“Did the victims know each other?” asked another TV reporter.
“No, not according to the information we have now. We’re in the process of checking their backgrounds.”
Almost an hour later, after all the journalists had finished their individual interviews, Knutas hurried out of the conference room. The governor took his arm.
“Have you got a minute?”
“Of course,” he said wearily.
He turned to lead the way to his office and closed the door behind them.
“This is a very serious situation,” said Eriksson, who was a vigorous woman of fifty-five or so. Normally she was outgoing and cheerful, but right now there were signs of great anxiety on her face. With a sigh she sank down onto the visitors’ sofa in Knutas’s office, then took off her glasses and wiped her brow with a handkerchief.
“This is a very serious situation,” she repeated. “Here we are in the middle of June. Everyone is hard at work preparing for the tourist season at all the hotels, campgrounds, youth hostels, rental cabins. The reservations are pouring in. For the time being, at any rate. The question is what will happen now. This seems to be a case of a serial killer, and that’s not something that will attract tourists. I’m concerned that these two murders will scare people away.”
“I know,” agreed Knutas, “but there’s not much we can do. None of us wants a killer on the loose.”
“What are you planning to do now? What resources are you using? I’m sure you realize how important it is that we catch this killer as soon as possible.”
“My dear governor,” said Knutas, unable to hide his irritation. “We’re doing everything we can, especially in view of our limited resources. My entire department, which means the twelve officers that are left in the criminal department after all the cutbacks and reorganizations, are working full-time on the case. I’ve also called in four investigators from the NCP, and they’ll stay on as long as necessary. I’ve put in a request to borrow a few men from the local police, even though they’re already stretched thin. We’re about to be deluged by six hundred thousand tourists, and we have to handle it with eighty-three officers for the whole island. Including the island of Faro. You can figure out for yourself what our capacity is like. There just aren’t any other resources to draw on.” He gave Eriksson a stern look.
“Oh, I know. I understand. I’m just worried about the consequences. And the employment situation. So many people make their living from tourism.”
“You’re going to have to give us a little time,” said Knutas. “It’s scarcely been forty-eight hours since the second homicide was committed. Maybe we’ll be able to catch the perpetrator within a few days. Then the whole thing will be over. Let’s not rush to think the worst.”
“I hope to God you’re right,” said the governor with a sigh.
“Shit.”
Knutas had just taken a bite of a dry sandwich from a vending machine and got a piece stuck in his throat, which led to a lengthy coughing fit. His colleagues, who had all gathered to watch the Sunday evening news in the lunchroom, shushed him.
Knutas felt a throbbing in his temples. The story about the latest homicide had contained far too much information.
“How can they know so much? That part about the knife wound? And the panties?” exclaimed Knutas when he was done coughing.
His face was bright red, both from coughing and from anger.
“How did that happen? How the hell are we supposed to do investigative work under these conditions! Who’s been leaking information to the press?”
Everyone exchanged surprised glances. Scattered murmurs of denial were heard. People were shaking their heads. Some decided it was best not to get involved.
Knutas strode back to his office, slamming the door so hard that the windowpane in the upper part of the door rattled. He rummaged around to find Johan Berg’s business card. The journalist answered after two rings.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” thundered Knutas without identifying himself.
“What do you mean?” asked Johan, who knew exactly what this was all about.
“How can you broadcast the sort of information that was just on the news? Don’t you realize that it interferes with our work? We’re in the middle of hunting for a killer! And what kind of proof do you have? Where did you get that information?”
“I can understand why you’re upset.” Johan was speaking in his most soothing tone of voice. “But you have to try to see things from our point of view.”
“Just what kind of fucking point of view would that be? We’re conducting a homicide investigation here!”
“First of all, we would never report any information unless we were a hundred percent sure that it was true. I happen to know that things were exactly the way we described them in the story. Second, we consider it’s relevant to report that all indications point to a serial killer at work. The panties in the mouth is the most convincing proof of that, and the information is of such general interest that it had to be made public.”
“Who do you think you are, to make that sort of decision? General interest!”
Knutas spat out the words. Johan could just imagine the saliva spattering the receiver.
“Okay, all right,” said Knutas. “But the fact that all this information is also being broadcast straight to the murderer-you’re not taking that into consideration at all!”
“People have the right to know that a serial killer is on the loose. We’re just doing our job. I’m truly sorry if it interferes with your work, but I also have to think about my own work.”
“And what tells you that all of those details are true? How do you know for sure?”
“Naturally I can’t tell you that, but I have a very reliable source.”
“A reliable source, you say. That can only mean someone inside headquarters. One of my closest associates. You have to tell me who it is. Otherwise we’re not going to be able to continue working as a team.”
Knutas sounded somewhat calmer, but Johan felt his patience running out. “As a police officer, you should know the law well enough to know that you can’t ask me that question,” he said acidly. “You have no right to investigate our sources. But since I respect your work, I can tell you this much. It’s not any of your closest associates or anyone on the investigative team itself. At least not the person who’s been giving me the information. That’s all I can say. And keep in mind that just because we journalists find out about something, that doesn’t mean that we have to make it public immediately. It depends whether it’s justified or not. I knew about the panties right after the murder of Helena Hillerstrom, but it wasn’t until now that there was any reason to make it public.”
Knutas sighed. “I expect you’ll warn me, at least, the next time you’re thinking of publicizing sensitive and confidential information. I’d like to avoid having a heart attack.”
“Sure, I can do that. I hope you can understand my side of the issue.”
“Well, I guess I’ll have to. But don’t ask me to understand how you journalists think,” said Knutas, and he hung up.
It was past eight in the evening, and it wasn’t until now that Knutas realized how tired he was. He leaned back in his chair. Who the hell had leaked the information? He trusted his colleagues, but right now he didn’t know what to think. Yet he believed what Johan Berg had said, that it wasn’t anyone who was part of the investigation.
Even though he had been annoyed by that reporter several times during the investigation, he had a feeling that Johan Berg was serious about his work. Not like certain other journalists who didn’t pay any attention to what was said but just continued on, endlessly asking questions about matters that he had told them he couldn’t discuss. He got so mad at Johan not because of his manner but because he was so well informed. Reluctantly, Knutas had to acknowledge that he actually could understand the way Johan thought. But how was he finding out so much? Naturally Knutas was quite familiar with how easily information could spread. Something had to be done about it. Was it happening via the police radio? They had to look into how much was being said and what was being said. The Gotland police had little experience when it came to dealing with the press on such a large scale.