richard von Knecht didn’t like each other much, right?”
“They weren’t exactly enemies. But according to Sylvia, Richard could never accept that Henrik’s personality changed after his meningitis.”
Irene looked at the clock. It was past four-thirty. Resolutely she said, “We have to call and see if Andersson is still at HQ. We’ll have to go there and present what we learned today. Then he has to decide the next plan of attack.”
They paid and got up to leave.
//
IRENE DROVE, with Fredrik sitting next to her and Tommy in the backseat. After they managed to escape the rush-hour traffic on Sodra Vagen, Fredrik leaned forward and turned on the radio. The Sven-Ingvar hit about “The Only Blonde in Town” filled the car. Loud and off-key, they all joined in on the chorus. They giggled when the music faded out. A pleasant male voice rapidly announced, “And that’s all for
Out of sheer reflex Irene stomped on the brakes, and almost got a taxi in her rear bumper.
Her male colleagues yelled simultaneously, “What are you doing?” “Watch out for the cab!”
Demonstrating discipline, she put on the blinker and turned down Burgardsgatan. The gods must have accepted some offering she had made, because she lucked out and found an empty parking space. She turned off the engine and turned up the volume of the radio, staring as if entranced by the tiny glowing red and green lights on the car radio that showed it was on. Fascinated she whispered, “Listen, you guys, listen!”
“. . no serious incidents in yesterday’s demonstrations in conjunction with the anniversary of Karl the Twelfth’s death. The police. .”
Fredrik looked angry, mostly because of shock. “What was that all about? You could have caused an accident! Then they can say on the
Tommy started to laugh, but Irene just waved her hand and didn’t take her eyes off the radio. Dramatically she said, “Didn’t you hear the sound of something cracking?”
Fredrik and Tommy exchanged a glance, filled with male bonding. Fredrik’s circling index finger next to his temple was enough. Irene saw it and started laughing too.
“What just cracked was Charlotte’s alibi. There isn’t any five o’clock news on the radio! It’s called
The two colleagues realized what she was getting at. That would give Charlotte an extra fifteen minutes, which would be plenty of time to reach Molinsgatan from Molndalsvagen.
Tommy was the one who recovered first. “Is there really no five o’clock news?”
“No, not on the big radio stations. And since Charlotte’s Golf was brand new when she left the Volkswagen dealership on Tuesday afternoon, I doubt she had managed to set the button for any small local station that broadcast news.”
Tommy leaned forward between the front seats and said, “I think you’re right, Irene. We have to start keeping an eye on Henrik and Charlotte. But it’s clear that they have already done what they intended. Now they just have to lie low. If only we could get hold of a single piece of evidence that would hold up! Somebody who saw Charlotte on Molinsgatan on the night of the murder. A witness who saw Henrik load his gasoline cans in and out of the Porsche. But no! They were God damned lucky! All we have are circumstantial evidence and guesses!”
Irene agreed and started the car again. She took great pains to be an exemplary driver. It wasn’t good to subject her colleagues’ nerves to any more stress than necessary.
SUPERINTENDENT SVEN Andersson blew his nose on a piece of toilet paper. He had a headache, and his eyes and nose were running. He was considering going straight home to make himself a hot cognac toddy and crawl into bed, when the three inspectors called and reported red-hot new information in the von Knecht case. Quietly snuffling, he listened to their accounts of the day’s testimony and new leads.
He sat silent a long time and thought about what he had heard. Finally he said, “Well, I’ll be damned. Charlotte and Richard von Knecht! That’s a reasonable conclusion to draw after that neighbor’s testimony. But we have to have proof! It’s not such a good idea to watch Henrik or Charlotte. What they’re doing now isn’t as interesting as the deviltry they’ve already committed. We have to find more proof, and preferably the type that’s binding. Could they have planned to murder Richard von Knecht together?”
Tommy shook his head and said, “We discussed that, but we don’t think that’s how it happened. There’s plenty to indicate that the bombing was planned and carried out by one person and the actual murder by another. If Charlotte knew that Henrik had placed a bomb on Berzeliigatan, she wouldn’t have had to take any risks by murdering her father-in-law herself! All she had to do was wait for Richard to walk through the door of his office one last time.”
Andersson gave him a red-eyed look, wiped his copper-colored nose, and said thoughtfully, “You think that Charlotte is mixed up in the murder?”
Tommy nodded and motioned to Irene.
“We have no plausible motive for her, but Charlotte is the only one who doesn’t have a really good alibi. Not anymore, since Irene figured out the part about
The keys. Again Irene’s subconscious stirred. But nothing came to the surface. Annoyed, she had to try to concentrate on what the superintendent was telling them.
“Hannu talked to Pirjo’s children again today. And one of the little boys suddenly remembered that a man had called and asked for Pirjo on Wednesday morning. But Pirjo had just left to go clean the von Knechts’ apartment. The boy told this to the man on the phone. The daughter didn’t know anything about this call, because she was at school. It was a stroke of luck that Hannu thought of questioning the boys one more time.”
