‘No, it’s not the same person,’ he admitted.
Fredrika’s grip on her notebook tightened.
‘Are you sure?’
‘No, I need to look into it in the course of the day. I’ve never experienced anything like it. We followed all the procedures that…’
Impatient and elated, Fredrika interrupted him.
‘The woman had no other injuries?’ she asked.
‘How do you mean?’
‘Any injuries that might point to an alternative cause of death?’
‘No,’ said the doctor. ‘I’ve seen the autopsy report and there are no anomalies that didn’t fit the normal pathology of this woman.’
‘Normal pathology.’ The phrase made Fredrika shudder.
‘But the concrete cause of death was a heroin overdose?’
‘Yes, to put it in simple terms.’
‘And she had injected herself with it in her flat?’
Göran Ahlgren stared at her.
‘I don’t know anything about that. All I know is that she arrived here by ambulance and that it was her sister who found her in the flat. Where she got the drugs wasn’t relevant for her treatment here.’
Fredrika knew that to be true, but the police officers who were called to the hospital should have taken an interest. It was their job, not the hospital’s, to establish whether there were any grounds for suspecting a crime. She wondered how much effort had actually been put into investigating the circumstances of Karolina’s death.
‘Could anyone else have injected her with the drugs?’ Fredrika asked mistrustfully.
‘Yes, that’s possible,’ Göran Ahlgren replied. ‘But why would anyone do that?’
Because she had to disappear.
Fredrika knew they had already lost far too much time.
‘I want a DNA test done on Karolina Ahlbin’s body. I want to be absolutely certain that she was the one who died here, ten days ago.’
‘I’ll see to that, of course,’ the doctor said swiftly. ‘But we need some DNA to compare it with.’
‘You can start by comparing her DNA with her parents’. That ought not to be too difficult: they’re all here under the same roof.’
Alex Recht gloomily noted that the rotten weather was continuing as he looked out of the window on his way to Norrmalm Police Station. It had proved an easy matter to locate the officer from that district who figured in the investigation of Jakob and Marja Ahlbin’s deaths. A few quick calls to the individual’s superior and he knew the person he wanted was at the station, writing a report.
‘Keep him there,’ said Alex. ‘I’m on my way.’
It was just a few steps from group HQ to the Norrmalm Police Station. They were in adjoining buildings and the glassed-in walkway linking them enabled him to move swiftly between the two worlds without taking a step outside.
Lena rang to say she was on her way home from work and wasn’t feeling well. Alex was worried, but also a bit irritated. Why was she making a habit these days of telling him some things and saying nothing at all about others? And what in heaven’s name was up with him? Saying nothing, day after day.
With an effort he put aside all thoughts of Lena. Now was now, and now meant work.
He found Viggo Tuvesson in his office, bent over his computer keyboard. Alex cleared his throat loudly and knocked on the door frame. It took the man a second to turn round, but when he did, and saw Alex, his face lit up into a smile as if he had just spotted a close friend he had not seen for a long time.
‘Alex Recht,’ he said, so loudly that it made Alex jump, unused as he was to hearing his whole name trumpeted like that. ‘To what do I owe the honour?’
Alex couldn’t help staring at the officer and wondering what crime his disfigurement was a punishment for. The scar ran through his top lip and up towards his nose, which was bent and buckled.
Good God, thought Alex. Why didn’t someone make a better job of fixing that?
Alex warily took a seat in Viggo Tuvesson’s visitor’s chair. With his legs crossed and his chin in his hand, the younger man definitely had ownership of the meeting. That much was clear from the outset, even though Alex was senior in rank.
Alex coughed again, attempting a trial of strength with the joyless but energetic eyes observing him with such fascination. Like a monster’s.
‘You were there when they found Jakob and Marja Ahlbin last week,’ he said in an authoritative tone, keen for the discussion to be on his terms.
‘Yes,’ said Viggo Tuvesson, looking expectant.
‘Had you met either of them when they were alive?’
The question seemed to take catch him off guard. The expectant look was replaced by one of surprise.
‘No, not that I recall.’
‘You hadn’t encountered either of them previously? In other contexts, I mean.’
‘Well, I’d read about the Reverend Ahlbin in the papers of course,’ he said slowly. ‘But as I say, I hadn’t met him personally.’
‘No, so you said,’ Alex said, equally slowly.
Viggo Tuvesson shifted position in his seat and banged his knee into the desk. The pain made him grimace.
‘I heard it was your group that got the case as a whole,’ he said.
‘Yes,’ said Alex, ‘it did. And that’s why I’m here.’
‘I’m very happy to help,’ said Viggo, smiling his weird smile again.
‘We’re very grateful,’ Alex said with an unnecessary nonchalance in his voice, and went on: ‘Tony Svensson, then. Do you know him?’
The policeman nodded.
‘If you mean the Tony Svensson who’s in Sons of the People, then yes, I know him.’
‘Can you tell me how?’
‘Because he’s done some of his business here on my patch. That was how our paths crossed.’
‘What sort of business?’
Viggo Tuvesson gave a laugh.
‘We suspected him and his lads of selling alcohol to minors at Odenplan, but we could never prove anything.’
Alex vaguely recalled having heard about the matter before.
‘Did you bring him in for questioning?’
‘Oh yes, but he kept his trap firmly shut. Seemed to be having a laugh with us. Very clever, actually. Impressively well up on all the legal stuff. Knows exactly what he can get away with, so to speak.’
Like he did with the emails, thought Alex. Knew exactly how to word them so it would be hard to call them actual threats.
‘When was this?’ he asked.
Viggo Tuvesson shrugged.
‘Hard to remember exactly, but I can check if you like. About a year ago, I’d say.’
Alex gave a thoughtful nod. That fitted with what he already knew.
‘And since then? Have you had any further contact with him, I mean?’
Again they looked at each other, searching for hidden facts in each other’s eyes.
‘Yes,’ said Viggo. ‘He rang me a couple of times at work.’
‘And what did he want, if you don’t mind me asking?’
‘Wanted to grass on a former member of his network, some guy who wanted to go solo on a heist. Good old Tony evidently found that hard to accept.’
Viggo Tuvesson kept his hands in his lap.
‘I gather Tony Svensson’s cropped up in the Ahlbin investigation as well.’
‘That’s right,’ said Alex. ‘That was why I wanted to check if you had anything in particular on him.’
It was a clumsy, transparent excuse. It was obvious to anyone that Alex had sought out Viggo Tuvesson to try to find out what contact there had been between them. But Viggo let it pass.
‘I promise to get back to you if anything turns up. Sorry to disappoint you, but that’s all I’ve got for now.’
‘That’s how it goes sometimes,’ said Alex, getting up. ‘Thanks for your time.’
He shook hands with Viggo Tuvesson and headed for the lift that would take him back down to the walkway. It wasn’t just that he was disappointed with what Viggo had had to say. According to Ronny Berg when Peder talked to him, it was Jakob Ahlbin and not Tony Svensson who tipped off the police about his plans for a coup. There had been no mention of a Viggo in that context.