Trapped, page 32
‘Why, hello there, boy!’ Christer said fondly. ‘Aren’t you a beautiful boy! Yes, you do like being scratched behind the ears. Yes, just like that …’
The dog eagerly licked Christer’s face and her colleague genuinely didn’t seem to mind. Mina watched with horror, but Vincent was grinning broadly. Eventually, Christer laboriously stood up, his knees creaking loudly.
‘Don’t you hate animals?’ she said, baffled.
‘What? No – who said that?’ said Christer, smiling. ‘Is this a new colleague then? The new Vincent? Their hair colour matches at any rate!’
Mina glowered at him and looked around, still clutching the lead. There was a table in the corridor. Perhaps it was heavy enough to keep Bosse in one place. She raised one table leg and shoved the loop of the lead around it so that the dog couldn’t go anywhere.
‘Don’t ask,’ she said. ‘I’ve got to look after it for a while.’
Vincent held open the door to the meeting room and she went in.
‘Christer! Are you coming?’ she said.
‘Yes, yes, yes. Enough nagging already,’ said Christer, who had sat down to pet the dog some more.
He ruffled the golden fur one last time and then followed them into the room.
‘Can’t believe anyone would have said I don’t like dogs,’ he muttered. ‘You can see with your own eyes how beautiful he is!’
The dog’s gaze was both crestfallen and melancholy as Mina closed the glass door, leaving him on the outside. He turned his head uncomprehendingly back and forth, and his sad whimpering was audible through the door. She ignored him. Peder and Ruben were waiting in the meeting room. Julia was apparently not yet on the scene. Peder and Ruben had definitely heard the ruckus outside and she glowered angrily at them – especially Peder, who was now smiling broadly and waving at the dog.
‘It’s a dog,’ she said with a sigh. ‘He’s called Bosse. I’m hopefully going to be rid of him soon. Right. Shall we get started?’
‘We’re waiting for Julia,’ said Ruben.
She sat down with her back pointedly turned to Bosse, got out a pack of antiseptic wet wipes and carefully wiped her hands. She shuddered as she thought about the fact that Bosse was most likely pressing his nose against the glass behind her, leaving wet impressions on it. They waited a minute or so in silence while both Christer and Peder continued waving through the glass to Bosse.
‘Is Anette feeling better, by the way? Given that you’re here,’ said Ruben, winking at Peder.
‘Er, ye-es?’ said Peder, looking at him blankly.
‘I think Ruben suspected you were actually off on adventures and that Anette was just a pretext,’ said Christer.
‘I never said that!’ Ruben exclaimed.
‘No, but for those of us who know you, your thoughts are so loud we can practically hear them,’ Christer said with a sigh.
Peder stuck his hand into the bag by his chair and pulled out an energy drink. It emitted a perky hiss when he opened it.
‘This is as adventurous as I get these days,’ he said, raising the can towards Ruben in a toast.
Julia came in through the door.
‘There’s a dog out here,’ she started by saying, before falling silent when she saw Mina’s expression. ‘OK, shall we get started? Christer and I visited Robert’s accommodation this morning but didn’t turn anything up. Since it was Vincent who called this meeting, I’m going to hand over to him.’
Vincent cleared his throat.
‘As you know, we received a call after the press conference, in which the murder date was stated to be the third of May. I think the call was genuine. I’ve previously discussed the fact that we’re dealing with someone whose personality has two sides – a kind of Doctor Jekyll and Mister Hyde, if you like. And it was Hyde who called. He was well and truly indignant – that kind of timbre in the voice is hard to fake unless you’re a method actor. What’s more, the hubris of calling in matches the arrogance the murderer has previously displayed. I’m therefore convinced that it was the murderer himself who called.’
Bosse began to headbutt the glass, whimpering loudly. Mina ignored him and nodded to Vincent that he should continue.
‘Was it Rask?’ Peder asked.
‘The recordings we have of Jonas Rask are too old for us to say for sure,’ said Julia. ‘Voices change over time.’
