Grendel's Game (23 page)

“Yes. Believe it or not, I'm going around armed, and after this last package was delivered to my front door, I even sent Ingbritt out of town,” Ekman said, shaking his head in disgust.

“Well, you've done all you can to deal with that. What about this potential suspect you've found?”

“She's only a possibility at this point,” said Ekman, telling him what they'd discovered about Lindfors's marital history. “One theory we've come up with is that she, and a male accomplice, who's using the name Grendel, have created this fictitious maniac. They're using him as a ruse to distract us from the money motive that would otherwise have become obvious. What I found out this morning strengthens that theory,” Ekman said, telling Rystrom about Eugen Westberg's affair with Lindfors.

“What this may mean,” he said, “is that she made a calculated decision to become involved with the elder Westberg, but when he wouldn't leave his wife for her, shifted her attention to his unmarried son. After over a year together, Rodger is intent on marrying her, changes his will leaving her everything, and she finds this out. Three months later, he vanishes. When his body surfaces, which will probably be not too long from now, she inherits. On its face, it would look suspicious to us, so she needs a distraction: enter Grendel.

“Knowing what we do now, it makes even more sense to concentrate on Lindfors. The problem with this theory is that there are two other missing men with similar circumstances that seem to link them to Rodger Westberg's disappearance,” Ekman said, explaining these in more detail.

“I agree with you. Those are tenuous connections, but there seem to be too many to be just coincidences. They need to be explained.” Rystrom paused, looking thoughtful. “Could these other killings be additional tricks designed to confuse us?”

“You mean perhaps Lindfors and Grendel also murdered these two other men? And Westberg is supposed to look like the most recent victim in a maniac's killing spree?” asked Ekman.

“I admit it sounds extraordinarily cold-blooded, but it would make sense if Lindfors is ruthless, intent on misleading us, and planned everything some time ago. She could have selected Eugen Westberg as her next lover years before, and schemed to marry and then kill him. If that didn't work out, she could have already had his bachelor son in mind as backup.

“The other killings and seeming coincidences, like the stolen family photos, are just part of a carefully thoughtout scheme to throw a possible future police investigation off track. With tens of millions at stake, she might be willing to go to vicious extremes in advance, trusting her seductiveness to succeed with one man or the other. It also might explain Grendel's apparent personal interest in you from the beginning. It could be a clever part of their plan, intended to distract the person who would head any investigation.”

Ekman was silent for several moments, as he considered this from every angle. “It could work. You may have hit on a way to tie everything together. I'm impressed, my friend.”

With a laugh, Rystrom waved off the compliment. “They're just a series of wild-ass guesses, Walther.”

“But very shrewd guesses. If you're right, we're dealing with a pair of exceptionally dangerous psychopaths. Now we need to gather hard evidence to confirm your theory. I've already assigned a team to watch Lindfors starting later today, and we'll keep her under close surveillance. If they come up with anything, I'll ask the prosecutor for a warrant to wiretap. In the meantime, let's pursue the ties among the three men. If Lindfors and Grendel killed all of them, they may have slipped up on something that could point to them.”

“It sounds like a plan. What can I do to help?”

“You've already made a major contribution by coming up with how the puzzle pieces might fit.”

Although he was willing to go along with Rystrom's theory for now, Ekman had strong reservations. While it covered all the known facts, the theory depended on Lindfors and her accomplice, Grendel, executing an elaborate long-range, murderous deception to throw off a future investigation. In all his years as a police officer, Ekman had never heard of, let alone encountered, such farsighted, bloody-minded criminals. He knew he might have met them now and Rystrom could be right, but he was skeptical.

“What we need to do before the press conference is introduce you to Commissioner Norlander, and Olov Malmer, the DC,” Ekman said, reaching for the phone. “But let's keep your theory to ourselves for now, Garth. Otherwise, Norlander and Malmer will jump the gun and think the case is already solved, when we've just begun to figure it out.” Rystrom nodded his agreement.

An hour later, they entered Norlander's office. Malmer was already there.

“Superintendent Rystrom, it's a pleasure to meet you,” said Norlander, shaking his hand. “You come very highly recommended by an unimpeachable source.” He smiled at Ekman as he said this.

“I'm glad to be of any help I can, Commissioner,” replied Rystrom, turning to shake hands with Malmer.

Norlander led them to a seating area. “As you know, there'll be a press conference this afternoon, Superintendent, where you'll be introduced. Were you planning to say anything?”

“No, I hadn't intended to do anything except be there.”

“After I make a few brief remarks then, I'll turn the conference over to Walther. What are the main points you're going to cover?” he asked, turning to Ekman.

“I'll focus on Rodger Westberg's disappearance last Tuesday afternoon or Wednesday morning, and say we need the public's assistance in locating him. We'll distribute a photo and ask the media to print it and show it on TV with a phone number. I've already assigned two inspectors to answer the calls. Then I'll field questions, but don't intend to be very responsive. That's about it. I don't think it should run more than half an hour.”

“They won't be satisfied with that,” said Malmer, critical as usual.

“You're right. Of course, they'll push for more information. All I'll say is that the investigation is ongoing.”

“At this stage you really can't say anything else,” put in Norlander. “But perhaps you can promise them some more details at a later time.”

“I'll do that, Commissioner.”

Norlander got up. “Thanks again for coming down, Herr Rystrom. I'm sure that with CID involved our investigation will have added credibility. And your presence will also help satisfy Rodger Westberg's parents that we're doing everything that can be done,” he added.

