Meet me in Malmö: The first Inspector Anita Sundström mystery (Inspector Anita Sundström mysteries) by Torquil MacLeod
Authors: Torquil MacLeod
Tags: Mystery & Detective, Police Procedural, Crime thriller, murder mystery, Scandinavian crime, detective crime, Swedish crime, international crime, female detectives
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was it.’
‘Mmmm,’ murmured Moberg sceptically. ‘Keep an open mind on that one. What about anybody who might want to harm Lovgren – or people she didn’t get on with?
‘The only person she mentioned was a guy called Bengt Valquist. He’s Roslyn’s film producer.’
‘He came in here with Roslyn when we had that chat,’ said Anita.
Moberg frowned at the memory. ‘What about Valquist?’
‘Not much. Malin didn’t think much of him. Too highly strung, apparently. She always referred to him as “Mick’s poodle”.’
‘All right. What about Roslyn?’
Westermark perked up. ‘He was booked on the first flight down to Sturup on Tuesday morning. But there is less good news about Jörgen Crabo. Our Stockholm colleagues went to his home and discovered he wasn’t there.’
‘Shit!’ exclaimed Moberg.
‘Hasn’t been seen for three days. Neighbours don’t know where he is.’
‘I hope they’re going to keep looking.’
‘Oh, yes,’ Westermark said smugly. ‘Once they found out that Malin Lovgren was dead they were crapping themselves. They’ll find him.’
‘Unless he’s down here.’ Anita’s reasoning wasn’t greeted with any enthusiasm.
‘So, we can’t rule him out. Get hold of his photo and have it distributed. Now, Henrik, what about H?’
‘I’ve got people trawling through the CCTV footage but that’s going to take time. But without the letters or any clue as to his identity, we’ve nothing to go on.’ He paused and consulted his notebook again. ‘One thing though. I mentioned to Ebba Carlsson about the letters from this H character, but she said that Lovgren hadn’t told her about them. However, she did say that Lovgren had mentioned that she felt she was being followed. Not regularly; just occasionally. One incident specifically. As she was punching in her code to get into her apartment block, she was aware of someone standing behind her. Then, when she turned round, the person was gone. Spooked her.’
‘No description?’ Nordlund shook his head. ‘Well, it might be H. Keep digging. But quickly. Anita, I want you to talk to the journalist again. Find out for definite the position of the body when he entered the living room.’
‘He’s coming in at three to give a statement. I’ll catch him then.’
‘And we need to speak to Roslyn again. I want to be in on that. He could well be the key.’
‘I’m just off to speak to Lovgren’s mother,’ said Anita. ‘If anybody’s going to come out with the truth about Roslyn, it’s a mother-in-law.’
CHAPTER 12
He had been flicking between the TV channels. He had all that morning’s newspapers strewn around the floor. All the media were full of Malin Lovgren’s murder. The great and the good, the celebrities and the non-entities all came out to say what a wonderful person and creative talent Malin Lovgren had been. What a loss, they intoned gravely. Some even managed tears. Where the reports were sketchy, everybody seemed to have an opinion. After asking how could this happen in Sweden it turned to the theme of Sweden going to the dogs. Where were our traditional values? Nowhere was safe any more. At least Prime Minister Olof Palme and Foreign Minister Anna Lindh had been killed in public places, but this was in the actress’s own home. The unspoken implication was that the influx of foreign refugees lay at the heart of this national disintegration. After all, hadn’t Anna Lindh been stabbed in the Stockholm department store by Mijailo Mijailović, a Swedish-born Serb.
What had alarmed him was when the Chief Inspector had come on the TV for his press conference. Though he was keeping police findings close to his chest – either that or they had no idea as to who had done it – the large man had mentioned that they were going through CCTV from the Värnhems torget area. He cursed to himself. That was so stupid of him. He tried to think back to his movements on the night. Where were the cameras?
‘Mmmm,’ murmured Moberg sceptically. ‘Keep an open mind on that one. What about anybody who might want to harm Lovgren – or people she didn’t get on with?
‘The only person she mentioned was a guy called Bengt Valquist. He’s Roslyn’s film producer.’
‘He came in here with Roslyn when we had that chat,’ said Anita.
Moberg frowned at the memory. ‘What about Valquist?’
‘Not much. Malin didn’t think much of him. Too highly strung, apparently. She always referred to him as “Mick’s poodle”.’
‘All right. What about Roslyn?’
Westermark perked up. ‘He was booked on the first flight down to Sturup on Tuesday morning. But there is less good news about Jörgen Crabo. Our Stockholm colleagues went to his home and discovered he wasn’t there.’
‘Shit!’ exclaimed Moberg.
‘Hasn’t been seen for three days. Neighbours don’t know where he is.’
‘I hope they’re going to keep looking.’
‘Oh, yes,’ Westermark said smugly. ‘Once they found out that Malin Lovgren was dead they were crapping themselves. They’ll find him.’
‘Unless he’s down here.’ Anita’s reasoning wasn’t greeted with any enthusiasm.
‘So, we can’t rule him out. Get hold of his photo and have it distributed. Now, Henrik, what about H?’
‘I’ve got people trawling through the CCTV footage but that’s going to take time. But without the letters or any clue as to his identity, we’ve nothing to go on.’ He paused and consulted his notebook again. ‘One thing though. I mentioned to Ebba Carlsson about the letters from this H character, but she said that Lovgren hadn’t told her about them. However, she did say that Lovgren had mentioned that she felt she was being followed. Not regularly; just occasionally. One incident specifically. As she was punching in her code to get into her apartment block, she was aware of someone standing behind her. Then, when she turned round, the person was gone. Spooked her.’
‘No description?’ Nordlund shook his head. ‘Well, it might be H. Keep digging. But quickly. Anita, I want you to talk to the journalist again. Find out for definite the position of the body when he entered the living room.’
‘He’s coming in at three to give a statement. I’ll catch him then.’
‘And we need to speak to Roslyn again. I want to be in on that. He could well be the key.’
‘I’m just off to speak to Lovgren’s mother,’ said Anita. ‘If anybody’s going to come out with the truth about Roslyn, it’s a mother-in-law.’
CHAPTER 12
He had been flicking between the TV channels. He had all that morning’s newspapers strewn around the floor. All the media were full of Malin Lovgren’s murder. The great and the good, the celebrities and the non-entities all came out to say what a wonderful person and creative talent Malin Lovgren had been. What a loss, they intoned gravely. Some even managed tears. Where the reports were sketchy, everybody seemed to have an opinion. After asking how could this happen in Sweden it turned to the theme of Sweden going to the dogs. Where were our traditional values? Nowhere was safe any more. At least Prime Minister Olof Palme and Foreign Minister Anna Lindh had been killed in public places, but this was in the actress’s own home. The unspoken implication was that the influx of foreign refugees lay at the heart of this national disintegration. After all, hadn’t Anna Lindh been stabbed in the Stockholm department store by Mijailo Mijailović, a Swedish-born Serb.
What had alarmed him was when the Chief Inspector had come on the TV for his press conference. Though he was keeping police findings close to his chest – either that or they had no idea as to who had done it – the large man had mentioned that they were going through CCTV from the Värnhems torget area. He cursed to himself. That was so stupid of him. He tried to think back to his movements on the night. Where were the cameras?
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