an accident … but the boat never sank.
Either the killer was interrupted or he left the scene of the crime intending to return and complete his assignment. He must never have intended that the Coast Guard would find the boat adrift with the drowned girl on board. Something had gone wrong or the plans had to be drastically changed. Maybe he was given new orders. At any event, a day and a half after killing Viola, he was here in Penelope’s apartment.
You must have had a strong reason to come here. What was your motive behind this major risk? Is there something here that connects you or your client to Penelope?
You did something here. You got rid of fingerprints or you erased a hard drive or destroyed an answering machine or you came to get something.
That’s what you wanted, but then I showed up and wrecked your plan.
Or maybe your plan was to destroy something in the fire? That’s a possibility , Joona thinks.
Joona wishes he had Erixson with him now. He needs a forensic technician; he doesn’t have the right tools and might even destroy evidence if he searched the apartment on his own. He could contaminate DNA or miss invisible evidence.
Joona walks to the window and looks down at the street. He sees empty tables by a sandwich café.
He really must head back to the police station and talk to his boss, Carlos Eliasson. He must ask to be assigned as the leader of the investigation and call in another forensic technician now that Erixson will be on sick leave.
Joona’s telephone rings just as he’s made the decision to play by the rules and go talk to both Carlos and Jens Svanehjälm and put together an investigative group.
“Hi, Anja,” he says.
“I want to go to the sauna with you,” Anja says.
“Why the sauna?”
“Well, why not? Can’t we take a sauna together? You could show me how real Finns use the sauna.”
“Anja,” he replies slowly, “I’ve lived almost my entire life in Stockholm.”
Joona starts walking through the hallway to the outer door.
“I know, I know. You’re a Swede with Finnish heritage. How boring is that? Why couldn’t you be from El Salvador? Have you read any of Penelope Fernandez’s opinion essays in the newspaper? You should see her—the other day she scolded the entire Swedish weapons export industry on television!”
Joona can hear Anja’s light breaths in the receiver as he leaves Penelope Fernandez’s apartment. There are bloody marks on the stair from the ambulance crew’s shoes. A shiver runs down his back as he remembers his colleague sitting there, legs splayed, as the color drained from his face.
Joona believes the hit man is still under the impression he killed Penelope Fernandez, so he thinks that part of his contract is done. The other half was to get into the apartment for some reason. When the killer figures out Penelope’s still alive, he’ll be back on the hunt in a hurry.
“Björn and Penelope were not living together,” Anja is saying.
“I figured that out,” he replies.
“Even so, they could still be in love—just like you and me.”
Joona walks into strong sunshine. The air has grown heavier and even more humid.
“Can you give me Björn’s address?”
He hears Anja’s fingers fly over the keyboard. Small clicking sounds.
“Almskog, Pontonjärgatan 47, third floor.”
“I’ll go there before I—”
“Wait a second!” Anja said. “Not possible. Listen to this … I’ve just cross-checked this address … there was a fire in the building on Friday.”
“Björn’s apartment?”
Anja replies, “Everything on that floor is gone.”
19
a wavy landscape of ashes
Detective Inspector Joona Linna walks up the stairs, then stops and stands still, looking into a completely black room. The acrid stench is sharp. Not much of the inner, non-weight-bearing wall is left. Black stalactites hang from the ceiling. Charcoaled stumps of shelves stick up among a wavy landscape of ashes. In several places there are
Either the killer was interrupted or he left the scene of the crime intending to return and complete his assignment. He must never have intended that the Coast Guard would find the boat adrift with the drowned girl on board. Something had gone wrong or the plans had to be drastically changed. Maybe he was given new orders. At any event, a day and a half after killing Viola, he was here in Penelope’s apartment.
You must have had a strong reason to come here. What was your motive behind this major risk? Is there something here that connects you or your client to Penelope?
You did something here. You got rid of fingerprints or you erased a hard drive or destroyed an answering machine or you came to get something.
That’s what you wanted, but then I showed up and wrecked your plan.
Or maybe your plan was to destroy something in the fire? That’s a possibility , Joona thinks.
Joona wishes he had Erixson with him now. He needs a forensic technician; he doesn’t have the right tools and might even destroy evidence if he searched the apartment on his own. He could contaminate DNA or miss invisible evidence.
Joona walks to the window and looks down at the street. He sees empty tables by a sandwich café.
He really must head back to the police station and talk to his boss, Carlos Eliasson. He must ask to be assigned as the leader of the investigation and call in another forensic technician now that Erixson will be on sick leave.
Joona’s telephone rings just as he’s made the decision to play by the rules and go talk to both Carlos and Jens Svanehjälm and put together an investigative group.
“Hi, Anja,” he says.
“I want to go to the sauna with you,” Anja says.
“Why the sauna?”
“Well, why not? Can’t we take a sauna together? You could show me how real Finns use the sauna.”
“Anja,” he replies slowly, “I’ve lived almost my entire life in Stockholm.”
Joona starts walking through the hallway to the outer door.
“I know, I know. You’re a Swede with Finnish heritage. How boring is that? Why couldn’t you be from El Salvador? Have you read any of Penelope Fernandez’s opinion essays in the newspaper? You should see her—the other day she scolded the entire Swedish weapons export industry on television!”
Joona can hear Anja’s light breaths in the receiver as he leaves Penelope Fernandez’s apartment. There are bloody marks on the stair from the ambulance crew’s shoes. A shiver runs down his back as he remembers his colleague sitting there, legs splayed, as the color drained from his face.
Joona believes the hit man is still under the impression he killed Penelope Fernandez, so he thinks that part of his contract is done. The other half was to get into the apartment for some reason. When the killer figures out Penelope’s still alive, he’ll be back on the hunt in a hurry.
“Björn and Penelope were not living together,” Anja is saying.
“I figured that out,” he replies.
“Even so, they could still be in love—just like you and me.”
Joona walks into strong sunshine. The air has grown heavier and even more humid.
“Can you give me Björn’s address?”
He hears Anja’s fingers fly over the keyboard. Small clicking sounds.
“Almskog, Pontonjärgatan 47, third floor.”
“I’ll go there before I—”
“Wait a second!” Anja said. “Not possible. Listen to this … I’ve just cross-checked this address … there was a fire in the building on Friday.”
“Björn’s apartment?”
Anja replies, “Everything on that floor is gone.”
19
a wavy landscape of ashes
Detective Inspector Joona Linna walks up the stairs, then stops and stands still, looking into a completely black room. The acrid stench is sharp. Not much of the inner, non-weight-bearing wall is left. Black stalactites hang from the ceiling. Charcoaled stumps of shelves stick up among a wavy landscape of ashes. In several places there are
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