refused because it’s so messy. I couldn’t even change a light bulb because I never knew where to find one.’
She sighed and looked around in resignation. They were standing close together in the only empty patch left on the floor. The walls were lined with shelves filled with all kinds of gadgets, and in the far corner was a table piled high with boxes.
‘Over here,’ she mumbled, leading Knutas along the narrow passage-way that she had apparently cleared in order to reach the very back of the storage room. There he saw a door, which was unlocked.
‘It leads to the furnace room. It’s connected to the laundry room, and there’s a door from the inside too. But we put a dryer in front of it, so now this is the only way to get in.’
Knutas followed as they entered a smaller room. Here everything was very orderly. Cardboard boxes were neatly stacked along the walls. On one side stood a kitchen table, old-fashioned but nice-looking. Monika Wallin moved aside a piece of chipboard and lifted up a tarpaulin. Knutas’s curiosity grew. He leaned forward eagerly to see what was underneath.
She pulled out a small box, placed it on the table and moved the tissue paper inside.
‘Look,’ she said. ‘I have no idea where it came from.’ Knutas looked down at the contents of the box.
There was a painting inside, no bigger than a sheet of A4 paper. The scene showed part of the Royal Palace in Stockholm, and Riddarholm Church was visible in the background. Otherwise the painting was dominated by the waters of Stockholm’s rapids. Judging by the golden colour reflected in the palace windows, it was the light of the setting sun that the artist had captured. Knutas was no art connoisseur, but even he could tell that this was a fine painting. He didn’t see any signature.
‘Who painted this?’
‘I’m not sure. I’m not really an art expert. I mostly took care of the administrative side of the business, but if I were to make an educated guess, I’d say it’s a Zorn.’
‘Anders Zorn?’ exclaimed Knutas with astonishment. ‘Then it must be worth a lot.’
‘If it’s a real Zorn, yes. But there are more.’
The next painting was a little bigger and had a beautiful gold frame. The motif was so recognizable that Knutas immediately knew who the artist was. Two plump, naked women, their skin white but their cheeks flushed red, on a shore that was undoubtedly Lake Siljan.
‘Now this one has to be a Zorn, right?’ he said excitedly. He looked for a signature and found it in the lower right corner of the painting.
He couldn’t believe his eyes. Here he stood in this little storage room in Visby, looking at work by one of Sweden’s most famous artists of all time. It was crazy.
Monika Wallin had more paintings to show him. There was one with a horse motif by Nils Kreuger, one with several sparrows in the snow by Bruno Liljefors, and another of two boys looking at an apple tree with a villa in the background. It was signed ‘C.L.’ — Carl Larsson.
Knutas had to sit down on a stool in the cramped space.
‘You had no idea that these paintings were here?’
‘Of course not. We’ve never had them in the gallery, we didn’t buy them, and there’s no documentation anywhere.’
‘They all appear to be by famous artists. What do you think they’re worth?’
‘A fortune,’ she said with a sigh. ‘Altogether we’re probably looking at millions of kronor.’
‘Have you looked through any of the other boxes in here?’
‘No. I can’t handle it any more. You’ll have to take over.’
‘We’ll need to do a search of your house. You realize that, don’t you?’
She nodded and threw out her hands in a gesture of surrender.
While they waited for reinforcements from police headquarters, Monika Wallin served Knutas coffee. That was when Knutas decided to take up the delicate issue. He chose to get right to the point.
‘Why didn’t you tell me when I was here before that you’re having an affair with Rolf Sanden?’
Apparently Monika Wallin had been expecting the question. Her expression didn’t change. ‘I thought it was of no interest to the case whatsoever.’
‘Everything to do with you and your husband is relevant to the case. Did Egon know about it?’
She sighed heavily. ‘No, he didn’t. He didn’t notice a thing. He stopped paying any attention to me long ago.’
‘How can you be so sure?’
‘Rolf and I had it all arranged so well. We met in the daytime, when Egon was at the gallery. I do a lot of my work at home. Usually I go to the gallery only on Mondays.’
‘Evidently your neighbours were aware of what was going on.’
‘I suppose that’s unavoidable in this neighbourhood. Not that I care. We don’t socialize with anyone from around here.’
‘Except you and Rolf?’
‘Yes, except for us.’
30
The paintings found in the Wallin storage room were confiscated by the police and sent by the next plane to Bukowski’s Auction House in Stockholm. There they would be identified and valued. Erik Mattson received them on Tuesday afternoon.
It took him less than an hour to identify them and confirm that they were genuine. All were originals. The larger Zorn painting with the Dalecarlian women on the shore of Lake Siljan was valued at between three and four million kronor. The others were worth several hundred thousand each. He calculated the total value to be between four and five million kronor. The works were registered, and after he looked them up in the databases, it turned out that they had all been stolen.
Both Zorn paintings were stolen three years earlier from a collector in Goteborg. The Carl Larsson painting had been taken from an exhibition in Falun the previous year, and the painting by Bruno Liljefors had disappeared during a move from an estate on Gotland just a few months earlier.
When he was finished with his appraisal, Mattson immediately rang Knutas.
‘Bugger!’ exclaimed the superintendent. ‘Every one of them stolen? Are you sure?’
‘Definitely. You can look them up yourself in your files.’
‘And you’re sure that they’re genuine?’ ‘Without a doubt.’
‘Thank you for your time.’
Knutas put down the phone and then punched in the direct number for the team at the NCP. He asked them to look into the facts of the thefts — how they had been carried out, and whether there were any suspects.
He stared out of the window, but his thoughts were elsewhere.
So Egon Wallin had been involved in the theft of paintings on a national scale, or had at least acted as a fence, which was just as serious. Knutas was shocked. Was he such a poor judge of character? He had always regarded Egon as such a law-abiding man. What else didn’t he know about him?
The search of the Wallin home was going to be conducted later in the day. The gallery would also be searched. Knutas was looking forward to hearing the results.
31
The fact that the Wallin home was cordoned off and searched by the police did not go unnoticed by the media. The neighbours had seen the paintings being carried out of the storage room, and a rumour that they’d been stolen instantly began circulating.
‘I had a hunch about this whole thing,’ said Pia eagerly as they drove towards Snackgardsvagen. ‘I knew there was something fishy about Egon
