Chapter 29
The light is on in Daniel’s office when Anton walks into the station at four thirty in the afternoon. He was halfway to Duved when he decided to turn around. He couldn’t stop thinking about the young woman who had died; he can spend a couple more hours on the case before dinner.
He stamps the snow off his boots and knocks on Daniel’s door. His colleague is absorbed in his notes, pen in hand as he looks up.
“Haven’t you got anything better to do on a Sunday?”
“Apparently not,” Anton replies, sitting down in one of the visitors’ chairs.
All the offices in the station are more or less identical. They are equipped with a height-adjustable desk, a bookcase, and two armchairs upholstered in blue with a small table between them. Functional, but not very exciting.
On Daniel’s desk there is a photograph of Alice as a newborn.
Anton’s phone buzzes, and he glances at the display. It’s Carl—they are having dinner at his place tonight to celebrate their nine-month anniversary.
The thought of his boyfriend makes him smile.
“What was that?” Daniel asks.
Anton quickly slips his phone in his pocket; he doesn’t want to have to explain who Carl is.
“Nothing.” He points to the open notebook in front of Daniel. “Anything interesting?”
Daniel shrugs. “I’m trying to form a picture of the five friends. The group dynamic. If there’s something that doesn’t sound right. You know how it is—we have to look for things that don’t quite fit.”
He stretches his arms out in front of him, turns his head from side to side a few times until the tension in his neck eases.
“By the way, Hanna called. After we’d talked for a while, she seemed pretty convinced that we’re looking at a crime here.”
That sounds like Hanna in a nutshell. Anton knows what she’s like—always quick when it comes to both thinking and acting, even if she can be a little too quick sometimes.
He likes Hanna. He was the one who suggested they should offer her a post in ?re when she arrived just over two years ago.
At the time she was at a low ebb, damaged by her experiences in Stockholm. Now she is a key member of the team.
And her instinct as a police officer has never been wrong.
“Have you had time to carry out any searches?” Anton asks. “Has anyone appeared as a past suspect, or with a conviction?”
Daniel points to the screen. “That’s what I was just doing. So far there’s nothing on William, Olivia, or Amir, although it’s too soon to write them off at this stage.”
“How about Emil and Pontus?”
“I’ll take a look now.”
He types in a few numbers, then waits.
“Nothing on Pontus Englund either. I did a multiple search, and he’s as pure as the driven snow.”
Which leaves just one person.
“How about Emil?”
“It’s probably a long shot, but here goes.”
Anton leans back in the armchair as he waits. Then he sees Daniel’s expression change. “What is it?”
“Emil isn’t as innocent as he seems.”
Daniel turns the screen so that Anton can see.
“He has a conviction from the county court in Ume?—assault during his final year at high school.”
Anton lets out a low whistle. He’d gained a very positive impression when he interviewed Emil, but you can’t judge a book by its cover. “So what happened?”
Daniel skims through the text.
“The assault happened four years ago, shortly before Emil turned nineteen. It started with a quarrel at a restaurant in Ume? and ended with him headbutting one of the other customers.”
Not a minor scuffle, in other words.
“What was the sentence?” Anton asks.
“Let’s see . . . He received a suspended sentence and a fine, because he was so young and it was his first offense. Plus his family background was solid, which no doubt helped.”
Emil was lucky, Anton thinks. Assault usually carries a sentence of up to two years in jail.
Headbutting someone is not regarded as a minor offense, but in this case presumably the reduced sentence for a young person kicked in.
Sweden still has generous laws when it comes to young perpetrators, even if a growing number of voices are demanding more stringent punishments.
“He didn’t mention this when I spoke to him,” Anton says.
“No. Although surely he must have realized we’d find out. He can’t be dumb enough to think we’d miss it.”
Anton isn’t so sure. Sometimes people keep on hoping until the very last minute.
“The question is, what does it mean?” Daniel adds.
“Surely it’s very clear—Emil has a tendency toward violence. Or at least he’s proved himself capable of violence in previous situations,” Anton says. Then he softens his stance—he doesn’t want to jump to conclusions.
“I’m not saying we should accuse him of being behind Filippa’s death just because of a past conviction, but the likelihood of his being involved has definitely increased.”