“Just yanking your chain,” Mollerstrom said. “Since you’re the one listening to it, I’ll hazard a wild guess that it’s John Coltrane.”
“Naturally. But I don’t suppose that’s why you stopped by.”
“I have a letter here that I think you should look at,” Mollerstrom said.
“Okay.” Winter took the Xerox and read it, then turned his gaze back to his registry clerk. “What makes you think this might be something?”
“I don’t know. Maybe because they’re two of them-that older lady and the girl writing on her behalf, so to speak.”
“There’s something hesitant about it.”
“Exactly. Or restrained, as if they’re doing their duty or something. Not trying to get attention.”
“Not wackos, you mean?”
“Yes.”
“The one who wrote the letter-Karin Sohlberg-she’s added that we can call her if it’s worth investigating. That’s what she writes, ‘worth investigating.’ ”
“I saw that.”
“What do you think, Janne?”
“About what?”
“Is this letter worth investigating? Should we call her?”
“That’s why I came by.”
“Good.” Winter reached for the telephone.
It wouldn’t be the first time in the past week they’d gone out to speak with the family of someone who’d been reported missing, only to discover a natural explanation for the “disappearance.” The most natural one being that no one had disappeared. In the most drastic instance, a young woman had been in the hospital without her neighbors knowing about it.
“Hello? Karin Sohlberg? This is Inspector Erik Winter at district CID, homicide division.” He waved at Mollerstrom to turn down the volume. “Yes, we received the letter. That’s why I’m calling. Leave that for us to decide. It’s never wrong to be vigilant. But Ester’s the one who’s particularly concerned? That could be a good thing. Yes. One should always care about others.” Winter nodded to Mollerstrom to turn off the music completely.
“Helene Andersen actually hasn’t been seen for a while,” Karin Sohlberg said on the telephone from Hisingen.
Winter thought at first that he had misheard. That it was his own thoughts he had perceived, that the old dreams were suddenly back again. He saw his Helene, her face in the obscene light over the gurney. “Excuse me?” he said. “What did you say her name was?”
“Helene Andersen. She’s the one we’re concerned about, but I didn’t want to wri-”
“So this woman that you haven’t seen for a while, her name is Helene?” Winter felt that the incredulity in his voice was far too obvious. He had spoken gruffly, his throat constricted.
“Is there something wrong? Was it a mista-”
“No no,” Winter said. “It’s just fine. We’ll be happy to come out and talk with you about this. Could we meet,” he looked at his watch, “in half an hour? In the courtyard you referred to in your letter?”
“Do you always proceed this way?”
“Excuse me?”
“Do you always investigate things this promptly?”
“The important thing is to meet up and talk about it.”
“In that case we can do it at my office,” she said. “It’s just next door. You’ll see it when you come up from the parking lot.” She gave them an address. “Should I ask Mrs.-Ester Bergman to come here?”
“No. We’ll come by and talk with you, and then we can go to her house together.” Winter thought for a moment. “Could you let her know that we would like to ask her a few questions today? It won’t take long.”
“She’s probably a little anxious about that. That a lot of people might come, for example.”
“I understand. But it’ll just be me.”
“She has this image of uniforms and dog leashes. And dogs too, for that matter.”
“It’ll just be me,” Winter repeated. “A nice young man who’d love to come in for a cup of coffee.”
Halders tried not to think about whether the man sitting in front of him was lying because he was just nervous in general or because he had something to hide. It was nothing big, just little lies that flickered in the corner of his eye every time he shifted his gaze. It was easy to see. Each time he told a little lie, he looked away. Halders wondered if they should be clearer in their questioning. Have a clearer intention.
“I haven’t been part of that gang for ten years.”
The man had come straight here from his auto repair shop, and Halders noticed thin strips of oil and other crud underneath the man’s nails, and that was a likable quality. Overall, he was a likable guy, apart from his furtive gaze.
“What gang?” Halders asked.
“You know. You’ve spoken about it before.”
“I didn’t say anything about a gang.”
“Then it was somebody else. But I’m clean. I keep my head down.”
“Can you ever really steer clear?”
“Of course you can. There’s so much fear propaganda.”
“You’re saying it’s propaganda?”
“I’m saying it’s exaggerated.”
“But you still keep your head down.”
“It sounds like I’m under suspicion for something.”
Halders didn’t answer the man, whose name was Jonas Svensk.
“Am I?”
“I just want you to tell me about Peter Bolander,” Halders said.
“He works in my repair shop, and that’s all I can tell you about him. You’ll have to ask him.”
“He, on the other hand, is under suspicion,” Halders said.
“I know that he’s been arrested in connection with that shoot-out on Varvaderstorget, but I also know that he says that he wasn’t there,” Svensk said.
“He was seen there. Holding a rifle. And when we came to see him at his house, his Remington was gone.”
Svensk shrugged his shoulders. “Rifles can get stolen. That’s what he says too. And he looks like a hundred other guys. But I don’t know either way. I’m not here to defend him for something I don’t know if he’s done or not. He was off work that day, I already told you. And I certainly wasn’t there. I’ve got an alibi.”
Halders didn’t answer.
“It’s not a crime to hire people,” Svensk said.
“No.”
“I used to be a member of Hells Angels. Peter might also have been. But you can’t accuse me of anything. I’m not a member anymore. It was a sin of my youth.”
“Okay.”
“And if you think this is a gang showdown, then you’re mistaken.”
“Why would we think that?”
“Isn’t that what you think?”
“That it was a showdown between gangs?”
“Yes.”
“Or an internal showdown?”
“Well, I don’t know.”
“It’s hardly a secret, even for someone who keeps his head low, that there have been showdowns within the Hells Angels in Gothenburg.”
“I may have seen something about it. But wasn’t that the Bandidos?”
