Marked For Revenge

“So we have a picture of her?” Jana asked.

“Yes, not as clear a picture as I’d like, but I think it will help.”

Ola leaned forward across the table.

“You can see that she’s completely panicked,” he said. “I mean, she’s sprinting as fast as she can from the train. But what’s strange is that she stops, looks at something in the dark, hesitates and then speeds up.”

“As if she’s trying to find someone?” Henrik asked.

“Yes, as if she’s looking for someone,” Ola said. “And at the same time you see red brake lights, like a car is slowing down in front of her.”

“You think she jumped into a car,” Henrik said.

“Yes, someone was probably waiting at the station, waiting for her and her friend. And we need to find out who that someone is.”

“So the narcotics may have been destined for here, for Norrköping?” Jana asked.

“Well, that’s a reasonable possibility,” Henrik said. “We’ve seen signs that something is going on in the area when it comes to narcotics. Not least since Gavril Bolanaki disappeared.”

“You mean that the market has increased?”

“Yes.”

“Okay,” said Gunnar. “As you all understand, these women are just pawns in a much larger game...” He leaned forward with his hands on the table and looked at the team. “We need to find the woman who ran. She could be our key into this whole operation. If we find her, we have a good chance of finding who was controlling her.”

CHAPTER NINE

THE SOUND OF waves woke her up. Her head was pounding, and Pim blinked a few times to clear her eyes. She sat up on the thin mattress and noticed that she had been covered up by a blanket. Next to her was a bucket with no handle.

How long had she been sleeping?

She tried to open her mouth but couldn’t. Tape stretched from one cheek to the other. She wanted to rip it off, but her hands were bound behind her back with a coarse rope. She twisted and turned until she was breathless. Trying to take short quick breaths, she felt like she was going to suffocate.

She had felt like this before. Often, when they played, her little sister, Mai, had sat on her, held her hands tightly and yelled, Try to escape, Pim. Try to escape, if you can!

Then she had to fight to get free, to cast the weight off her chest. Mai had almost choked with laughter. It was just a game. But it wasn’t now.

No part of this was a game.

The room had no windows. It was small, with a wooden floor and ceiling. It was cold and damp.

She thought about Noi and began to cry. She should have stayed with her, shouldn’t have left her alone on the train.

She slowly pulled one leg up, shifted her weight onto her knees and sat up. Her eyes darted around the room, looking for a way out.

Where was she?

She had no idea.

And no one else had any idea that she was sitting there with her hands bound, her mouth taped shut, in a strange country.

Her legs shaking, she stumbled forward toward the wall, stood with her back to it and began feeling for something sharp.

Finally she found an uneven spot in the planks and immediately began to rub the rope against it. She pushed her back against the wall, up and down, to the sides, fighting and tearing to get the rope to break.

* * *

Jana Berzelius placed her notepad in her briefcase and left the conference room.

Outside the window, she saw snow falling heavily in the light gray darkness. She placed her hand on the shiny handrail and walked down the stairs from the third floor to the garage. The stairwell smelled like dust and Pine Sol. She stepped slowly, listening to the echo of her high heels and thinking about the investigation they had just begun. She was back to doing what gave her purpose—that meant something: a job, punctuality, achievement. She felt energetic and strong again. She wanted to focus on what lay ahead, on her future.

At that moment, her cell phone rang. She stopped, pulling it out of her pocket, but when she saw it was her colleague Per Åström she silenced it and put it away.

She had reached the first floor and was about to continue down the next flight when she stopped suddenly.

Through the glass door that led to the main entrance and reception area of the police station sat the thin, black-clad kid she had met the other evening at the entrance to Knäppingsborg.

Robin...Stenberg.

What was he doing here?

He sat with his elbows on his knees, one leg bobbing up and down with nervous energy.

She took a step forward, wanting to go into the reception area and talk to him, but a stronger impulse convinced her to instead leave the station.

Then Robin got up from the chair and was soon out of her field of vision.

She continued down the stairs, barely conscious of the fact that she was walking more quickly now that her thoughts were back at Knäppingsborg, seeing Robin’s slim body, the panicked look on his face, the stars tattooed on his temple and his worried voice saying that he had to call for help.

