met them when they went into the studio.
THEY HAD carefully stepped up to the closed door. Hannu had opened it with his toe cap. There was a spacious bathroom inside. A naked, headless body lay in the huge bathtub. From her position in the doorway, Irene saw that the body looked like Emil’s, except for the fact that the head was missing. Hannu took a few steps inside the room, watching where he put his feet. There was a lot of blood on the floor.
“Cut open. Trauma to the pelvic area. Genitalia and chest muscles are cut away,” he ascertained.
“Can you see if the buttocks are missing?” she said.
“No. There’s a lot of blood and . . .”
He stopped and shook his head before retreating.
“We can’t do much before the technicians have done their stuff,” he said.
Irene was grateful to have avoided seeing the mutilated body. It was an accusation against her, personally. She should have known that Erik was in danger. He had taken the picture of Basta, and that picture had almost cost Tom Tanaka his life. Manpower was the connection between Tom and Erik Bolin.
Everything was as it had been in the studio, except that the place where the destroyed photo had been hanging was empty. A blank. The police patrol arrived and the technicians came soon after.
Hannu stood in front of the salt-sprayed study of Marcus for a long time before he turned to Irene and said, “You’re right. Erik was in love with Marcus.”
They heard a commotion at the outer door. Irene and Hannu turned and saw Professor Yvonne Stridner in person sail into the hall. This was highly unusual.
“Where’s the body?” she said in a high voice to no one in particular.
She expected that one of the servants would answer. Police technician Svante Malm gestured silently toward the bathroom door and then returned to the blood trail under the hat rack. Stridner was in such a hurry that she missed the head on the shelf, but no one stopped her in order to draw her attention to it.
After barely a minute, the professor asked in a loud voice, “Have you found the head?”
Without taking his eyes from what he was doing, Svante Malm pointed up at the ordinary wire hat rack with its macabre decoration. Even Stridner became speechless at the sight.
“STRIDNER SAYS that she thinks Bolin has also been strangled but she wasn’t sure. She’ll be in touch when she has taken a closer look at the body,” Irene concluded.
No one interrupted her while she was talking, but now the superintendent sighed. “To cut off the head! What a sick thing to come up with!”
“A new element,” said Hannu.
“It was Emil’s job to cut off the head and limbs. We’ve seen that in the videos. And the murderer didn’t bother to do so in Emil’s and Isabell’s murders.” Irene said.
“Then why is he starting with this now?” Andersson asked.
Irene remembered what Yvonne Stridner had said that time when Irene visited her at Pathology. Stumbling, she attempted to explain. “His inner images have changed. He sees things inside that he needs to act out. According to Stridner, it’s an incredibly strong urge. Clearly, he has added this thing with the head to his inner image.”
Andersson nodded and tried to look like he was following this explanation.
Jonny asked permission to speak. “About this thing with the pictures, one of Marcus’s videos is different from the others. It’s more like one Emil would have liked. Lots of blood and slaughter. Interestingly enough, it’s of women, not a lot of queers. Damned sick, anyway.”
“What’s it called?” Hannu asked.
“Don’t remember,” Jonny answered.
“Go get it,” said Andersson.
Reluctantly, Jonny sauntered off to his office. He came back with a video in hand. Hannu reached out for it.
“It doesn’t say anything on it,” he determined.
“It’s a copy of a feature-length film. The title is at the beginning,” Jonny informed them.
Hannu disappeared into a room with video equipment. While they were waiting, Birgitta informed them that she had found Marcus’s password.
“He had saved it in Netscape Bookmarks. Guess what it is?”
She paused for effect and looked around at the curious faces in the room. She slowly turned her notebook, which she had in her lap. In black ink it said: 69 Hotnights.
“Hot nights? That’s ridiculous!” Irene exclaimed.
“I’ve found a customer and address list, different jobs, and so on. I’ll print out the things that seem interesting,” Birgitta continued.
“Have you found any names we recognize yet?” asked Irene.
“Not yet. But I’ve barely had