The Torso

frames lined up in the closetlike space. He started flipping systematically. Occasionally, he stopped with a soft triumphant shout and pulled out a picture, which he leaned against the wall. When he had finished rummaging and selected six of them, he seemed satisfied.

“These, plus five more, which are hanging on the wall behind you, were part of the exhibit,” he said.

Irene heard the pride in his voice, and in her estimation it was justified.

All of the pictures were very sensual. The picture of Marcus was somewhat different from the one Tom had on his wall. Here he sat leaning forward more, with his arms freely resting on his knees. His left hand loosely held his right wrist, and his right hand obscured most of his genitals. He was smiling a confident, sexy smile and looked right into the camera with eyes glittering mischievously. The wind was tousling his damp hair, and the sun glittered in the sea spray on his body. A perfect body, thought Irene. The body of a Greek god. Which Emil and his partner had turned into a torso.

One of the pictures represented a young woman sitting on a chair with two small children. The smallest child appeared to be almost a newborn and slumbered, leaning against her chest. The older child stood with his head leaning against her knee and looked directly into the camera. At the most, he was two years old. All three were naked. The woman was a stunning beauty with Asian features. Her long black hair billowed around her and the children. Without doubt she could sit on her hair. The whole picture breathed love and warmth.

“My family,” Erik said with pride in his voice.

Irene’s chin dropped. She had thought that Bolin was gay. But now, if the woman and the children were his family-! She asked, “Is that really your wife and children?”

“Yes.”

“Does she know about. . you and Marcus?”

Erik Bolin suddenly looked serious.

“She knew that I was bisexual when we got married. With Marcus it was a short-lived passion. Though he and I kept in touch afterward.”

Irene would have loved to have continued to dig into their relationship but she suspected that his answers wouldn’t be completely truthful. Instead, she concentrated on the picture of the backlit man. It was the same photo that had hung on Tom’s wall.

“Did you take several pictures of this man?” Irene asked.

“Yes. But there wasn’t much time. This was the best picture. It’s the kind of picture you dream about being able to time just right. With the sun rays spreading out from his glans. Wonderfully sexy! I named it Penis Power but the gallery didn’t think it could be called that, so it was changed to Manpower.”

“Tell me about the meeting with Basta.”

Bolin seemed to be searching his memory before he spoke. “Marcus’s cell phone rang. He answered and seemed really happy when he understood that Basta wanted to get together. Marcus explained where we were. It was easy to find us because there was an old lighthouse right next to where we were hanging out. After about an hour, I saw a jeep approaching on the beach. It turned out to be Basta.”

“Weren’t there a lot of curious people standing around and watching what you were shooting? Marcus was naked after all.”

“We were working a bit toward the north where there aren’t all that many people. And it was quite late in the afternoon. I started taking the first pictures of Marcus around five o’clock.”

“And Basta came later?”

“Yes, around seven. I finished the last roll of Marcus, and when that was done he suggested that I should photograph Basta. He was a good-looking guy so I agreed. It was actually Basta himself who came up with the idea of leaning with his back against the stone wall at the base of the lighthouse tower with his dick in the air. It turned out really well.”

“How long did Basta stay?”

“Max, two hours. He watched when I shot Marcus and then I took the pictures of him. Then he left.”

“Did it seem like they had a relationship?”

At first Bolin looked uncertain, but then he shrugged. His voice sounded rough when he said, “Before Basta left they had a go behind the lighthouse.”

Again Irene felt a strong desire to press him about his relationship with Marcus, but she stopped herself. That wasn’t what was most important right then. What was urgent was trying to figure out Basta’s identity.

“Marcus never called him anything but Basta?”

“No.”

“Describe Basta.”

“The same age as Marcus and me. Tall. Over six feet. In good shape. Probably lifts weights. Shoulder-length hair, relatively blond. Yellowish blond, you would probably call it. He had it pulled back in a ponytail.”

“Did he speak Swedish or Danish?”

“Swedish.”

“Dialect?”

“I don’t remember exactly, but I think he was from Goteborg. Yet he didn’t have the typical thick dialect. I would have remembered if that had been the case.”

“Were his license plates Swedish or Danish?”

“No idea. He parked the jeep on the beach, maybe a hundred meters away.”

“Eye color?”

“Blue. I think.”

“Could I borrow this one from you?” Irene said and held up Manpower.

“Sure.”

“Do you still have the other pictures you took of him?”

There was a chance that Basta’s face might be clearer on one of the other pictures.

“Yeah. . somewhere. But I only took one roll of him.”

“How many pictures are there on one roll?”

“Twelve.”

“Can you try and find the pictures for me?”

“Certainly. But a major client is coming here in a while. I’ll have to look after he’s left.”

“If you find them, maybe you can leave them in reception at the police station. Put them in an envelope and write my name on it.”

Irene held out her card. Erik Bolin took it and put it in the pocket of his jeans.

“A WHOLE day wasted! Couldn’t you have found him earlier?” Jonny grunted.

Was he serious? Irene gave him a sharp look and determined that he was. It was late and her blood sugar was low and she was tired. Her anger rose and she snapped, “Be happy I found him. Otherwise you would have had to trot around town tomorrow, too!”

“About tomorrow. How are we going to organize it?” Birgitta interrupted in order to break up the quarrel.

Strange, she was usually the one who became most upset at Jonny and his comments. Maybe things were different now that she had become Mrs. Rauhala. But of course she was thinking about keeping her last name and continuing to be called Moberg. Nothing could be seen yet of her pregnancy, even though she had purchased new pants in a slightly looser style than the jeans she usually wore.

“Are you going to get the other pictures of that Bastu guy? What did the photographer say?” Andersson asked.

“Basta. Yes. Bolin is going to leave them at reception tomorrow.”

“Then we’ll have to hit the street looking for Basta. Strange name,” the superintendent muttered.

“Has anyone managed to access Marcus’s computer yet?” Birgitta wondered.

“No. We haven’t found anyone who is good enough with computers,” said Andersson.

“I can give it a try,” Birgitta offered.

Irene made a note to herself that she should try to reach Pontus Zander. Maybe the feeler put out at the meeting for gays in the health-care field had yielded some profit.