‘The vocabulary would suggest not,’ said Vincent. ‘I’ve listened to old interviews with Rask and he doesn’t talk like that. However, the choice of words in that call was carefully thought through. He may have had a script. And a script can be read out by anyone – even Rask. But the emphasis felt wrong.’
Bosse butted his head against the glass door so hard that it rattled, and the whimpering transitioned into a sound that was reminiscent of a wolf howling at the full moon.
‘For the love of God!’ Mina burst out in irritation, turning towards the glass door.
‘Calm down, woman, he only wants to come in here with us,’ said Christer, getting to his feet.
‘Don’t let him in.’
Christer pretended not to have heard her and opened the door. Bosse tore the lead free from the table leg and careered into the room like a cannonball. He immediately ran around the table greeting everyone, sniffing and licking. Eventually, he settled down between Peder and Christer. Mina frantically wiped her hands with yet another wet wipe. She was the only one not to have touched the dog.
‘Like a bloody circus,’ she muttered.
‘The phone call, then,’ Julia continued. ‘Did the caller give us any leads?’
Vincent paused for thought.
‘No,’ he said. ‘Well, one. It’s clear that he wants to be understood, if not caught. You know that I’ve regarded the dates as part of a message all along. Now there’s no doubt about that any longer. It’s very important to him that we have all the pieces, that we understand the message. However, I have no idea why it’s so important.’
Mina tried to take in what he had just said. She already knew most of this, but it was something else hearing it in one go, together with the others in the group. When she and Vincent talked together on their own she saw it as a possible theory, but in the meeting room it became reality. She could see from the others’ faces that they no longer had the slightest doubt about Vincent Walder.
‘It sounds like we can shut down the hotline,’ said Julia. ‘We’ve got what we needed. The other calls that came in were of no interest. Ruben? Peder? Anything to add? Have we been able to trace the call? Analysed it? Have the lists turned anything up? Have forensics found any background noise that might be useful?’
‘We’re all over it, but I haven’t got anything more specific right now. We’re waiting for information from the mobile networks and a technical voice analysis for a comparison with Rask. And the analysis of the background noise is going on right now.’
Ruben sounded, as always, as if the question put to him had been an accusation.
‘My turn then,’ said Mina, giving a measured nod to Ruben. ‘Milda called as I was on my way over. She’s got the tox screen reports back. Not just for Agnes but for Tuva and Robert as well.’
She paused for effect. She wanted to make the most of it – she wanted the impact of her words to sink in.
‘Ketamine,’ she said.
‘Ketamine?’ said Ruben, frowning.
‘Ketamine is an anaesthetic used in surgery,’ Mina explained. ‘It’s available in powdered form, tablets and ampoules. It’s easy to administer, even to the reluctant.’
Christer scratched Bosse’s belly absent-mindedly. The dog was lying on his back with his paws in the air, his ears spread out like fans and a daft grin on his face.
‘Ketamine is also what’s known as a dissociative drug, like laughing gas and PCP,’ Vincent added. ‘Addicts usually call it Ket, KitKat or Special-K – like the cereal. But as Mina says, it’s also an anaesthetic, although it’s so strong it can cause hallucinations, delirium, a racing pulse and double vision. Currently, ketamine is used for medical purposes on both people and animals.’
Vincent fell silent. Everyone stared at him.
‘Do I need to be worried by the fact that you’re so well up on it?’ Mina whispered to him.
‘The short version is that it’s been used to put the victims of crimes to sleep,’ said Ruben.
‘Addicts refer to it as falling into a K-hole,’ said Vincent.
‘Anyway, we have three victims with ketamine in their bodies,’ said Mina, clearing her throat. ‘Presumably as a way of making them more manageable. Or to heighten the nightmarish experience they found themselves in. Perhaps a mixture of both.’
‘How common is it?’ Julia asked.
‘I called a colleague in the drugs squad on the … walk … on the way here,’ said Mina, ignoring Vincent’s amused expression.
