Frida Lindh had been murdered. Now the situation was completely changed, and Knutas wanted to meet with Frida’s women friends in person. Malin Backman was also Frida Lindh’s colleague at work. The conversations that he had in the morning with her other friends had not produced anything new.
Karin Jacobsson was present during the interview. They went into the conference room.
“Please have a seat,” said Knutas.
Malin Backman sat down on the chair across from him. “I’m sorry to be late. My husband has been out of town and didn’t come home until this evening. I didn’t have anyone to leave the children with.”
Knutas made a dismissive gesture. “It’s perfectly all right. We appreciate that you took the time to come here. How did you happen to know Frida Lindh?”
“We worked at the same beauty salon.”
“How long have you known her?”
“Since she started working there. That must be about six months ago, I think. Yes, that’s right, she started right after Christmas. In early January.”
“How well did you know her?”
“Quite well. We saw each other every day at work, and we also used to go out together once in a while.”
“Did you notice anything different about her lately?”
“No, she was just the same as always. Very lively and cheerful.”
“She didn’t talk about anything special that had happened? Any customer who was unpleasant?”
“No, I don’t think so.”
“Do you know whether anyone had been acting strangely toward her or threatening her?”
“No, our customers are usually very nice. We know most of them.”
“But occasionally you have customers come in that you’ve never seen before, don’t you?” asked Jacobsson.
“Well, yes, of course. We get walk-ins, too. Every Saturday.”
“Do you remember any of the customers from last Saturday?”
“No, I had the day off.”
“Who was working that day?”
“Frida and the woman who owns the salon, Britt. There are only two of us on Saturdays.”
“How long are you open?”
“Until three o’clock. On Saturdays, that is. Otherwise we close at six. And we’re not open on Sundays.”
“I want you to be very candid with me. Do you know whether Frida was having an affair on the side? Was she going out with anyone?”
“No, she wasn’t. She would have told me if she was. I don’t think she would ever go that far.”
“How was Frida at work?”
“She was a really good hairdresser, and the customers liked her a lot. She had a very winning way about her. She was cheerful and sociable.”
“Do you think any of the customers might have felt she was encouraging them?”
“I don’t know. Of course she talked and laughed a lot. I guess that could be misinterpreted.”
“Could you describe the evening at the Monk’s Cellar?”
“We had dinner in the restaurant. Then we went into the vinyl bar. It was full of people, and we were having a great time. Frida met a man, and she sat and talked to him for a really long time.”
“Did he introduce himself to the rest of you?”
“No, they were sitting at the bar the whole time.”
“What did he look like?”
“Ash-blond hair. Tall. He looked quite fit. A slight stubble. Very dark eyes, I think.”
“What was he wearing?”
“He had on a polo shirt and jeans. Really nice-looking clothes.”
“How long did they talk to each other?”
“For about an hour. Then Frida came back to the table and said that he had to leave.”
“Did she tell you anything about him?”
“He was from Stockholm. He and his father were going to buy a restaurant in Visby. Apparently they owned several cafes in Stockholm.”
“Did she say what his name was?”
“Yes, his name was Henrik.”
“No last name?”
“No.”
“Where was he staying here on Gotland?”
“I don’t know.”
“How long was he going to stay?”
“I don’t know that, either.”
“Did he seem to know anyone at the Monk?”
“I don’t think so. I didn’t see him talking to anyone besides Frida.”
“You didn’t recognize him?”
“No.”
“What else did Frida say about him?”
“She thought he was sweet. He asked for her phone number, but she didn’t give it to him.”
“When did he leave the Monk?”
“He left right after she came back to our table. We probably stayed another half hour after that. Until they closed.”
“Did you notice when he left?”
“No, Frida said that he had to go.”
“How was Frida when you said goodbye to her?”
“The same as always. We said goodbye, and she headed off toward home on her bicycle.”
“Was she drunk?”
“Not especially. We were all a little tipsy.”
Jacobsson chose to change tracks. “How did Frida get along with her husband?”
“Great, I think. At least I never heard about any big problems. No relationship is perfect, you know. The children kept them really busy, of course.”
“Just one more question. Do you have any idea who might have wished to hurt her?”
“No. I don’t have a clue.”
MONDAY, JUNE 18
The second homicide was a juicy story for the tabloids. The fact that the panties of both victims had been stuffed in their mouths made the crimes even more sensational, of course. After the Sunday evening news had reported on the new information, all the other media picked up the story. Naturally, speculations about a serial killer were rampant. They were splashed in big headlines across the front pages of the newspapers on Monday morning. Frida
Lindh’s face was all over the tabloids, which screamed: SERIAL KILLER RAVAGING GOTLAND. KILLER LOOSE IN VACATION PARADISE. MURDER IN SUMMER HAVEN.
On the TV news programs, the murders were the top story. The decision to publish the information about the panties had been made after a discussion among the news managers at TV headquarters. Everyone had agreed that publicizing that particular detail was the right thing to do. If they weighed the unpleasantness for the families against the public interest, the scales tipped in favor of the people’s right to know. The early morning talk shows featured discussions with criminologists, psychologists, and representatives from various women’s groups.
The radio fanned the flames by repeating the details in one news program after another.
