know where all three key rings are right now?”
“Of course. I have my own keys in my handbag. The extra keys are in my desk drawer. I saw them this morning. Richard’s key ring is where I found it yesterday, on his nightstand.”
She pointed to the other side of the bed. A smaller key ring lay there, apparently holding car and garage keys. Next to it was a black leather key case. Irene unsnapped the case and counted six keys. She had a fleeting image of the tongue twister “Six shiny sardines stuffed in a shiny sardine can.”
“How many of these keys are for the apartment?” asked Irene.
“Two. One to the Yale lock and one to the deadbolt.”
“What are the other keys for?”
“Two are for the house on Kärringnäset, our house outside Marstrand. The other two must be for Richard’s office.”
“Are there any spare keys to the office?”
“Yes. They’re on the spare-key ring in my desk drawer.”
“There are no other sets of keys?”
Sylvia shook her head. “No. But speaking of keys, I remember that Richard was looking for his spare keys to the car and garage. Like the ones lying there on his nightstand,” she said.
“When was that?”
“It must have been at least a week ago.”
“Did he find them?”
“Not that I know of.”
Irene made a note in her notebook. In order to clarify, she asked again, “The car keys here on the table are his regular set? Not the spare set?”
“Exactly.”
Irene jotted down more notes. Evidently the spare keys to the car and garage were still missing. She quickly asked another question.
“Who cleaned Richard’s office?”
“Pirjo did it sometimes. She would agree on a time with Richard, and he would let her in. Most often on Tuesdays or Thursdays. Those are the days she’s not cleaning here. Occasionally she takes on other cleaning jobs, I understand.”
A thought occurred to Irene. It was a long shot, but no idea could be ignored.
“What does Pirjo look like?”
“Rather chubby, and short. She must be a little over thirty, but looks like she’s well over forty. Her hair is thin and blond, usually put up in a ponytail. She looks sloppy, but she’s actually the best cleaning woman I’ve ever had. Alice, my friend who recommended her, said so too. But she smokes. If she quit she’d have more money for herself. I’m not paying her too little—she’s smoking it all up!”
Irene got a feeling that there had recently been salary negotiations between Sylvia and Pirjo. An illegally employed cleaning woman hardly has much clout, even when she can plead her case in Finnish. With a sigh Irene had to abandon her little idea. There couldn’t have been any hanky-panky between Richard and Pirjo. She had gleaned enough about his preferences to realize that he would hardly view a fat, worn-out cleaning woman as a sex object.
“My next question is for you, Henrik. Where can I get hold of Charlotte today?”
“At home. Why?”
“I need to ask her where she was last Tuesday evening, between five and six P.M. to be specific.”
Henrik nodded and gave a curt, joyless laugh as he said, “If anybody has an alibi, it’s her.”
“And the two of you.”
“And the two of us. She was out picking up her new car. At the Volkswagen Center on Mölndalsvägen.”
Sylvia gave a start. “What? Has she bought another new car?”
“Calm down, Mamma. Her old Golf was in the shop most of the time. The electrical system was always shorting out.”
“But it wasn’t even two years old!”
“We traded it in and got a good deal. Now she has a brand-new Golf. They’re selling off this year’s model at a five percent discount.”
Sylvia looked sullen. “She could have bought my BMW. I can manage with Richard’s Porsche,” she said.
“Your BMW is three years old and has only thirty thousand kilometers on it. You’ll get a good price when you sell it.”
“But that’s so much trouble. You have to place an ad, people have to come and look at it. It’s so complicated when you’re alone.”
Henrik sighed. “Let a car dealer do it for you,” he said patiently.
“No, they don’t pay much if you’re not buying a new car. By the way, maybe I’ll sell the Porsche and keep the BMW. You can get more for a new Porsche.”
Sylvia seemed to have slipped quickly into the role of a single woman. But all her problems were clearly of a financial or practical nature.
Irene cleared her throat to remind her that she was there. “I’ll let you know when