It hadn’t really been a walk. Bosse had more or less dragged her along on the soles of her shoes. All that had been missing was a sled. Vincent was probably trying to imagine the phone call and how many profanities aimed at Bosse her colleague had got in the ear.
‘It’s out on the street,’ she said. ‘Ketamine, I mean. It isn’t all that common though. In the healthcare sector, it’s occasionally prescribed as an anti-depressant. It’s mainly used by vets during surgery on a wide range of animals: cats, dogs, horses, rodents, monkeys, martens, birds of prey and parrots.’
‘The drugs squad knew all that stuff about animals?’ Ruben said. ‘Jesus, they’ve got a lot of time on their hands.’
Mina sighed.
‘No, I googled that.’
‘On your walk?’ Vincent asked with an innocent expression.
‘Yes. On the walk. Dear God, it’s like explaining something to a bunch of pre-schoolers.’
‘The kids! I’ll take the kids! It’s my turn!’ Peder exclaimed, leaping up from his slumber.
He whacked the half-full can of energy drink, tipping it over, and a puddle formed on the table in front of him.
‘I believe Peder may be producing ketamine naturally in his body,’ said Ruben. ‘Who the hell falls asleep while they’re drinking an energy drink?’
‘I give up,’ said Mina, sitting down at the end of the table with a sigh.
Bosse stood up as if to approach her, but Christer took hold of the lead and held him back. Just as well; they were on the third floor and she was quite prepared to give that dog its first and last flying lesson.
‘There’s one last thing,’ said Vincent. ‘Daniel mentioned something during the interview. A patron at the cafe where he works used to sit studying drawings. I didn’t realize at the time, but I think he may have seen the murderer. Perhaps not just once but on several occasions. Daniel could be our key to identifying the murderer. If it’s Rask he saw, then he shouldn’t have any problems recognizing him. This is why I suggested to Julia that you bring Daniel in again – right away. This could be solved very quickly.’
‘I put out an alert as soon as you called,’ said Julia. ‘I’ll have a word with uniform division, see if they’ve brought him in yet.’
There was a knock on the door and a man stuck his head in. Mina was unsure what the man’s name was – all she knew was that he was something to do with emergency services.
‘Sorry, didn’t you have … goodness, what a handsome dog!’
‘Can we help you?’ Mina said coolly.
‘Oh yes, of course. Didn’t you have a wanted notice out on one Daniel Bargabriel?’
‘Yes, we were just talking about him,’ said Julia in surprise. ‘We need to bring him back in for questioning as soon as possible.’
‘That’s going to be tricky,’ said the man. ‘He’s already here, actually. But he’s in the chiller.’
‘The chiller?’ Vincent said blankly.
‘He’s dead,’ said Mina in a low voice, looking at the floor.
Even Bosse noticed something was up and whimpered.
‘Just thought you’d like to know,’ the man said, closing the door.
76
Vincent had taken it upon himself to go and buy some proper coffee instead of having what Ruben referred to as the ‘cop coffee’ in the meeting room. However, the truth was that he needed a reason to leave the building. He exited through the main door, turned the corner and leaned against the wall. He took deep breaths. Daniel couldn’t be dead. He’d just met Daniel, spoken to Daniel. Questioned him.
The realization that it was all for real hit him with full force. What had befallen Tuva and Agnes was dreadful, but they had always been names on paper, photos on a computer. Robert had been someone he had read about in the papers. None of them had existed in his memory as flesh-and-blood people. He had been able to remain fairly rational and objective in relation to them. Distanced. But this was different. This was someone who had offered him a coffee. Bloody hell. He continued controlling his breathing until the adrenaline and cortisol slowly began to subside. Then he headed with heavy heart towards the cafe that Julia had recommended. They offered a police discount.
He bought coffee for all of them as well as every single bun that was left in the cafe, a gesture he knew Peder would appreciate.
When he returned, the mood in the meeting room was as low as when he had left it. Bosse was lying flat on the floor with his nose between his front paws. The dog looked at Vincent with an unhappy gaze without lifting his head. Were dogs allowed to eat buns? Christer might know.