That he had witnessed her violent encounter with Danilo gave her an uneasy feeling.

She pushed open the door to the parking garage just as a police car swung out from a parking space and disappeared in the heavy snowfall, its lights flashing.

* * *

Henrik Levin pushed the gray button that opened the door to the Psychiatric Clinic at Vrinnevi Hospital. They had hoped that someone would soon come forward with information that would help them find the missing woman, and he realized now that he had the most faith in the train attendant, Mats Johansson.

Henrik shook hands with Mats’s doctor and exchanged a few words with him before being allowed into the patient’s room.

A woman was sitting on the bed, and he met her brown eyes. She drew her hand through her curly hair before standing and quietly introducing herself as Marianne.

“I’m Mats’s wife,” she added, taking Henrik’s jacket and hanging it carefully on a hook on the back of the door. As quietly as possible, she moved her chair closer to the bed, sat down and took her husband’s left hand in hers.

“Mats,” she whispered. “You have a visitor.”

Henrik stood on the other side of him and observed his angular face, the wide mustache, the thin hair and pale skin. Mats’s eyes moved under his closed eyelids.

“He’s been dreaming a lot,” Marianne said, smiling apologetically. “It’s horrible, of course, to witness such a thing...and on his train, too... He’s been rambling quite a bit.”

“What does he say?” Henrik asked.

“Mostly nonsense, actually.”

Marianne chuckled.

“I heard that,” Mats said, opening his eyes. He lifted himself up on one elbow with a great deal of effort and looked at Henrik.

“Hi,” Henrik said, putting his hand out. “I’m Detective Chief Inspector Henrik Levin. I need to talk with you, ask a few questions.”

“Okay,” Mats said, weakly shaking Henrik’s hand.

“As I understand it, you found the woman in the train bathroom.”

Mats nodded.

“Yes, I found her. She was lying in there...on the floor.”

“Can you tell me anything else about it?”

Mats bit his upper lip.

Henrik took the close-up picture from the security camera out of his pocket.

“I’m going to show you a photo now, and I want you to look at it very carefully.”

Mats sat up and looked at the photograph for a long time—at the black hair, the narrow eyes, the pale skin.

“Do you recognize this woman?” Henrik asked. “This isn’t the one you found in the bathroom.”

Mats nodded.

“This is the girl who was standing outside the door, who ran away when I opened it. I couldn’t stop her. I wanted to, but I couldn’t. I had to stay with the girl in the bathroom. Noi, her name was.”

“Noi? You mean Siriporn? The girl who died?”

“No...” Mats looked confusedly at him. “I mean Noi.”

Henrik cast a glance at Marianne.

“Think carefully, Mats,” his wife said.

“Was her name Noi?” Henrik asked.

“I don’t know.” Mats sighed. “But that’s what she said, the other one, the one who ran away. When I came down the aisle, I saw her standing there, banging on the bathroom door. She was yelling ‘Noi’ again and again. I assumed that was the girl’s name. And when I had opened the door, she ran away. I called out to her to stop, but she didn’t.”

Henrik thought for a moment.

“Where were they while the train was moving?”

Mats rubbed his eyes and raked a hand through his hair. He seemed tired now, weary of thinking, of remembering. He took a deep breath before he answered.

“Both were in Car 5, but they weren’t sitting together. They were each in their own seat, one in front of the other, if that makes sense. There were plenty of open seats. The train wasn’t full.”

“How were they acting?”

Mats wrinkled his forehead as if he didn’t understand the question.

“Were they nervous, uneasy, sullen, angry?”

“No, they mostly just slept.”

“Where did they get on the train?”

Mats lay down with his head on the pillow and looked at the ceiling.

“They got on at the start, in Copenhagen.”

“And they were heading for...?”

“Norrköping. That’s why she screamed...why I needed to open the door. They were supposed to get off.”

Mats paused, closed his eyes. Marianne stroked his cheek in an attempt to comfort him, but he turned his face away.

“I’ll leave you to rest now,” Henrik said. “Thank you for seeing me.”