S
eated in the restaurant across the square from headquarters, Ekman and Rystrom watched pedestrians hurrying to avoid the increasing rain, unsuccessfully trying to shield themselves with umbrellas that the wind, whipping around them, threatened to turn inside out. They'd both ordered the luncheon special: pea soup, Swedish sausage and brown beans, with ale.

Over their food, Ekman asked, “Where were you planning to stay, Garth?”

“I've already checked into the Thon on Strandgatan.”

“With Ingbritt away, I'm rattling around in the house. We've got a couple of guest rooms and I'd welcome the company.”

“Thanks for the offer. Maybe I'll take you up on it after I've had a chance to explore the town a little, okay?”

“Sure,” said Ekman, somewhat hurt that Rystrom hadn't jumped at the chance to spend more time with him. Perhaps it was best. After the long days to come working the case, they'd probably each need some time alone.

“This is good,” said Rystrom, holding up a forkful of sausage. “Thanks for suggesting this place, and for the lunch. It's not only convenient, but the food's great.”

“My pleasure,” said Ekman, digging in himself, and taking a sip of ale.

“So, tell me,” asked Rystrom, “what do you
really
think about my theory?”

Ekman was startled, and then smiled. His friend was very acute at assessing people's moods.

“Okay, you've got me,” Ekman replied. “It just seems a little far-fetched that Lindfors and her accomplice could be that astute. Setting up two killings, and those other coincidences, to cover the Westberg murder, and making up this Grendel character as the murderer, pushes the limits of my credulity. It's too neat, and gives them too much credit for creativity. In my experience, criminals aren't that smart.”

“Walther, it's only a preliminary theory,” said Rystrom. “I'm not sold on it, but I'm willing to consider it a working hypothesis until we come up with something better. That's all.”

“Good,” said Ekman, much relieved. He wanted both of them to be on the same page, and was glad Rystrom wasn't committed to his theory.

“I hope we'll know more soon,” he said. “Keeping our judgment suspended until we have better information seems essential to me.”

“I agree,” said Rystrom.

38

Press Conference

T
hirty media people, including several photographers and two television camera crews, were already milling about the front of the auditorium when the police communications officer, Lena Sahlin, a tall, red-haired woman of forty, led Norlander, Malmer, Rystrom, Ekman, and Edvardsson onto the small stage. While the others sat down in a row at a table behind her, Sahlin went to the podium microphone.

“Ladies and gentlemen, please take your seats so we can get started,” she said. It was five minutes past three.

After some shuffling about as the camera people positioned themselves, she went on, “Thank you all for coming. To begin, I'd like to introduce Commissioner Elias Norlander.” She stepped away from the microphone and went to one side of the stage, as Norlander came forward.

“Let me add my thanks to Fru Sahlin's for your coming here on short notice. The police need your assistance, and the public's, in a new case, which you will soon hear more about. Joining me today are my colleagues whom I would like to introduce to you. Seated behind me, to my right, is our Deputy Commissioner Olov Malmer.” He, and the others, stood and then sat as they were introduced. “Next to him is Superintendent Garth Nystrom, of the National Criminal Investigation Division, who has kindly agreed to assist us with our inquiries. Beside him is Prosecutor Malin Edvardsson, and next to her, heading our investigation, is Chief Superintendent Walther Ekman. All of us will be glad to try and answer any questions you may have. Now I'd like to turn the conference over to Herr Ekman.”

As Ekman stepped to the microphone, he looked around the room, and saw his own team standing around the back.

“Good afternoon. As Commissioner Norlander has said, we need your assistance, and through you, the public's, to try and locate a missing person, Advokat Rodger Westberg. He vanished Tuesday afternoon or early Wednesday, last week. Our investigation has revealed no reason for his disappearance and we've become increasingly concerned that a criminal act may have occurred. Fru Sahlin will be distributing a photo of Herr Westberg with a police phone number to call if anyone has information about his disappearance.” He held up an oversized copy of the photo with a large red phone number across the bottom. Cameras flashed.

“We would appreciate your publicizing this as widely as possible, and hope it will lead to finding Herr Westberg. I, and my colleagues, will try to answer any questions you may have.”

A hand shot up from a short, bald man in the front row. “How come all this brass,” he asked in an aggressive bass voice, pointing to the stage, “is involved in a routine missing-person case? Is it because Westberg is the son of Councillor Westberg?”

“Not at all,” replied Ekman, his voice neutral. “We treat every case with the utmost seriousness and my colleagues decided to make this clear to the public by coming here today.”

He had a point, thought Ekman. This did look like overkill. It would have been better if I held the conference myself, but Norlander wanted to make sure Westberg's father knew we were pulling out the stops.

Hands were going up around the room. He gestured to a woman two rows back.

“Has Herr Westberg been kidnapped?” she asked.

“We don't think so at this juncture because no demands have been made during the past week. Of course, this could change,” he replied.

“Has he been killed?” someone yelled out.

“We don't know that, but unfortunately, it's a possibility we must consider.”

“I've a question for Superintendent Rystrom,” said a well-dressed man in his forties. Rystrom got up and joined Ekman at the microphone.

“Why has CID been called in at this early stage? Does Stockholm think the case is that important, and if so, do you believe it's being mishandled?”

“I'm here only because I was asked by my good friend, Chief Superintendent Ekman, and your commissioner, Herr Norlander, to be of whatever assistance I can to the investigation. Every case is important, and far from being mishandled, in my professional opinion this investigation is being brilliantly directed by Herr Ekman. I hope that answers your questions,” said Nystrom, and sat down again.