‘What did I miss?’ he said, setting down the paper bags on the table and removing their contents.
Everyone gratefully accepted the coffee. When the fragrant buns appeared there was a longing yelp audible from the floor.
‘You can have a little bit,’ said Christer, tearing off a piece of bun for Bosse. He spoke to the dog as if he were a baby. ‘But dough isn’t good for you. So you can only have a little bit. Otherwise you’ll have a tummy ache, won’t you, my little man?’
‘Do you suspect any connection between Daniel’s death and the other murders?’ said Vincent.
‘There’s a witness statement,’ said Julia, shaking her head. ‘We’ve just received a copy. People with Sweden’s Future emblems on their clothing were seen running from the scene.’
‘Attacks on innocent people happen more often than you’d think,’ said Ruben. ‘The world is an unfair place. If it’s not the racists who are running amok then it’s the women.’
‘Of course, it’ll be followed up on,’ said Julia in a sharp tone and with an angry glare at Ruben. ‘But I don’t think we should hope for too much. And we’ll have to resign ourselves to the fact that, with Daniel dead, there’s no way of finding out who or what he saw. Instead we should focus on finding Rask, and trying to work out what the next murder weapon will be – i.e., the next magic trick. Not that it’ll help us to prevent another murder, given the circumstances. But it would be good to know what we can expect if we don’t solve this.’
‘I’m not sure I follow,’ said Peder, downing the portion of the energy drink that hadn’t spilled out of the can. He had already drained the takeaway coffee cup. He set down the empty can on the table and immediately fished another one out of his bag.
‘Are you really going to have coffee and two …’ Mina began but fell silent when Peder turned his tired face towards her.
‘I mean,’ said Julia, ‘what other boxes do magicians put people in so that it looks like they’re dying? Are there more varieties than the ones we’ve seen?’
All eyes turned towards Vincent. He ran his hand over his chin, thinking. He was surprised to feel stubble scratching against his fingers. How long was it since he had last shaved? That wasn’t like him. A sign of stress. He needed to remember to shave when he got home. Well, no. If he shaved in the evening he wouldn’t have to do so in the morning, which was when he usually shaved. And when would he have to do it next? His whole routine would be set off-kilter.
Daniel was dead.
He had a stomach ache at the mere thought of it. Somehow he would have to remember to shave tomorrow morning.
But Julia had posed a good question. They were waiting for him. Even Bosse was looking at him with something that resembled expectation in his eyes. Or was it just the hope of getting another piece of bun?
‘I’m afraid there are several,’ he said. ‘Illusions in which people seem to die or be maimed aren’t uncommon. Quite the contrary. Right now it feels as if most of them are very common. The big classic is, of course, sawing a lady in half. Horace Goldin and P.T. Selbit quarrelled over who invented it first in the early 1920s. But the illusion originates in the early nineteenth century. In the beginning, the assistant would be split in two parts inside a box. Goldin removed the box and used a massive circular saw. Loads of fake blood. Pretty tasteless, actually. There are also versions with two assistants who get cut in half and then swap their lower torsos, or the Janet box where they are split into nine parts rather than two, and then they are pulled apart. More or less like that cut-up horse by Damien Hirst, if you’ve seen it. But anyway, we can expect to see some version of the lady sawn in half.’
‘Anything else?’ said Julia.
She looked somewhat pale after his comparison with the cut-up horse.
‘Er, maybe the origami box? The assistant climbs into a box which is quickly folded up until it’s far too small to fit a person.’
‘That doesn’t necessarily sound like something that kills,’ said Christer, scratching Bosse behind the ears.
The dog had begun lapping up the spilled energy drink on the table.
‘The box ends up the size of your head,’ said Vincent. ‘And then you obviously stick swords through it.’
‘Stage illusions often seem to involve skewering women,’ said Julia. ‘Do all magicians really have dicks that small?’
Peder coughed into his can of energy drink as he took a gulp and Ruben’s face turned bright red. He opened his mouth and looked like he was about to defend the male species before shutting it again after a look from Julia.
