Helene Tursten - The Torso

“ITHINK it’s about time for me to meet Pappa Tosscander,” said Irene.

She was standing leaning against the edge of Superintendent Andersson’s desk. Jonny was sitting on the visitor’s chair, sulking.

“I’ve talked with the old man. And I don’t want to go through that gay porn myself.” He made a face at the box that was standing by the inside of the door.

“You don’t need to pore over the magazines. Just look through the videos,” said Irene. She didn’t want to admit even to herself that she felt uncomfortable about watching them. That’s why she quickly said, “The possibility that Marcus returned to the city in the first week of March needs to be confirmed. Maybe he contacted his father. We have to ask him. Maybe he has forgotten or he doesn’t want to remember.”

“Has Hannu found those two guys from the album?” asked Superintendent Andersson.

“No, but he’s still looking. And he will locate them,” Irene said confidently.

“It’s after five. It’s almost time to leave,” said Jonny.

The phone on Andersson’s desk rang. He answered and then looked in Irene’s direction.

“Just a second. She’s here,” he said. He handed over the receiver and hissed, “A Dane, asking for you.”

Irene took the receiver. “This is Irene Huss.”

“Jens Metz here. We’ve found Isabell Lind. Dead.”

Irene couldn’t utter a sound. Her colleagues watched in astonishment as she grew pale and tried to steady herself by grasping the edge of the desk.

“Hello! Are you still there?” Jens Metz’s voice could he heard asking.

With great effort, Irene croaked, “I’m here.”

“Good. She was found murdered at the Hotel Aurora. The top floor is closed to guests due to renovations. The painters found her in one of the rooms. There are signs that point to our mutual murder-mutilator.”

To her own astonishment, Irene felt her knees begin to shake. She leaned heavily against the superintendent’s desk and managed to rest her weight on the edge. It felt as if her legs wouldn’t hold her.

“Is she. . is she dismembered?” she finally managed to get out.

“No. None of the parts are missing. But the murder method bears our murderer’s signature. She was strangled and abused, the same as Carmen Østergaard and the boy you found. The stomach was cut open but none of the contents were removed, according to Svend Blokk, who performed the autopsy.”

“Oh my God!” was all Irene could say.

“We want you to come back to Copenhagen. You know more than we do about Isabell and the investigation in Göteborg. I would also like to ask a big favor.”

“What?”

“That you notify the parents. It would be better than if we tried to convey this kind of message over the phone, and in Danish.”

Irene knew that he was right but her stomach clenched. She didn’t want to face Monika Lind’s despair. But she had to.

“OK, I’ll do it. But I have to talk to my boss about returning to Copenhagen.”

Andersson’s expression told her that he also had a good deal he wanted to talk about. The color of his face was ominous, and his expression was grim.

He exploded when she hung up the phone. “What the hell! Who’s been dismembered?”

Irene had to go through the whole Isabell Lind story from the very beginning, starting with Monika’s phone call. She went to get the tourist guide she had taken from the hotel room with the picture of the girls from Scandinavian Models.

Sven Andersson looked sternly at Irene. “And the only ones you showed the picture to were the three police officers you worked with on the murder-mutilation?”

For a hundredth of a second, Tom Tanaka’s heavy image floated in front of her eyes but she decided to keep him out of this. Her instinct was to protect his identity.

“Yes,” she said, looking Andersson in the eye.

The superintendent gazed at her for a long time. Maybe he sensed that she was hiding information.

“OK. You are going back to Copenhagen tomorrow. But you are taking Hannu with you.”

“That’s not possible,” said Hannu.

“Geez. You don’t have to stay the whole Whitsuntide,” said Andersson.

“I’m getting married.”

The others stared at him as though he had just revealed that he was the murderer. No one had anything to say.

Irene tried to get her act together. “Oh. I mean. . congratulations.” “Thanks.”

“Who the hell are you marrying?” said Andersson.

“Birgitta.”

Of course. Irene’s brain finally started working again. She had spied on Hannu and seen him get into Birgitta’s car, had thought they might be dating, but in her wildest imagination she hadn’t dreamed that it would go as far as marriage.

Andersson gasped for breath. After he managed to get some oxygen, he exclaimed, “Birgitta Moberg, here in the unit? Are you insane? A married couple can’t work together in the same unit!”

Hannu met his boss’s tirade calmly. “It will only be for about half a year. Then she will be on maternity leave a while and we’ll have to think things over.”

The silence was heavy. Irene sensed it was a good thing she was sitting. Andersson’s eyes looked like they were about to pop out of their sockets. She worried about his blood pressure, since she knew he didn’t always take his medicine.

“Well. This is a pretty kettle of fish! My inspectors, going behind my back and keeping secrets from me. Irene is conducting her own investigations in Copenhagen, and Hannu and Birgitta are getting married-”

He paused before he continued, “Of course, that doesn’t have anything to do with the job. But it still has to affect work when two inspectors are in a relationship. Not good at all!”

“Have you noticed any effect on my work or Birgitta’s?” asked Hannu.

A certain sharpness could be sensed in his voice. Andersson took note of it and didn’t answer. He just stared sourly in front of him. After a while he turned his chair around to face Jonny and said, “Well. And what kind of secret business do you have going on?”

Jonny looked very puzzled. “None. Not that I know of. None,” he answered, stammering.

No, you don’t have enough imagination Irene thought.

“Good. Then you can go with Irene to Copenhagen tomorrow morning. We can’t let her loose on her own because then people start dying like flies!”

It was an immature and unfair comment, thought Irene. But she understood that he was really stressed.

“Actually, I can’t go anywhere tomorrow either. As you may recall, I asked for the day off. We are going to Stockholm. My wife’s niece is getting married on Whitsunday. A big wedding with a hundred guests and-”

“This is unbelievable!” Andersson began, but he stopped himself. He rummaged around, pulled out the calendar, and found Whitsuntide with his index finger. With a wrinkled brow, he looked at the date. Finally, he came to a decision, saying, “OK. You and Irene will go to Copenhagen on Whitmonday. On Tuesday morning you will offer to assist our Danish colleagues.”

“But we were planning on coming home on Whitmon-”

“I don’t give a shit about that! You can come home whenever you want! But on Tuesday morning you are going to be in Copenhagen!”

IRENE CALLED home to explain that she had to drive to Vänersborg. Jenny didn’t ask what she was going to do there, just noted that her mother would be late, as usual.

The meeting with Monika Lind was just as traumatic as Irene had feared. Based on Irene’s expression, Monika must have known that the news could not be good. Or maybe it was just the fact that Irene showed up in person that warned her something serious had happened.

Irene explained without going into detail. Realizing that her daughter had been murdered was terrible enough for Monika. In closing, Irene said, “The information we have at the moment is scanty. On Monday, I’m driving down with one of my colleagues to try and find out more.”