“Hi, Sara. It’s Irene. Is your pappa home?”
“No. He’s walking around the neighborhood to exercise a bit.”
“Is he having a hard time walking?”
“Yeah. He’s stiff. Oh! Is it true that Sammie’s a father?”
“Of course. Three of them. One boy and two girls.”
“Oooh! How old are they?”
Irene had to think. At the same time an idea started to take shape. “The puppies are almost five weeks. They are sooooo adorable!” she replied.
“Can I come and see them? Can I?”
“Of course. Bring your father now that he’s off work and come over when you can. But telephone first. The puppies are with their mother so we have to call her family and see if they are home.”
They said good-bye and hung up. Irene felt slightly guilty, since Tommy was her best friend. But she had to find good homes for the puppies, she told herself, in order to clear her conscience.
“ I ACTUALLY think that Lenny will take one of the puppies,” said Krister.
It was late at night, and they had already crawled into bed. Lenny was a cook at the restaurant where Krister was master chef.
“Doesn’t Lenny already have a dog? A fox terrier?” Irene asked.
“Yes. Or no. It died a month ago. The kids are having a difficult time. And it would be good for Lenny and his wife as well. They had decided to buy a new one and then I suggested one of Sammie’s puppies. It seems as though they are interested, and it isn’t a problem that they are mixed breed.”
Irene was hesitant at first to tell about her attempt at finding a home for one of the puppies. In the end she decided to confess. “I, too, have planted a seed.”
“Really? With whom?”
“Sara. Tommy’s middle daughter.”
“He’s always said he didn’t want a dog! Now he’ll be upset.”
“Just wait till he sees them. They’re absolutely wonderful!”
“Aren’t all puppies?”
“Exactly. That’s why we need to get them here as soon as possible to see them while they’re so little.”
Krister laughed and moved over to his wife’s side of the bed.
Chapter 5
THE PICTURE THE tattoo appeared on the front page of all the newspapers. Every time the phone rang, Irene’s pulse sped up.
But at the end of the day not a single useful tip had come in. Just the usual array of idiots who always called as soon as the police asked for help through the media, had responded.
“I was the one who dismembered the man. Oh, you recognize me? Of course, I was the one who shot Olof Palme!” or “My neighbor killed that poor man. He has drinking parties late into the night so no one in the building can sleep! Sometimes they fight in there. He dismembered one of his drinking buddies. Believe me. What am I basing my accusations on? He looks deceitful!”
It became tiring to listen to this sort of report but everything had to be noted and checked out.
Some members of the group ran into other obstacles. The witness who had reported Robert Larsson’s threats backed down. Suddenly, she hadn’t heard him express any threats toward Laban. The witness’s own injuries had occurred when she “fell down the stairs.” That was the same story she had given when she arrived at the emergency room. And she had made up the stuff about Robert taking the largest portion of her income from prostitution. She just wanted to get back at him because she was angry and jealous.
Despite heavy pressure during the interrogation, she didn’t change her new story. No one doubted that she had been threatened, even though the police had tried to protect her within the limits of their resources. A messenger had gotten to her.
The entire case against Robert Larsson burst like a popped balloon. Nothing could be proved without witnesses. And no new witnesses from the evening Laban was killed had surfaced. No one had seen a thing! Larsson was already out of jail and now they had to drop the investigation of him and his business dealings.
“You’ll have to take him like they took Capone,” said Superintendent Andersson.
“Al Capone?” Fredrik asked stupidly.
“Who else? He was convicted of tax evasion. That’s the problem for the bosses in the drug and sex business. Business is too good and brings in too much profit. It’s hard to launder all the money.”
“The sex industry brings in more money than the drug trade in the USA. And the risk of jail time is a lot lower,” Birgitta put in.
“Why is there less risk?” Irene asked.
“No one wants to mess with it. Everyone has a skeleton in the closet, and we know how the Americans are as soon as it comes to sex. As soon as the smallest sex scandal involving some celebrity or politician comes out, they are horrified and go through the roof,” said Birgitta.
“Everything should be nice and neat on the surface. Everyone pretends not to know what lies beneath,” Irene agreed.
Fredrik had been sitting leaning back in his chair, blankly staring at the ceiling. Now he sat up and said with his usual energy, “I’m going to talk with Annika Nilzén in Narcotics again. We might be able to get some help from Financial Crimes if they’ll keep an eye on that slimy Robert’s finances. The money is laundered through the club.”
“Definitely,” Andersson agreed. He sat absentmindedly folding an origami paper swallow. Irene noticed that the paper was one of the copies of the tattoo.
“Should we contact Interpol now?” she asked.
Andersson nodded. He tried to straighten out the paper again but the folds were too sharp. Luckily there were more copies.
“I’ll send out a query about the tattoo. Then all we can do is wait.”
“Tomorrow is a holiday, Ascension Day. Probably no one will call us. Friday is a working day between holidays and our colleagues in Europe are probably also on holiday. Then it’s the weekend. So it looks like nothing will happen before Monday,” said Birgitta.
She turned out to be right. Nothing happened before Monday, but then everything happened at once.
NO MORE sacks were found along the coast. The decision was made to continue looking for another two days before the search was called off. Two weeks would have to do. Andersson had absolutely nothing new on the Monday morning after the Ascension Day weekend. He sent everyone off to work on their own.
Irene was happy that Tommy was back at work even though he still walked stiffly. When he arrived at the office they shared he said, “Sara apparently talked with you about Sammie’s puppies.”
Irene tried to sound innocent. “She asked if it was true that Sammie has become a father and. .”
“And you immediately invited her to come and look at them.” Irene didn’t answer. He knew her all too well.
“We actually had a family meeting about it. With four votes to one, the Persson family has decided to come over to your place and look at puppies.”
Irene could hardly believe her ears. With four votes to one, the Perssons were practically dog owners already! She tried not to show her excitement and instead said in a neutral tone, “When do you want to look at them?”
“Tomorrow night.”
“I’ll call the dog’s owner and see. There’s actually a friend of Krister’s from work who’s also interested. . ”
“I just want to point out that your friend from work is not interested. Due to pressure from young children, you have made his family interested. There’s a big difference.”
Boy, did he sound sour, but not without good reason, Irene admitted to herself. She was saved by the ring of the telephone. She barely had time to lift the receiver before she heard Yvonne Stridner’s sharp voice. “This is Professor Stridner. I obtained some interesting information in London.”