Detective Inspector Huss - By Helene Tursten & Steven T. Murray Page 0,108

five years ago. His father is unknown, according to the file. I know a little more about Bobo’s parents: they’re divorced. The mother is remarried and lives in Vänersborg. I just tracked down her address today and asked our colleagues up there to check it out, so that little Bobo won’t hide out at his mamma’s place. But she said she didn’t know where he was living. She was extremely upset. Claimed that the whole thing had to be a mistake: her Bobo was the most conscientious boy you could imagine. I don’t know where his father is. He’s a set designer who took early retirement, but I can’t find either an address or phone number for him.”

Jimmy raised his eyebrows and said, “Sounds like a great place to hide out. With Daddy, I mean.”

“Well, he’s sixty-three and was pensioned off early because of mental problems ten years ago. A serious alcoholic. According to what I found out, he’s homeless.”

There was a moment of reflection. Finally Irene said, “I think Billdal might be worth investigating. It’s the closest thing to a lead we have. Jimmy and I will drive out there and scout about. You’ll have to hold down the fort and keep looking for possible hideouts for Torsson.”

“That sounds good. By now I’m so familiar with Bobo’s and Shorty’s files that I’m probably the best qualified to keep on trying to track him down,” said Birgitta.

They quickly paid the check and ran out into the rain that had just started to fall. The planets were favorable today. The number seven streetcar came just as they reached the stop. They took it to Lilla Stampgatan. From there it was still a way to police headquarters. Soaking wet, they went through the doors, leaving small puddles behind them like a trail of bread crumbs leading to the elevator.

THEY TOOK out maps of the area mentioned in the report from the 1982 arrest. It took a while before they located the cottage. The “cow path” that the eighteen-year-old had missed was no more; a large row-house development had grown up where it had been. All the streets were redrawn. And at first they were searching much too close to the coast. But finally Irene succeeded in finding the little property, less than a hectare in size, on the border of the Sandsjöbacka nature preserve. In the report the cottage was called “Solhem,” and its location was marked on the detailed map.

Irene exclaimed, “What a fantastic setup! Not a house within sight of the farm. Perfect for someone who wants to hide out. Dense forest toward the nature preserve, hills on the north side, and open fields to the south and west. And no buildings in any direction.”

She stopped and continued with less enthusiasm, “There will be problems. How can we reach the house without being seen?”

Jimmy and Irene bent their heads over the map. Irene finally found a possible route.

“We’ll have to drive in via the Lindås interchange and then take the back roads toward Sandsjöbacka until we can’t go any farther. There are some small residential areas, but we’ll have to park out of view. We don’t want anyone getting worried and calling the police. Somewhere around here I think would be good. We’ll have to stay in the woods and head along the edge of the forest to the north.”

She made an “X” with her index fingernail on the map and Jimmy nodded, Yes.

His eyes followed the line that Irene drew with her fingernail. He was vibrating with excitement, although he was unaware of it. But it had an effect on Irene, who felt like an army commander before a battle. Yet she knew it was one thing to go over the route on the map and another thing entirely to stumble across rugged terrain in the rain and the dark.

Birgitta asked, “Do you have a chance to put on dry clothes before you take off? If you have to stand still outdoors to keep watch you’ll be frozen stiff.”

She gave their wet jeans and shoes a critical look. Irene remembered the box with her jogging outfit in the car and said, “I have my workout clothes in the car.”

“You can’t go roaming around the woods in judo pajamas!”

“No, not the judo clothes. A jogging suit. Tommy and I were going jogging Tuesday evening. But Tuesday was a washout, as you know. Jimmy, do you have any dry clothes?”

“Oh, I’ll be all right. But I have to go get a