Marianne nodded in response.

Henrik met her gaze and saw that she was holding her husband’s left hand in both of hers.

* * *

“So Anders is still in town?”

Gunnar Öhrn glared at Carin Radler, who was sitting in a visitor’s chair in his office.

“Yes, and the next time you call a meeting, it’d be best if you let him know,” she said, crossing one leg over the other. She bounced one high-heeled foot up and down.

“Or he’ll make sure he’s here in the building,” Gunnar said.

“Which he’s doing anyway after he’s gotten settled in the hotel.”

“Is it certain that he’s staying here?”

“Considering that we have just had a case of narcotics smuggling fall into our laps, yes.”

“He’s not going to give up?”

“Anders has fought for many years to stop narcotics trafficking. It’s thanks to his efforts that we’ve been able to arrest multiple central figures who control the different narcotics markets in Sweden. Just last spring, coordinated raids flushed out a huge gang in Gothenburg. Anders had comprehensive responsibility for the whole operation, and long prison sentences are waiting for those who were arrested.”

“Yes, I’d heard that he got to show off in the newspapers.”

Carin raised her voice.

“His war against drugs has given results, Gunnar!”

“And now he wants to do the job for us?”

“No, but he is extremely competent when it comes to questions of narcotics, which we can naturally benefit from.”

Gunnar sneered. “So we’re supposed to be best friends now?”

“You know that he’s working hard for the new Police Authority, and I am, too.”

“I understand your new role, but his?”

“He is running to be the National Police Commissioner, as I think you are well aware.”

“So he’s looking for more power, you mean.” Gunnar rubbed his eyes.

Carin uncrossed and recrossed her legs, answering in a calm voice. “I know that you don’t like him. But he is actually a good boss. Just like you.”

“Cut the flattery. You and I both know that I may not be here long.”

Carin sighed. “The problem with this reorganization is that we’re faced with completely new, maybe even unforeseen, challenges, and that will require a lot from everyone.”

“So who’s to stay?”

“I can’t answer that right now.”

“Because you don’t know?”

“I understand you’re worried.”

“I’m not one bit worried. But my colleagues are worried, and I don’t know what I’m supposed to tell them.”

“Tell them that we have a narcotics case that we have to solve. That’s where our focus should be right now.”

“In cooperation with Anders,” Gunnar said with a sigh.

“Yes, in cooperation with Anders,” Carin replied.

* * *

Mia Bolander came into the police station cafeteria, took a pear from the fruit bowl and stuffed two more into her pockets. It was really too many, but she knew she couldn’t put them back once she turned around and caught sight of Henrik Levin and Ola Söderström. She rubbed the pear on her knit cardigan and sat down across from them.

Henrik removed the blue lid from his glass container, the steam from the red curry stew warming his face.

“That’s a small lunch,” Mia said.

“There wasn’t much left after dinner last night.”

“What, did Emma eat everything?”

“She’s pregnant, you know.”

“When’s she due?”

“December 31.”

“She’ll have to keep her legs crossed tight for the baby’s sake. It’s no fun to have your birthday on the last day of the year, because then you’re the last to get your driver’s license or get into bars.”

“No, it’s...”

“And you have to ask your buddies to buy drinks for you.”

“Right, of course.” Henrik sighed. “But the main thing is that the baby is healthy.”

“Everyone says that. The main thing is that the baby is healthy and has ten fingers and ten toes and develops a little faster than all the other kids. Just imagine how it is for people who have ugly babies. I mean, really ugly, not just the normal ugly.”

“What do you mean, people? You mean, what if I have an ugly baby?”

“I wasn’t talking about you.”

“But I’m the one who’s going to have a baby.”

“Take it however you want.”

Mia examined her pear.

“If we’re being honest, though?”

“But aren’t all babies cute?” Henrik asked.

“Parents say so, yes. But have you ever heard someone say, ‘Oh, what an ugly baby’?”

“No, because there’s no such thing as an ugly baby.”

“No, it’s because no one would dare to say so. But everyone has thought it at one time or another.”

“But not everyone thinks that babies are ugly!” Henrik protested.

