“The victims were shot with Rebecka’s brother’s rifle. Both the rifle and the ammunition were found at the scene. All a person familiar with weapons had to do was load and shoot,” Glen said.
The wild look in Andrew’s eyes disappeared. He leaned forward and took off his glasses, leaned his elbows heavily on his knees, and hid his face in his hands.
“This cannot be true,” he mumbled.
Fumbling, he put his glasses back on and looked at the clock. “You’ll have to excuse me, but I need to leave for Edinburgh,” he said, pulling himself together.
They stood at the same time. Glen and Irene thanked him for the wonderful lunch and the whisky. They walked together in silence through the museum-like rooms and into the enormous hall. Andrew went up to the carved cabinet and took out their jackets, as well as a plaid scarf in the same pattern as the pants he wore, and began to wind it around his neck. Irene couldn’t keep from exclaiming. Andrew stopped, and both he and Glen looked at her.
“Excuse me. The scarf. Is it yours?” Irene got out.
Andrew looked even more surprised. “Yes, of course. It’s the St. Clair plaid.”
Irene stared as if bewitched at the scarf, which was bright red, blue, and green. Fringe hung along its edges. The pieces of yarn that Irene had found in the bushes at the cottage could well have come from the fringes of this scarf. And later Fredrik had found yet another tuft of yarn in the spruce hedge at the rectory which could also have come from the scarf.
“Is there something in particular bothering you?” Andrew asked, a little irritated.
“Yes.”
Irene explained about the finding of the fragments of yarn. With a tired gesture, Andrew took off the scarf saying, “Here. Take it. Analyze it, or do whatever it is you do. But I promise that this scarf has never been in Göteborg.”
He handed the scarf to Irene.
“There are other scarves that might have been in Göteborg. I gave all my customers, employees, friends, and relatives one of these as a Christmas present last year. Rebecka also has one, since she was here last Christmas. And Christian, Mary. . every one of them has a scarf like this,” Andrew added.
Glen nodded and said, “But only one has been to Sweden.”
“Not mine,” was Andrew’s final reply.
They walked out to the courtyard and to their respective cars. Their red Range Rover looked middle-class and boring next to Andrew’s silver-colored Porsche. He was in a hurry and threw himself into the sports car with a quick “good-bye,” then disappeared through the gate.
“I understand why he became upset,” said Irene.
“Me, too. He seems to be a nice guy. But we have to follow-” HE WAS interrupted by his cell phone ringing. He took it out of his pocket and answered it. After a few abrupt “Yesses” and “I understands,” he ended the conversation. He stared at Irene before he said, “Now things are happening. That was my boss. Christian Lefévre has kidnapped Rebecka. No one knows where they are.”
Chapter 19
IRENE CALLED SUPERINTENDENT ANDERSSON on her cell phone. It took quite a while to explain everything that had happened, but in the end he understood. After many protests, he finally gave in. Irene had permission to stay in London and keep an eye on the new developments in the case.
“As soon as we send you out, there’s always so damn much fuss,” he grumbled.
Irene became angry and said, sharply, “I’ve only been abroad for work once before!”
“Exactly. And don’t you dare say that there wasn’t any fuss that time!” Andersson exclaimed triumphantly.
She had no good response. But the superintendent’s criticism was unfair. She had not caused any of the developments in this investigation. But maybe the questions she and Glen had asked had provoked a reaction?
She ended the conversation and asked Glen, “What happened at the hospital?”
“According to my boss, Christian came to the clinic during regular visiting hours, between one and two. There are always more people moving about then, so it took nearly a half hour after visiting hours were over for the staff to discover that Rebecka was gone. At first they searched the ward and the clinic. When they couldn’t find her, they contacted the police.”
“Did he remove her by force?”
“We don’t know for sure, since no one saw them leave the clinic. But there’s nothing to indicate that he used force.”
“Have they searched their apartments? And the office?”
“Of course. That was the first place they went. They aren’t there.”
“Where can they be?”
“No idea.”
They were approaching the airport, and traffic increased. Irene wondered who might know where Rebecka and Christian were. She took out her wallet and, after some rummaging around, found the note she was looking for. It was worth a try, she thought, as she punched in Kjell Sjönell’s cell phone number.
Irene quickly explained the situation to the pastor and asked him, “Do you have any idea where they may be?”
“No idea. But why would Christian kidnap Rebecka? There’s no ransom money to ask for. What is his motive?”
“We don’t know. But a great deal of evidence points to Christian having murdered Rebecka’s family. And now he has taken her.”
“Good Lord! Is he crazy?” Kjell Sjönell exclaimed.
“Possibly, although the impression he gave me was that he was mentally stable. What was your reaction when you met him?”
“The same as yours. Obviously, he was upset and concerned about Rebecka, but that’s only natural.”
“Have you any suggestion to offer?” Irene asked.
Glen had parked the Rover in front of the Avis office and gotten out of the car, but Irene remained to finish the conversation.
“Call each of their friends and every family member that you can come up with. Maybe one of them will have an idea about where they might be. Otherwise, the only advice I can give is to wait and hope that they’ll get in touch somehow.”
Irene realized that he was right. It felt frustrating to have to accept it, but she thanked the pastor and hung up.
Glen had already called Estelle and arranged for a new room for Irene. Irene called home, but there was no answer. She reached Krister at the restaurant. He calmly accepted the news of his wife’s extended stay in England. “Take care, honey.”
AFTER ENDURING bumper-to-bumper rush-hour traffic, they finally made it to the Thompson Hotel. It felt like coming home to Irene. A young girl with spiky red hair stood behind the reception desk and smiled in welcome. Irene explained who she was and was given a key. To her joy, they had given her a room on the second floor this time. Two fewer floors to climb. She threw her bag down and went to the bathroom before she rushed to the lobby again.
Glen was sitting on the sofa with a cigarette in one hand and his cell phone in the other. He looked up and smiled when Irene came up to him.
“I have been looking for Andrew St. Clair, but I haven’t managed to reach him. His secretary has promised that he’ll contact us as soon as he has a chance. But I did speak with Dr. Fischer. He was furious. I hope we find Christian before he does.”
“Did he have a theory about where they might be?”
“No. Not the faintest idea.”
Irene sat down on the sofa next to Glen. Together they tried to think of another person who might know where Rebecka and Christian could be. Glen had asked Andrew’s secretary if she knew at which company Mary Lefévre worked as financial manager. She knew; but when they telephoned the company, the Edinburgh Tweed Company, her male assistant informed them that Mrs. Lefévre had just left on a business trip to Germany and wasn’t expected back until next Wednesday. Unfortunately, he didn’t know which airport the plane would land at. According to him, she was going to spend the weekend with German friends, but he didn’t know what their names were or where they lived. He promised to contact the companies Mrs. Lefévre was going to visit and leave a message for her to contact Glen Thompson right away.