Grendel's Game (33 page)

“Not at all,” Rystrom replied. “You've known Stillen since you were young. You were married to him. It's perfectly natural.”

“And when did you and Stillen first begin your plan to get hold of the Westberg money?” Ekman asked.

“We never did. Never. How can you say such a thing?” she asked.

“That's the third lie you've told us, Froken Lindfors,” Ekman replied. “Maybe you don't want Rodger Westberg to be found.”

“Above all I want Rodger back safe and sound.” She paused. “You can't prove Carl and I wanted his money,” she said, with narrowed eyes.

“You may find out differently what we can prove, Froken Lindfors. Do you know someone called Grendel?” Ekman asked, changing the subject.

“What?” she said, seeming surprised by this sudden shift. “That cannibal in the papers? How could I know anything about him?”

“You could know a great deal, if you and Stillen had made him up.”

“That's absolutely ridiculous.” She turned to Rystrom, “Your colleague has gone off the deep end with his wild accusation. He hates me. Can't you see that?”

“Walther, please. Froken Lindfors is upset,” Rystrom said in a sympathetic tone.

“She has every reason to be upset,” Ekman responded. “No one likes to have their lies found out.”

Turning to Lindfors, Ekman said, “Lying to the police in a murder investigation is a serious offense. I'm tired of listening to you.” He got up. “I need a break.” And left the room.

Outside, he found Rystrom's technician waiting for him with Lindfors's phone in his hand.

“Well, what did you get?” he asked.

“We copied all the phone numbers and text messages. It'll take a little time to compare them with the missing men's phone calls. We're working on Stillen's phone now. And we've taken fingerprints from both phones.”

“Okay, good,” Ekman said, pocketing Lindfors's phone, and heading down the hall to the men's room.

Rystrom had leaned across the table, speaking to Lindfors in a low, confidential tone.

“I apologize for Walther. He's a good police officer, but he can get carried away and go off on a tangent when he feels frustrated.”

“He's an unfeeling person. After all I've been through. He doesn't understand people the way you obviously do, Superintendent,” she said in a soft voice.

“Please call me Garth, and may I call you Stina?”

“Of course . . . Garth.”

“Stina, we're trying to solve a difficult case. Much more complicated than you or the public know. So we need your help. Please forgive me if I have to ask very personal questions.”

“Ask whatever you need to, Garth.”

“How long have you been romantically involved with Stillen?”

She hesitated. “Please try to understand, Garth. He was my first lover. After he got out of prison, where he was because he defended me when I was his wife, I felt I owed him something. So we've become attached to one another. But this was different from what I felt for Eugen, and then Rodger. Carl and I have become more like brother and sister.”

Ekman was watching and listening in the observation booth. She's smooth, he thought. That was an interesting brother and sister act she put on in her apartment. I'm not surprised she's trying to charm the pants off Garth.

“I understand completely,” said Rystrom.

“I know he seems changed, less violent, but is there some slight possibility that Stillen may have a hidden tendency to violence?”

She considered the question. “It's always possible, I suppose, Garth, but I've never seen any sign of it since he got out of prison.”

She's hedging, Ekman thought. The question about Grendel got her thinking.

“Since there is a possibility, however small, that Stillen could be hiding his violent nature from you, knowing how repulsed you are by it, do you think he might have had something to do with Rodger's disappearance? Totally without your knowledge, of course.”

“I can't believe that. I know him better than that. He wouldn't do such a terrible thing.”

“Think about it, Stina. He knew Rodger was leaving you his money, didn't he?”

“I suppose I may have mentioned it,” she said.

“Well, knowing that, and perhaps being secretly jealous of your relationship with Rodger, he could have decided to remove him to have you to himself. I could understand that, Stina. You're an incredibly desirable woman,” Rystrom said, smiling at her.

She shook her head.

“No, don't deny it, you're very lovely. What man wouldn't want you?”

“He's never been jealous,” she protested.

“He was in a jealous rage when he almost killed that man years ago, wasn't he?”

“Yes . . . but he's changed.”

“Can you be absolutely sure?”

She hesitated. “No, not absolutely.”

She's decided Stillen's a liability and is getting ready to cut him loose, thought Ekman. Good work, Garth.

“Well, that's something to think about, Stina,” