do was wait for Richard to walk through the door of his office one last time.”
Andersson gave him a red-eyed look, wiped his copper-colored nose, and said thoughtfully, “You think that Charlotte is mixed up in the murder?”
Tommy nodded and motioned to Irene.
“We have no plausible motive for her, but Charlotte is the only one who doesn’t have a really good alibi. Not anymore, since Irene figured out the part about Today’s Echo at a Quarter to Five. So she left the Volkswagen dealership before five o’clock. It seems well planned, in view of the seduction of the little car salesman Skytter. She also had lots of opportunities to get hold of the keys,” he maintained.
The keys. Again Irene’s subconscious stirred. But nothing came to the surface. Annoyed, she had to try to concentrate on what the superintendent was telling them.
“Hannu talked to Pirjo’s children again today. And one of the little boys suddenly remembered that a man had called and asked for Pirjo on Wednesday morning. But Pirjo had just left to go clean the von Knechts’ apartment. The boy told this to the man on the phone. The daughter didn’t know anything about this call, because she was at school. It was a stroke of luck that Hannu thought of questioning the boys one more time.”
Fredrik did a double take on his chair and blurted out, “That’s exactly what I said! How could he know that Pirjo didn’t know the old man was dead, and that she would come to clean the place as usual that Wednesday morning? Now we know—he called to find out where she was!”
He paused, looked at his wristwatch, and continued quickly, “Excuse me, but I have to hurry to relieve Birgitta.”
The other three grinned broadly without saying a word. Everyone in the room knew that Birgitta finished her shift at six o’clock, which was now, and that Fredrik’s shift didn’t start until midnight. The color of his face began to match the superintendent’s nose as he nonchalantly said, “See you later. Have a great weekend, those of you who are off.”
Tommy’s response was swift, “Same to you, same to you. When you two are off.”
Fredrik pretended not to hear but hurried out the door.
Tommy laughed and said, “That guy could play the role of Lucia this year. Someone could walk behind him whispering, ‘Birgitta, Birgitta!’ Then his ears would light up, so we could skip the crown of lights!”
Irene jokingly shook her fist at him. “We shouldn’t tease them. I think they’re cute,” she admonished.
Andersson raised his eyebrows to his hairline. Not all the way, because then they would have wound up on the back of his neck. Vexed, he said, “Cute! We’re talking about two cops here! They’re not supposed to go around being cute on the job! That’s not right. Trouble with . . . aaah-choo!”
Good thing he sneezed. Irene didn’t have to listen to him say broads. But she could imagine it. In an unconsciously maternal tone of voice she said, “Now you should really go home and take care of that cold.”
He glowered at her. He detested that kind of talk! “Yes, Mamma.”
He meant it to sound sarcastic, but it fell a little flat. He was really tired. Maybe he had a fever. What else did he have to say? Suddenly he remembered.
“There was one more thing that Hannu found out today. After Richard von Knecht and Valle Reuter had lunch, Richard went to the bank and withdrew ten thousand kronor. It was around four o’clock.”
The two inspectors looked surprised.
“Why didn’t Valle say anything about this before?”
“Good question. Can you find out, Irene? He likes female cops. Hannu called in this information an hour ago. He was going to keep going around the square asking questions.”
“What bank was it?”
“The SE-Bank on Kapellplatsen. The question is, what did von Knecht do with the money?”
He was interrupted by the phone ringing. He answered brusquely, “Andersson. Yes . . . I’ll be damned! Meet Irene and Tommy outside the front door on Molinsgatan. They’ll be there in fifteen minutes.”
Energetically he hung up the receiver and clapped his hands together.
“That was Hannu. He was in the bakery by the square talking to them just before they closed. Richard von Knecht came in and bought two open-faced sandwiches on Tuesday afternoon. Around four o’clock. Barely an hour and a half before he was murdered!”
THEY WERE lucky. Valle Reuter was home. Irene was about to hang up when he answered after a great many rings.