Watching You(5)

Allan’s gaze moved down Berger’s right arm. His hands were hidden by the edge of the desk. Allan shook his head. ‘We’re awaiting DNA results in both instances, but we don’t actually need it. In either case.’

‘She’s fifteen years old,’ Berger said, trying not to raise his voice. ‘She’s fifteen years old, and she was down there for nearly three weeks. In a dark, stinking fucking cell with a bucket to shit in and only the occasional appearance of a lunatic for company. She lost plenty of blood. Am I really the only person thinking of the devil? And this devil isn’t some naive first-timer, he’s done this before. Probably plenty of times.’

‘But that’s not an argument, Sam. Evidence is an argument.’

‘Evidence doesn’t just pop into your head,’ Berger said. ‘You gather evidence by not ignoring clues, by following up unproven leads. You trust your gut feeling, have faith in experience. In the end the clues turn into evidence. Allan, for God’s sake, are we just going to sit and wait for evidence, is that your vision of police work?’

‘How come you didn’t know the layout?’

‘What?’

‘You didn’t know that there was a cellar. How come?’

‘The lead cropped up very suddenly, you know that. I asked you to pull together a rapid response team. Ellen shouldn’t have to wait a minute longer than necessary.’

‘Imagine if she had been sitting there, then,’ Allan said. ‘With the correct plans you could have broken into the cellar right away. Then you might have stood a chance of rescuing her. If she and the perpetrator had been there and everything unfolded the way it did, you would probably have killed her. By being so slow and underprepared. By being so fucking amateur.’

Berger looked at Allan. For the first time he was inclined to think he was right. And that bothered him. Allan would definitely have been right – if events had taken that turn. It would have been amateurish.

‘He gave us an invitation,’ he eventually muttered.

‘What are you on about now?’ Allan sighed.

‘Look at it in hindsight. A new witness all of a sudden, after almost three weeks. An address on the outskirts of M?rsta, close to the forest, where someone had caught a glimpse of a young girl at the home of a bachelor no one knew. So those of us on duty had to act fast. And a lot of options weren’t available to us because it’s Sunday. The local council in M?rsta failed, for instance – and in spite of my repeated efforts to encourage them – to find any plan of the building. The first thing we find when we get there is a mechanism – yes, a booby trap – which is far more subtle than anything you could have imagined. That’s fair, isn’t it, Allan?’

‘Knife blades in the bicep. I have imagined it.’

‘Two points. One: it was aimed at police officers, specifically at police officers wearing protective vests – the mechanism was aimed at the side of the vest. Two: not at head height. It wasn’t intended to be fatal, it was intended to mock us. Tough officers rolling around on the floor terrified out of their wits. And everything was set up perfectly. Our man seems to like precision.’

‘I don’t believe you’ve asked how Ekman is.’

‘Ekman?’ Berger exclaimed.

‘The officer who ended up with knives in his arms.’

‘How is he?’

‘Don’t know. Go on.’

‘The booby trap is the bow on a big parcel. A parcel with several layers, like pass the parcel. After the ribbon we have to get through the first layer, the hidden hatch in the kitchen floor. Then down into that labyrinth of a cellar. Then there’s another parcel to unwrap: breaking through the wall. Only when we’ve untied the bow and opened two parcels does he let us into the inner sanctum.

‘I see what you mean,’ Allan said. ‘But this is all with the benefit of hindsight, as you say. You didn’t know any of this then. So you should have had the plans, so you could have struck with maximum efficiency.’

‘I had a feeling it was a present,’ Berger said.

‘Of course you did. Supercop Sam Berger. In that case, why was there such a damn rush?’

‘Because there was a microscopic chance that the tipoff was genuine. That we could have rescued Ellen and caught the kidnapper.’

Detective Superintendent Allan Gudmundsson stood up in his sparsely furnished office. ‘Thinking things through isn’t your strong point, Sam, but I’m going to let you off this time. I can’t control what you feel. But I can give you clear orders regarding the line of inquiry which is to be the focus of this investigation. And that line is that Ellen Savinger was kidnapped outside her school in ?stermalm, right here in Stockholm, over two weeks ago. That’s all. You and your entire team haven’t got any further than that. You haven’t managed to find a single thing to go on.’

‘Which suggests very clearly that he’s done this before, Allan.’

‘But there’s nothing to support that, Sam. Just wild guesses that you are strictly forbidden from sharing with your team. That ban just got even stricter. Thanks to this so-called raid. If you choose to disregard your orders and this ban, you’ll be fired.’

‘I’m going to assume you’re joking.’

‘Do I look like I’m joking?’