“Haven’t you ever thought it?” Mia asked.

“No. Never.”

“See, it’s because you’re a father. If you weren’t, you would have. You agree with me, don’t you, Ola?”

Ola held his hand up. “No comment.” He wasn’t going to join in Mia’s fun.

“Wimp. You agree with me,” Mia said.

“I don’t even know what you’re talking about,” Ola said.

They all fell quiet. Ola broke the silence. “Going back to our previous conversation, Henrik, did that train attendant actually have anything to say?”

Henrik didn’t have a chance to answer before Gunnar Öhrn came into the cafeteria and interrupted them.

“Mia!” he barked.

“Yes?” she said, turning around.

“I want to talk to you.”

“Is that an order?”

“Yes. It’s important. In my office in five minutes.”

Mia sighed and took a bite of the pear.

* * *

Gunnar sat in his office and knew that as soon as he had given Mia the assignment, he should let Anders Wester know that a new witness had turned up at the train station. But it was hard.

He fiddled with his phone and pulled out Anders’s number. It still felt unnatural having the National Crime Squad looking over his shoulder, as if their department had suddenly become a class of special needs kids with Anders Wester as their “normal” peer mentor.

He knew that if she could hear his thoughts, Anneli would say, Knock it off! You’re being childish!

He began to type in Anders’s phone number, but when he came to the last digit, he changed his mind and deleted it. He had absolutely no desire to talk to Anders, or to have anything at all to do with him, really.

Just then, someone knocked on his door. Mia stuck her head in. “You wanted something?”

Gunnar rubbed his hands over his face several times.

“Sit down,” he said, pointing at the chair in front of him.

“What is it?” she said, sitting down.

“I just want you to interview a witness who was in the parking lot yesterday when the train with the dead woman rolled into the station. He says he saw a man. Find out what he saw. His name is Stefan Ohlin.”

“Sure, sure, sure.”

Gunnar took a deep breath.

“And one more thing.”

“What is it?”

“Your attitude is a little, well, how should I say this. It’s too much.”

“Are you going to fire me or what?” Mia crossed her arms over her chest.

“No, I’m not going to fire you. But...you’re sucking energy out of the group with your attitude, and I want you to get it together.”

“Okay. I should shut up, you mean?”

“That’s exactly the attitude I’m talking about.”

“What do you mean? I’m just saying what I think.”

“Well, stop doing that, then. Keep your opinions to yourself and focus on doing a good job instead!”

Mia didn’t answer, just pursed her lips.

“This is how it’s going to be,” Gunnar said. “We have the National Crime Squad looking over our shoulders, and I want you to help me live up to their expectations. We can’t give them any reason to question our work.”

“Sure,” Mia said, nodding slowly.

“Good. So then, I want you to start by interviewing this Stefan guy. Here’s his number. He’s a teacher at Vittra School in Röda Stan, the neighborhood with all the red houses, and wants us to meet him there.”

“Henrik and I will go...”

“You go by yourself.”

“Okay. I’ll leave right away.”

Mia got up and walked toward the door.

“And, Mia...”

Gunnar looked at her with a frown.

“Yes?”

“Show me what you’ve got. Please?”

“I will,” Mia said with a wide, bright smile.

She looked happy, Gunnar thought. Way too happy.

Then he understood.

She had been telling him to go to hell.

With her smile.

* * *

Jana Berzelius did not seem to be in any hurry when she entered the Public Prosecution Office on Olai Kyrkogata 50, in the middle of downtown Norrköping. But in reality she was in a terrible state. She didn’t know how to handle the fact that she had seen the skinny kid Robin Stenberg at the police station. Hadn’t he understood that she was serious? The last thing she wanted was for the police to get involved.

She put her briefcase on the floor and stood behind the desk in her office without sitting down. She didn’t want to sit; she just wanted to stand, wanted to escape the unpleasant feeling that Robin Stenberg was about to do something at the police station that wouldn’t turn out well for her.

It was quiet on her floor. The only thing she could hear through the glass wall was a colleague’s steps and the electronic hum of a printer spitting out copies of a report, a court order or some other document that was hundreds of pages long.

A photograph hung on one wall of her office. It showed a family standing on the steps of a large yellow summerhouse. Jana looked at the girl’s eyes, meeting the gaze of herself as a nine-year-old girl, and remembered that day. The sky had been clear and the air dry and warm.

The sunshine had made the house stunningly gorgeous. Her mother always said that you couldn’t imagine a more beautiful place. They had driven from Norrköping to Arkösund, walked down to the cliffs and looked over the sea.

Then it had been time for the family picture. The three of them, together. She’d been wearing a white dress and had stood unmoving on the stone steps in front of the house, her mother and father standing next to her. Her mother had stood still while her father stamped his feet impatiently, his voice stern, as always.

“Hurry up!”

“Just one last adjustment.”

The photographer waved his hand, signaling that they should move closer to each other.

“Now smile, all of you! One, two, three.”

Click.

“I want all of you to smile at the same time. One more time. One, two three.”

Click.

“Are you happy now?” Karl asked.

“No, one more. Now we’re smiling, come on now, little girl, you, too—give me the prettiest smile you can.”

But she didn’t smile.

“Let’s try again!”

“Wait!” her father said, turning toward her. “Why won’t you smile, Jana?”

She didn’t answer.

“If you smile,” he said, “I’ll buy you a toy. Would you like that?”

She looked at the ground, feeling unsure of herself. His voice was suddenly soft, his face so kind.

“What do you say?” he asked.

“What kind of toy?” she asked.

“Whatever you want.”

“Really?”

“If you smile.”

She had a strange feeling in her stomach. She thought that a smile would buy her what she wanted most of all in the whole world—a doll to hold tight at night, so she wouldn’t feel so alone.

A doll, for a smile.

The photographer signaled again.

“Okay!” he yelled. “Now then. One, two, three!”

She smiled.

Click.

“There we go! That’s it.”

She had sat expectantly in the car on the way home. As they approached downtown, she couldn’t keep it in any longer.

“Are we going shopping now?” she asked.

But her father had kept his eyes straight ahead the whole time.

“No,” he said.

“But we were going to buy a doll...”

“I don’t have time right now.”

“You promised,” she said quietly.

“I didn’t promise it would be today.”

She had tried to catch his eye but couldn’t. Then she understood. His voice had been soft.

She had felt a small shudder pass through her body. She had been afraid that he would notice, afraid that he would see that she had learned how to tell when something was wrong. When something was terribly wrong.

Jana moved her gaze from the photograph to the window. Her hands were clenched into fists. That day, as a nine-year-old in the car on the way home from their summerhouse, she had learned not to trust anyone. If she wanted something, she had to rely on herself. There was no one else to do it for her. She couldn’t leave anything to chance.

If she wanted to stop the gnawing sense of uneasiness in her body, she would have to find Robin Stenberg. Tonight.

CHAPTER TEN

MIA BOLANDER PARKED outside Vittra School and walked through the gate into the schoolyard. She was met by happy cries, running children and flying snowballs.

Three little girls with their hats pulled down over their foreheads came running toward her. Their cheeks were red from the cold and snot was running down the upper lips of all three.

“Who are you?” they said in chorus.

“I’m Mia.”

“Why are you here?”

“I’m meeting someone.”

“Who?”

“A man who works here at the school.”

“What’s his name?”

“I can’t say.”

“Why not?”

“Because it’s a secret.”

“Why is it a secret?”

“Because it is. I need to know how to get to the third grade classroom.”

“The yellow group is over there.”

One of the girls pointed with her mitten toward one of the entrances.

Mia stepped inside and was met by the smell of the damp outerwear that hung lined up on hooks in the hallway. The floor was wet with melted snow. A hand-written sign instructed everyone to take off their shoes in the cloakroom. Mia ignored the sign, walked forward, turned to the right and took the stairs to the second floor.

She walked through the lounge, looking for the right classroom, and finally found it all the way down the hall.

The class was empty except for a man, a few years older than herself, who was standing in front of a whiteboard writing the day’s lesson. She knocked on the door frame and walked in. She noticed the map of Sweden, the calendar and the colorful alphabet on the walls.