didn’t say anything to anyone anyway.” He looked at Winter, who shook his head. “We have to hope our witnesses will keep their oath of confidentiality.”
“How do we deal with the press, then? It would be strange if they didn’t pick up the scent,” Halders said.
“I haven’t heard anything yet,” Ringmar said.
“It would be strange,” Halders said, “if they didn’t already know something.”
“I’ll handle all contact with the press,” Winter said. “I’ve spoken to Sture and Wellman.”
“That’s a damn good idea,” Halders said. “I would have given the exact same order.” He saw that Winter understood that he was serious.
“So where are we now?” Helander asked.
“I’ve spoken to the post office in Molnlycke,” Winter said. “The camera’s all set. We might even get two. We’re going to try to give the impression that it’s always been there.”
“Who’s going to be in position inside the post office?” Bergenhem asked.
“I was going to suggest that you do it,” Winter said.
“Me?”
“We need to have someone who looks as ordinary as possible,” Halders said.
“Yeah, well we can’t have someone who scares away the customers, can we?” Bergenhem said, and turned toward Halders. “When do you want me to head over there?” he asked, turning back to Winter.
“Now. I’ll talk to you just as soon as we’re done here. And you will be relieved.”
“How’s the search going?” Bergenhem asked.
Winter gazed at his database expert.
“Nothing so far,” Mollerstrom said. “We’re still working through the central criminal-records database.”
“Has surveillance gotten busy on this yet?” Halders asked. “With the latest, I mean? The names.”
“Of course,” Ringmar said.
“There’s always an informant who knows something,” Halders said. “Take the shoot-out at Varvaderstorget. That could get solved using your stoolie. Someone knows somebody else who knows something more.”
“I know,” Ringmar said.
Winter took the floor again.
“We’re waiting for the list of everyone she’s called.”
“Then it’s in the bag,” Halders said.
She may have only called out for pizza, thought Helander, but she didn’t say it.
Winter felt the team’s impatience, the urge to work and the frustration at having to wait for documents and lists and results to provide a little guidance for the way forward. Another name could pave the way to greater clarity. A new address. A fingerprint. He thought of the technicians leaning over their instruments.
“How’s it coming along with the fingerprints from her apartment?” Bergenhem asked.
“Her daughter’s are there, we presume, since there’s a set that belongs to a child,” Winter said. “There were at least two other unknown sets of prints. In addition to Helene’s, of course.”
“At least?”
“That’s what we know so far. There’s also a partial print. But they’re not done with the whole apartment yet. Then there’s the basement storage room.”
“What do you mean by partial?” Bergenhem asked.
“According to Beier there’s a partial fingerprint on a dresser drawer, I think he said it was. I don’t know how big it is yet, or whether it’s big enough to be used to establish full identity at some point. Forensics doesn’t know yet. But it’s there.”
“Was it a torn glove?” Helander asked.
“Probably,” Winter said, and looked at her. “That was good thinking. There was a piece of fiber next to the print. It could come from the apartment or from anywhere, but someone may have torn a little hole in their glove. Against the edge of the drawer. That’s where the print is.”
32
Two police officers he barely knew were there. They weren’t wearing uniforms, but they stood out in the surroundings, strangers in a foreign land.
He went over and said hello. Before them lay the remains of a small fireworks rocket, in red and gold paper with blackened tasseled edges that were slowly being eaten away by the wind gusting from the north-west. The spent paper canisters rolled back and forth.
“Probably another damn ethnic group celebrating its own damn New Year,” one of the officers said, and gestured at the ground. The other sniggered. “Or else they have to set some off every day, to remind them of home back in Kurdistan.”
“What was that?” Winter said.
“What?”
“What you said just now. About the New Year. And Kurdistan.”
“What’s the big deal?” He turned to his partner. “It was just a joke, right?” He looked at Winter. “You got a problem or something?”
“It wasn’t funny,” Winter said. “I can’t have officers with prejudices against the people who live here working this assignment. This investigation is way too important.”
“Oh give me a-”
“I don’t want you here,” Winter said. “Get out of here.”
“This is craz-”
“I decide who does what around here. And I’m ordering you to go back to the station and report to Inspector Ringmar. He’ll assign you new duties. I’ll call him.”
Winter had already started walking away and called Ringmar as he walked. Ringmar answered after the second ring, and Winter explained.
“You can’t do that, Erik.”
“It’s already done. You’ll have to try to send down a couple more guys. We need them.”
It sounded like Ringmar sighed.
“What should I say to those two jugheads when they show up?”
“Just give them something else to do. Put them on the cars.”
“Yeah, maybe they’re better suited to that,” Ringmar said. “Assuming none of the owners is of foreign extraction.”
As Winter neared Helene Andersen’s apartment he heard children’s voices. The temperature had dropped during the night, and on his way into the shop that lay a hundred or so yards from Karin Sohlberg’s residential services office he zipped up his leather jacket.
Immediately upon entering he caught the smell of exotic herbs and spices. The shelves to the right were filled with glass jars of pickled foodstuffs and tin cans containing southern European and oriental dishes.
A sign with “Halal” written on it hung above the meat counter, which was half-filled with sausages, lamb shoulder, and tripe. The vegetable counter was stuffed to the brim with ten different kinds of bell peppers, big spotted tomatoes, strange-looking root vegetables, thick bunches of coriander, and other fresh herbs. The selection was bigger and more interesting than in any of the delicatessens in the city center or the indoor market.
Had Helene ever bought anything here?
Sometime over the course of the day, one of his investigators would come by and ask questions. Winter left
