Helene Tursten - The Torso

A faint smile could be detected in the corner of his mouth. Irene felt a bit more at ease.

Peter took off his cotton blazer and hung it over the back of his chair. “Tanaka closes the shop at eleven o’clock on Saturday evenings. His employee, Ole Hansen, also worked on Saturday. Hansen was in the employee’s lounge just before ten thirty. As you know, it’s located between the shop and Tanaka’s apartment.”

He stopped when Hannu returned with Jonny in tow. Jonny greeted Peter warmly but avoided looking at Irene. As far as he was concerned, she was empty air. If Peter noticed the tension, he pretended not to. He picked up where he had left off.

“Hansen heard a noise inside Tanaka’s apartment.”

“A shot?” Jonny asked.

“No. A crash, from a broken window. Hansen hurried after Tanaka, who went into his apartment. Hansen, standing in the doorway to the kitchen, saw Tanaka disappear in the direction of his bedroom. Almost immediately, he heard a terrible commotion. He describes it as a roar, and the sound of people fighting.”

The roar had probably come from Tom. A sumo wrestler summons up power and instills fear in his opponent with the help of loud screams, thought Irene.

“Hansen dialed the emergency number on his cell phone as he was running toward the bedroom. When he got there, he saw Tanaka lying on the floor in a rapidly growing pool of blood. The room was covered with it. A large blood vessel in his throat had been cut and his blood was pumping out.”

Irene’s stomach knotted when she pictured the scene in her head.

“Hansen saw a man dressed in black, wearing a hooded sweatshirt, disappear through the window. Hansen didn’t see his face, only his back. But he got the impression that the man was large. Not fat, but tall, with a large build.”

“Did he take anything?” Irene asked.

“Yes. A picture. Apparently a framed photograph. According to Hansen, there had been two on the wall. Now only one of them is left.”

“What’s the subject of the picture that’s still hanging there?”

“A naked man sitting in the water.”

The culprit had taken the backlit picture of the man standing in profile, leaning against a stone wall-the one that had sparked in Irene a faint feeling of recognition. He had left the picture of Marcus. She jumped out of her chair and said, “The mail!”

Without paying attention to her colleagues’ curious looks, she ran to get it. She heard Jonny say, “She’s been knocked totally off-kilter. This investigation has taken its toll. Women can’t see their limitations.”

To her joy, she heard Peter reply, “I don’t see her that way. Strongwilled, but definitely not off balance.”

With shaky fingers she started sorting her mail. There! She recognized the stiff exclusive envelope that was just like the one she had gotten Tom’s message in at the Hotel Alex. Triumphantly, she went back to her office bearing the white envelope and impatiently cut it open.

Two photographs floated down onto the desktop. Without a word, Irene pushed the pictures in front of Peter and Hannu’s surprised eyes. Jonny’s curiosity got the better of him and he drew closer in order to get a glimpse.

“How did you get these?” Peter asked, amazed.

Irene leaned back in her chair and said, “I’ll start from the beginning. But first I want to know if Tom is going to make it.”

Peter smiled widely for the first time since his arrival. “Of course. He’s had several blood transfusions and he’ll recover.”

The smile faded a bit when he continued, “The problem is that he lost so much blood that his brain may have been affected. But the doctors don’t know yet.”

At least Tom wasn’t going to die from his injuries. Irene would have to take comfort from that.

It didn’t take very long to explain her dealings with Tom to Peter. Since Hannu and Jonny had just heard it all, they studied both of the photographs. As Irene was finishing, Hannu looked up from the picture he held in front of him.

“I recognize this guy. But I can’t recall who he is.”

He turned the photo around. It was the backlit picture. Irene nodded.

“That’s exactly what I thought. Do you recognize him, too?” she asked Jonny.

He shook his head without looking at her. Peter took the picture and looked at it for a long time.

“No. I can’t say that I recognize him,” he said finally.

Irene took the picture back and stared intently at it, as if to force the man to turn toward the light. She had to put the photo down finally.

“It’s getting close to movie time,” Jonny said, and grinned.

They rose and went into an empty interrogation room where there was a TV with a VCR.

“We usually use this room for children we believe have been subjected to abuse,” Irene explained.

Peter nodded and put one of the films into the VCR.

The first thing they saw was a naked body lying on a long table. The table was covered with strong, see-through plastic. Scaffolding and miscellaneous junk could be seen under and behind the table. In the background, a sturdy tackle hung from a chain fixed to the ceiling. It appeared to be a large industrial building. Above the table, a bare lightbulb emitted a harsh light.

There was absolutely no doubt that the person on the table was dead. The camera zoomed in on a long incision that ran along the front of the corpse’s abdomen. It was obvious that the internal organs had been removed. At first it was difficult to decide if the body was male or female, since both chest muscles and the genitals had been cut away. But based on the curves of the hips and the thighs, Irene concluded that the body was that of a woman.

Peter hit the pause button and spoke. “We found these two films in a hidden compartment in Emil’s bookcase. These are copies that you can keep. There is no soundtrack on either of the films. This is Carmen Østergaard’s body. Neither the actual murder nor the rituals performed with the body afterward are shown. As you can see, the pelvic area is severely damaged. What follows now is the dismemberment itself. That’s Emil’s thing.”

Peter started the tape again. Emil Bentsen walked into the frame with a large circular saw in his right hand. He was dressed in a police uniform. When he stared at the camera from under the police cap, he looked absurd, almost comical, if it hadn’t been for his expression. His thin face was completely distorted, and his eyes stared wildly. He grinned and motioned toward the camera.

The camera zoomed in on the body again, this time on the head. Irene had time to see Carmen’s wide-open eyes and swollen tongue, sticking out of her mouth, indicating she had been strangled. Then Emil stepped in front of the camera and the screen became completely dark.

The next scene showed Emil as he sawed off Carmen’s head. He had positioned himself on the far side of her body, so he wouldn’t be in the way of the camera. As the head rolled to the side and fell to the floor, he raised the circular saw in the air in a show of victory. He bent and picked up the head, took a tight grip on the hair, and showed off his trophy proudly. The circular saw, with its red-colored blade, was still spinning. Emil turned it off, placed it on the plastic-covered table, and stepped close to the lens, Carmen’s head dangling from his outstretched hand. Irene saw his lips moving. He seemed to be talking the whole time. His chin and goatee were covered with drool.

“Stop!” Hannu screamed.

The scene ended and the next one started. Emil stood leaning over the body again, in the process of starting the saw. Peter Møller stopped the video.

“Back up,” Hannu instructed.

Without commenting, Peter did so.

“Stop,” Hannu said again.