punishment or a reward. My name is Paul Hjelm, and I’m from the Huddinge police. I’m sure you haven’t missed the charming photograph from my youth that’s been plastered all over the media the past few days.”
Quite a decent response, considering the circumstances
, he thought, though he was sweating so much afterward that he missed part of the next introduction.
The man on his left looked very Finnish. He appeared to be several years older than Hjelm, who immediately thought about Martti Vainio, the famed long-distance runner from Finland who had ended up testing positive for drugs and then became a conservative politician. The man’s accent was minimal but still noticeable, compared to Chavez’s complete lack of accent.
“Arto Söderstedt, your typical Finnish buffoon,” he said laconically. “Flown here from Västerås early this morning in the NCP boss’s private jet.”
Then there was only one man remaining, a huge guy wearing slovenly clothes, muscular but also with the rolls of fat often left by anabolic steroids when not combined with regular workouts. Hjelm tried not to draw any conclusions based on this initial observation.
“I’m Gunnar Nyberg from the Nacka police,” he said. They waited to hear something more, but nothing came.
Hultin took the floor again. “We have five offices at your disposal: my office, this—what should we call it?—conferenceroom, where we’ll have our meetings. And three other offices. That means you’ll have to share rooms, so you’re going to be working in teams of two for a while. That’s nothing new. I suggest the following pairs: Norlander and Söderstedt in room 302; Holm and Nyberg in room 303; Hjelm and Chavez in room 304. In each office you’ll find two desks, two phones, an intercom, two cell phones, and a fully equipped computer system. You’ll find me hunkered down in room 301, and this is of course room 300. On each desk you’ll find a file folder with a complete rundown of the case. With these administrative details now out of the way, I’ll ask Norlander to present a summary of what’s far more important, meaning the details relating to the police investigation. I’ll hand out your work assignments afterward. It’s all yours, Viggo.”
Norlander got up and perched on the edge of the table next to Hultin. He took a colored marker from the whiteboard behind him and fidgeted with it as he talked.
“There won’t be a scrap of technical evidence to go on. The perp didn’t leave a single clue, not even a strand of hair. The very lack of evidence has led us to believe that we’re dealing with some sort of professional. So we can leave the technical reports until later. An ordinary nine-millimeter weapon. But big firepower. The bullets passed right through the skulls of the victims and were afterward plucked out with some type of pliers. In both cases, the perp was sitting in the living room when the victim arrived home, and he fired the shots from that position. Even though in both instances the victim had a wife, it seems as if the perp
knew
that the victim would be coming home alone and also that he would arrive late in the evening. I’ll make a sketch of both living rooms so you can get an idea of the similarity of the modus operandi.”
Norlander drew two blue rectangles on the whiteboard and then filled them in with a number of smaller squares and rectangles.Then he drew a short line that stretched diagonally from the same side of both rectangles.
“That’s the living room door,” he explained. “As you can see, both rooms are basically square-shaped. The arrangement of the furniture and the layout are practically identical. It was here, on the sofa along this wall farthest from the door, that the perp was sitting. He waited until the victim moved slightly to one side so that the slugs would end up in the wall and not go flying off to some unknown fate outside the door. Then he fired two shots through the victim’s
Quite a decent response, considering the circumstances
, he thought, though he was sweating so much afterward that he missed part of the next introduction.
The man on his left looked very Finnish. He appeared to be several years older than Hjelm, who immediately thought about Martti Vainio, the famed long-distance runner from Finland who had ended up testing positive for drugs and then became a conservative politician. The man’s accent was minimal but still noticeable, compared to Chavez’s complete lack of accent.
“Arto Söderstedt, your typical Finnish buffoon,” he said laconically. “Flown here from Västerås early this morning in the NCP boss’s private jet.”
Then there was only one man remaining, a huge guy wearing slovenly clothes, muscular but also with the rolls of fat often left by anabolic steroids when not combined with regular workouts. Hjelm tried not to draw any conclusions based on this initial observation.
“I’m Gunnar Nyberg from the Nacka police,” he said. They waited to hear something more, but nothing came.
Hultin took the floor again. “We have five offices at your disposal: my office, this—what should we call it?—conferenceroom, where we’ll have our meetings. And three other offices. That means you’ll have to share rooms, so you’re going to be working in teams of two for a while. That’s nothing new. I suggest the following pairs: Norlander and Söderstedt in room 302; Holm and Nyberg in room 303; Hjelm and Chavez in room 304. In each office you’ll find two desks, two phones, an intercom, two cell phones, and a fully equipped computer system. You’ll find me hunkered down in room 301, and this is of course room 300. On each desk you’ll find a file folder with a complete rundown of the case. With these administrative details now out of the way, I’ll ask Norlander to present a summary of what’s far more important, meaning the details relating to the police investigation. I’ll hand out your work assignments afterward. It’s all yours, Viggo.”
Norlander got up and perched on the edge of the table next to Hultin. He took a colored marker from the whiteboard behind him and fidgeted with it as he talked.
“There won’t be a scrap of technical evidence to go on. The perp didn’t leave a single clue, not even a strand of hair. The very lack of evidence has led us to believe that we’re dealing with some sort of professional. So we can leave the technical reports until later. An ordinary nine-millimeter weapon. But big firepower. The bullets passed right through the skulls of the victims and were afterward plucked out with some type of pliers. In both cases, the perp was sitting in the living room when the victim arrived home, and he fired the shots from that position. Even though in both instances the victim had a wife, it seems as if the perp
knew
that the victim would be coming home alone and also that he would arrive late in the evening. I’ll make a sketch of both living rooms so you can get an idea of the similarity of the modus operandi.”
Norlander drew two blue rectangles on the whiteboard and then filled them in with a number of smaller squares and rectangles.Then he drew a short line that stretched diagonally from the same side of both rectangles.
“That’s the living room door,” he explained. “As you can see, both rooms are basically square-shaped. The arrangement of the furniture and the layout are practically identical. It was here, on the sofa along this wall farthest from the door, that the perp was sitting. He waited until the victim moved slightly to one side so that the slugs would end up in the wall and not go flying off to some unknown fate outside the door. Then he fired two shots through the victim’s
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