Pahliss gave a start. His terror wasn’t for show. “No! Never.”
“Would you like to tell us more precisely what preferences he had?”
“Odd men. A lot of sadomasochism. But he never discussed his sexual adventures with me and Anders. We knew him only as a very good friend.”
Anders Gunnarsson had known him as more than a friend. But according to Gunnarsson that relationship had ended after only one week. That’s what Gunnarsson had said. Irene decided to speak with the dentist one more time.
“Do you know if Marcus was ever together with a doctor?” she asked.
The virologist thought for a moment. Then he shook his head. “Not that I know of.”
As he spoke he stiffened and gazed up at a point above Irene’s head. In a strained voice, he added, “Last summer . . . we were picnicking at Marstrand. We were a group of about ten people drinking wine and eating good food. I remember that Marcus got pretty drunk and started talking about a new guy he had just met. ‘He’s great. He’s my new personal physician,’ or something along those lines. Then he started laughing as if he had said something very funny.”
“He never mentioned that guy again?”
“No.”
Assurance was growing inside Irene. The doctor existed. And he was here in Göteborg.
HANS PAHLISS had gone and the feeling of the coming weekend began to descend over the offices on their floor. People had started going home; soon only the people on call would be left. A few hours of relative calm would engulf the station and then the weekend would start. Sirens would start blaring after darkness covered the city. It never got completely dark at the end of May, and the evening was warm. Teenagers who felt the end of the term drawing near would go out partying and let out a whole year’s worth of frustration. The adults, feeling “continental,” would congregate at the city’s restaurants and bars with outdoor seating. Together with the usual weekend quota of robberies and assaults, it pointed to a difficult night for the Göteborg police.
“How did it occur to you to ask Pahliss if he had been in Copenhagen?” Irene asked, curious.
Hannu shrugged his shoulders. “Just a whim. I thought about his conference in Paris. If he had been to Paris, then he could also have been to Copenhagen,” he said.
“We should try and talk with this Pontus Zander as soon as possible,” Irene thought out loud.
Hannu nodded. “I’ll look for him.”
Irene couldn’t keep from saying teasingly, “You’re not in a hurry to get home to the wife?”
Hannu’s bottomless gaze passed quickly over her face before he answered, “She’s staking out the strip club until ten tonight.”
In an attempt to brush her silly comment aside, Irene said, “How is it going? Will they be able to get Robert Larsson for laundering money through the club?”
“Maybe.”
When would she learn that you couldn’t get Hannu to make any personal comments? This man made Greta Garbo look like an exhibitionist.
To change the topic, she asked, “Are you on call this weekend?”
“No.”
“I am. If you get Pontus Zander, arrange a good time and place with him. Put a note on my desk and I’ll take care of the questioning.”
“I will if I can’t meet him tonight. If I can, I’ll take it myself,” said Hannu.
“OK. Have a good weekend.”
“You, too.”
Chapter 13
THE NOT WAS LYING in the middle of the desk. It was the first thing Irene saw when she stepped across the threshold of her office on Saturday morning. She put the coffee mug down on the desk with a yawn and read:Pontus Zander is coming at 11:00. He worked the late shift last night. Didn’t have a chance to ask him anything on the phone. P.Z. seems to be our link between Marcus and Emil.
Hannu
It was an unusually wordy message for Hannu. Irene hoped that he was right. Zander could be the breakthrough they had been waiting for, the explanation as to how the clues from Göteborg and Copenhagen came together.
IRENE WAS deeply engrossed in routine duties that had been piling up when the intercom beeped and reception announced that a Pontus Zander wanted to see her. She turned off the computer and took out her authorization card.
She immediately knew who Pontus was when she stepped out of the elevator and looked through the glass wall toward the reception area. He was tall and blond, and looked a lot like Anders Gunnarsson. Apparently Pahliss was attracted to a certain type. The difference was that