Anxiety gnawed inside her. The children certainly wouldn’t be asleep at eleven in the morning, but they could hardly have gone out, either. Or was she so stressed she’d forgotten one of their activities? Some gym display or football training session?
Ellen tried to work for a while. She was still waiting for Peder’s results. After a while she rang home again. Still no answer. She rang both children’s mobiles. Neither answered.
Ellen sat silently at her desk. She was worried about the children. She was worried that Carl hadn’t been in touch. She looked at the flowers on her desk. She thought of all the confidences she and Carl had exchanged. She remembered him saying that she was so important to him. That she gave him ‘everything he needed’.
Then Ellen realized how everything fitted together. Suddenly she wasn’t worried or irritated any more. She was terror-stricken.
Alex Recht barely had time to hang up before Peder and Fredrika came into his room and lined up in front of his desk. Like two schoolchildren. Alex smiled to himself.
‘I assume you two have heard the good news?’
Peder and Fredrika looked at each other.
‘That we’ve got him?’ Alex clarified.
Fredrika and Peder both stared at him.
‘But how’s that possible?’ exclaimed Fredrika.
‘Simple,’ Alex said delightedly. ‘He tried to take a flight from Copenhagen to Thailand and was stopped at passport control. We were just in time getting Interpol on side, to block his passport.’
‘Sorry, but who are you talking about?’ asked a confused Peder.
Alex frowned.
‘Gabriel Sebastiansson, who else?’
A heavy sigh escaped Fredrika and she was obliged to sink into Alex’s visitor’s chair.
‘We thought you meant the murderer,’ she said under her breath.
‘No, no,’ Alex said irascibly. ‘We’ve scarcely even identified him yet.’
Peder and Fredrika exchanged looks again.
‘Well, we might have,’ said Peder.
Alex gestured to him to take the other chair.
Fredrika was about to say something when Ellen came rushing in.
‘I’m sorry,’ she said in a choked voice, ‘but I’ve got to go home for a little while. I’ll be back soon.’
‘What’s happened?’ asked Alex, concerned. ‘We really do need you here just now…’
‘I know,’ sighed Ellen, ‘but the children aren’t answering any of the phones and they’re not used to being left on their own at home. I rang their dad as well, and friends they sometimes go to. Nobody’s seen them. I just want to pop home and check everything’s all right. And give them a good telling off for not answering when their poor, worried mum rings.’
‘Okay, but hurry back,’ said Alex.
Alex had raised children of his own. He would have done exactly the same thing in Ellen’s place. And he would most certainly have told them off. In no uncertain terms.
‘Tell them you’ll send me round next time,’ he called after her.
Then he turned his attention back to Fredrika and Peder.
‘We think he’s a psychologist, just like he told Nora and Jelena,’ Fredrika began eagerly, her eyes gleaming.
‘And we think it was his work as a psychologist that brought him into contact with the women whose children have been murdered,’ Peder went on.
Alex hoped they weren’t going to carry on with this double act. It would only end up confusing him.
‘It’s standard procedure, you see, for women to be offered counselling when they have an abortion,’ Fredrika explained. ‘And we’ve found entries in both women’s hospital notes saying they accepted the offer.’
Peder flicked through the sheets of paper he was holding.
‘According to her file, Magdalena Gregersdotter had a session with a psychology student who was on a placement at Söder Hospital at the time. Because of the trauma that resulted from the complications she had after the abortion, she also saw a fully qualified psychologist later on. But initially, when they thought the abortion had gone to plan, she spoke to a youngish guy who was still in training. According to her notes, his name was David Stenman.
Alex frowned. David?
‘Sara Sebastiansson’s abortion was done some years later, in Umeå. She had a counselling session, too,’ reported Fredrika. ‘According to her file, she saw a psychologist, but unfortunately there’s no name, just some initials: DS. I rang Umeå Hospital and they confirmed it was the same person.’
Alex looked from one to the other.
‘Did Ellen have time to give you the list of potentially interesting people from our own files?’ he asked Peder.
‘No,’ said Peder. ‘And we’ve looked up David Stenman in the National Registration Service records, and there’s nobody of that name.’
‘But we did find he had a criminal record,’ Fredrika put in. ‘He was sentenced to psychiatric care in early 2000 for arson, and released last autumn. There were extenuating circumstances: the person who died in the fire was his grandmother, who apparently abused him dreadfully when he was growing up in her care. For example: she used to burn him with matches to punish him if he’d done something stupid.’
‘And now he’s punishing others the same way,’ Alex said quietly.
‘Yes,’ responded Peder. ‘There are various other interesting details. Such as the fact that he was never meant to be born. His mother was an addict and tried to abort him herself with a knitting needle.’
‘Hence his hatred of women who allow themselves the luxury of choosing and thus – in our murderer’s eyes – commit a sin,’ Alex said matter-of-factly, and leant across the desk. ‘But if you found he had a criminal record, you must presumably have found his personal ID number and been able to check it against the registration records? Perhaps he’s changed his name?’
‘That was exactly what he did on his release,’ said Fredrika, putting a computer print-out in front of Alex.
‘He changed his name to Aron Steen. According to the National Registration Service records, he’s registered at an address in Midsommarkransen. And here’s an old passport photo, too.’
Fredrika put another sheet of paper on the desk.
Alex felt his heart pounding as he scrutinized the photograph of a rather distinguished-looking man.
‘What do you say then, Alex?’ asked Peder uneasily.
‘I say we’ve bloody well found our murderer,’ Alex replied grimly.
He clapped his hands.
‘Right,’ he said firmly. ‘Here’s how I suggest we proceed. Peder, you contact our friends in the emergency response unit. I want them to go to that address straight away and bring him in. With any luck, he may not have realized how warm we’re getting and not had time to go underground.’
Alex cleared his throat and went on.
‘Gather all the information about this bloke you possibly can on a Sunday. Talk to Magdalena and Sara again if you need to. Ask them if they remember him. It’s vital to be thorough. We mustn’t leave any stone unturned here. We need to chart every step he’s taken since they let him out. And don’t forget to report to the examining magistrate asap. Get hold of the poor bugger who’s on call today. He’s going to have plenty to do today. And go through the list as soon as you get it from Ellen. I don’t want to exclude the possibility that it’s someone else we’ve got on our files.’
Fredrika and Peder nodded eagerly, hardly able to contain themselves. Even Fredrika had been swept up in the excitement this time.
‘We’ve managed to locate his probation officer,’ she said. ‘Our friend Aron Steen’s been behaving impeccably since his release, and he’s even managed to find a job. With a cleaning company. It wouldn’t surprise me if that company happened to have had a contract with a hospital these past six months. Then we’d know where he got hold of the drugs and the surgical gloves.’