Pudgy, beard. About fifty.”
She thought about their handshakes. Thomas Soderberg had pressed her hand firmly, met her eyes steadily and held on for a moment. He was used to inspiring trust. She wondered how he would react if the police indicated that they didn’t quite believe something he said. His suit looked expensive.
Vesa Larsson’s handshake was flaccid. He wasn’t used to shaking hands. When their hands met he had actually made his greeting through a brief nod that preceded the handshake, and he was already looking at Sven- Erik.
Gunnar Isaksson had nearly crushed her hand in his. And it wasn’t the unconscious strength you sometimes find in men.
He’s just afraid of seeming weak, thought Anna-Maria.
“Before we start I’d like to know why you wish to be interviewed together,” asked Anna-Maria by way of introduction.
“This thing that’s happened is just terrible,” said Vesa Larsson after a short silence, “but we feel very strongly that the church must stand together in the days to come. This applies to us, the three pastors, most of all. There are powerful forces that will attempt to sow discord, and we intend to give these forces as few openings as possible.”
“I quite understand,” said Sven-Erik in a tone of voice that conveyed quite clearly that he didn’t understand in the slightest.
Anna-Maria looked at Sven-Erik as he pushed his lips forward, his moustache protruding like a big scrubbing brush beneath his nose.
Vesa Larsson fiddled with a button on his leather waistcoat and glanced sideways at Thomas Soderberg. Thomas Soderberg didn’t look at him, but nodded thoughtfully at what had just been said.
Aha, thought Anna-Maria, Pastor Soderberg approves of Vesa’s reply. It isn’t difficult to see who’s pulling the strings in this particular setup.
“Can you explain how the church is actually organized?” asked Anna-Maria.
“God is at the top,” replied Gunnar Isaksson in a loud voice full of faith, pointing upward. “The church has three pastors, that’s us, and five elders. If we were to compare it with a company, you could say that God is the owner, we three are the managing directors and the elders form the board.”
“I thought you wanted to talk to us about Viktor Strandgard,” interrupted Thomas Soderberg.
“We’ll get to that, we’ll get to that,” Sven-Erik assured him, almost humming.
The young man with the Bible had stopped beside a chair, and he was praying in a loud voice and waving his hands at the empty seat. Sven-Erik looked confused.
“Could I just ask…?” he said, jerking his thumb toward the young man.
“He’s praying for this evening’s service,” explained Thomas Soderberg. “Speaking in tongues can seem a little strange when you’re not used to hearing it, but I can promise you it isn’t some kind of hocus-pocus.”
“It’s important that the church is prepared with the spirit world,” explained Pastor Gunnar Isaksson, stroking his thick, well-groomed beard.
“I understand,” said Sven-Erik again, looking helplessly at Anna-Maria.
His moustache was almost at a ninety-degree angle to his face.
“So, tell us about Viktor Strandgard,” said Anna-Maria. “What kind of person was he? What did you think of him, Pastor Larsson?”
Pastor Vesa Larsson looked troubled. He swallowed vigorously before answering.
“He was dedicated. Very humble. Loved by everyone in the church community. He simply allowed himself to be used by God. Despite his, how shall I put it, elevated status within our community, he wasn’t slow to serve, even when it came to practical matters. He was on the church cleaning rota, so you’d often see him dusting these chairs. He made posters for our services…”
'Looked after the children,' added Gunnar Isaksson. 'We have a rolling program so that parents with very young children can listen in a completely focused way to the word of God.'
“Like yesterday, for example,” Vesa Larsson continued. “He didn’t join everyone for coffee after the service, instead he stayed here to tidy the chairs. That’s the disadvantage of not having pews, it can soon look a mess if you don’t put the chairs back into neat rows.”
“That must be a huge job,” said Anna-Maria. “There’s an awful lot of chairs in here. Nobody stayed behind to help him?”
“No, he said he wanted to be alone,” said Vesa Larsson. “Unfortunately we never lock the door when someone is in here, so some madman must have…”
He broke off and shook his head.
“Viktor Strandgard seems to have been a gentle soul,” said Anna-Maria.
'Yes, you could say that.' Thomas Soderberg smiled sadly.
“Do you know if he had any enemies, or had fallen out with anyone?” asked Sven-Erik.
“No, no one,” replied Vesa Larsson.
“Did he seem worried about anything? Anxious?” Sven-Erik went on.
“No,” replied Vesa Larsson again.
“What kind of work did he do for the church? He was a full-time employee, wasn’t he?” asked Sven-Erik.
“He did the work of God,” replied Gunnar Isaksson pompously, with considerable emphasis on “God.”
“And by doing the work of God he brought some money into the church,” Anna-Maria commented in measured tones. “What happened to the money from his book? What will happen to it now that he’s dead?”
Gunnar Isaksson and Vesa Larsson turned to their colleague, Thomas Soderberg.
“I don’t quite see what any of this has to do with your murder investigation?” Thomas Soderberg inquired in a friendly tone.
“Just answer the question, please,” Sven-Erik replied amiably, but with an expression on his face that brooked no argument.
'Viktor Strandgard made over all royalties from his book to the church long ago. After his death any income will continue to go to the church. So nothing will change.'
“How many copies of the book have been sold?” asked Anna-Maria.
“Over a million, including translations,” replied Pastor Soderberg dryly, “and I still don’t really see-”
“Have you sold anything else?” asked Sven-Erik. “Posters or anything?”
“This is a church, not Viktor Strandgard’s fan club,” said Thomas Soderberg sharply. “We don’t sell pictures of him, but a certain amount of income has been generated from other sources-for example, video sales.”
“What sort of videos?”
Anna-Maria adjusted her position on the chair. She needed a pee.
“We’ve taped sermons given by the three of us, or Viktor Strandgard, or guest preachers. Meetings and services have also been recorded,” replied Pastor Soderberg as he removed his glasses and took a spotless little handkerchief out of his trousers pocket.
“You record your services on video?” asked Anna-Maria, altering her position on the chair yet again.
“Yes,” answered Vesa Larsson, since Thomas Soderberg appeared to be too busy polishing his glasses to reply.
“There was a service here yesterday,” said Anna-Maria, “and Viktor Strandgard was there. Was that recorded on video?”
“Yes,” replied Pastor Larsson.
“Right, we want that tape,” Sven-Erik said firmly. “And if there’s a service tonight, we’d like that tape as well. In fact, we’ll have all the tapes for the last month-what do you think, Anna-Maria?”
“Good idea,' she answered briefly.
They looked up as the noise of the vacuum cleaner stopped. The woman who was cleaning had switched it off and gone over to the well-dressed woman; they were whispering to each other and looking over toward the pastors. The young man had sat down on one of the chairs and was leafing through his Bible. His lips were moving constantly. The well-dressed woman noticed that the conversation between the pastors and the police had ground to a halt, and seized the opportunity to come over.
“Sorry to interrupt,” she said politely, and when no one stopped her she went on, facing the pastors. “Before this evening’s service, what shall we do about…”
