Helene Tursten: The Torso

Irene was startled out of her thoughts by the superintendent’s voice. He stood in front of the coastal map making circular motions over the light blue water. Andersson’s gaze moved quickly over the group before coming to rest on Hannu Rauhala.

“Make contact with Pathology at lunchtime and try and find out how long the body has been dead. Then you can start going through missing persons’ reports filed around the time the body would have been fresh.”

Hannu nodded.

The superintendent turned toward the others.

“Everyone except Irene, go out to Skintebo and start knocking on doors. We want to find out whatever anyone observed that may have something to do with the discovery. Has anyone seen similar black sacks or anybody carrying black sacks at odd times? And you know the rest.” He stopped himself and sighed deeply before continuing, “Irene and I are going to try and tie up the loose ends surrounding the Angered murder. Everyone has been questioned and the hooligans have confessed, but we have a meeting with the prosecutor later this morning to go through the whole case.”

IRENE HAD a great deal of admiration for Inez Collin. They were roughly the same age. Superintendent Andersson had always had problems with the female prosecutor and Irene often thought that the reason was that she was not only a woman but schooled in the law as well.

Inez Collin looked absolutely fantastic, as usual. Today she was dressed in a light dove gray dress with matching shoes. Over the dress she was wearing a sober blazer that was a shade darker than the narrow dress. She had gathered her light hair into a ponytail and fastened it with a large silver clasp. Both her lips and nails were painted a delicious shade of bright red.

It was always easy to work with her and they finished just before lunch. Andersson was in a hurry to leave the room. Maybe he was afraid that Inez Collin would suggest that they have lunch together, thought Irene.

The truth was that Andersson wanted to find out if the pathologists had called. He was too impatient to wait for the elevator and started up the stairs instead. On the way he started to regret his impulsiveness. By the time he reached the Violent Crimes floor his face was flushed and he was gasping like a broken bellows. Slowly, he started to make his way down the corridor while trying to get his blood pressure and breathing under control.

Hannu came out of his office, stopping when he caught sight of his panting boss. He looked at Andersson and assessed the red patches on his face and neck, but as usual made no comment. With difficulty, the superintendent tried to laugh it off. “I guess you shouldn’t go in for sports when you’re almost sixty.”

Hannu smiled politely but a hint of concern could be seen in his ice blue eyes.

“Have you gotten hold of the pathologist?” Andersson asked.

“Yes. Professor Stridner said that they wouldn’t be finished before two o’clock.”

The color in Andersson’s face darkened. “Two! Is it going to take longer to examine that little piece than it usually takes to cut up a whole body?”

Hannu shrugged his shoulders without answering. Andersson took a few deep breaths before asking, “Do you know if they’ve found anything else at Killevik?”

The response was negative. The superintendent gave Hannu an irritated look and disappeared into his office.

As she entered the corridor Irene heard the last exchange. She smiled at Hannu and said softly, “He’s a bit bent out of shape today. First Inez Collin in the morning and then having to go and wait for news from Yvonne Stridner. . It’s just too much.”

Hannu laughed softly. If the superintendent felt uncomfortable around the coolly elegant prosecutor, then he practically had a phobia about the pathology professor, Yvonne Stridner. She was a colorful woman with a great air of authority and competence, one of the most skillful medical examiners in Scandinavia. Everyone thought so, not least the woman herself.

“Maybe we can go and eat in the meantime,” said Irene.

“Unfortunately, I’ve already made plans to meet someone else.”

The slightest hint of red could be seen across his high cheekbones. Wow! For the first time in the two years Hannu had been working with them, he was showing signs of an emotional life. Irene’s imagination instantly started painting a picture of a romantic lunch date with a secret woman. Or maybe a man? She realized that she had no idea whether Hannu had a live-in girlfriend or a wife, or if he was single. She was insanely curious but at the same time she knew she would never get any information out of Hannu. Maybe one could run an internal investigation? A mean thought, but tempting nonetheless. Without a hint of what was going on inside her head, Irene said lightly, “Too bad for me. I’ll see you around two.”

The whole thing had been almost too easy. Irene heard Hannu close the door as he left. She stood and peered out the window in her office. Hannu emerged from the police station and walked across the parking lot. He directed his steps purposefully toward a scrubby yellow VW Golf. He opened the door on the passenger’s side and hopped in.

Irene recognized the car all too well. There weren’t many models from the mideighties still rolling around the streets, but Detective Inspector Birgitta Moberg had one. She took good care of the car and she would never lend it to anyone. There was little doubt that it was Birgitta herself who was driving.

“ WHA T THE hell does she mean?! Not done yet! It’s two o’clock and she’s had all day!”

Superintendent Andersson lost all control when the message came from Pathology. Irene had been the one to take the call and tell her boss the news. He glared angrily and accusingly at Irene. She didn’t take it personally because she knew the looks were intended for Professor Stridner.

Andersson stepped up to the window and looked through the dirty pane at Ernst Fontells Plats. Irene understood from his low muttering that he was thinking. After a while he turned to face her and said, “We’re going up to Pathology. Stridner must be able to tell us something! Then we’ll drive out to Killevik. I want to see where the sack was found.” AS ALWAYS, when he stepped across the threshold of the Pathology Department, Andersson seemed overwhelmed by a strong sense of discomfort. Irene knew how he felt but she acted as though she didn’t notice. His sensations certainly didn’t improve after the blond body-builder of an attendant informed them that the professor was in the examination room. He was familiar with the superintendent’s loathing for autopsies and beamed with a charming but provoking smile. His teeth shone white against his sunburned skin. Though he had been working at Pathology for many years, his appearance, together with his neat ponytail, gave an impression of vitality that was entirely out of place in those surroundings. Irene only knew his first name, printed on his name tag: Sebastian.

It was the smell that was the worst. Perhaps it was possible to get used to it if you experienced it daily, thought Irene. But when people like her and the superintendent visited only now and then, it hit them with its full effect.

Andersson stopped just inside the door and, to her surprise, Irene noted that he had pushed her in front of him. So she trotted up to the steel table where Yvonne Stridner was dissecting the upper half of the torso that had been found.

The pathologist looked up over the edge of her magnifying eyeglasses and knit her eyebrows. “What are you doing here?” she asked sharply.

Irene felt impelled to answer since the superintendent was silent.

“We were wondering if you really hadn’t discovered anything. . useful?”

Stridner snorted loudly. “I’ll contact you when I’m finished.”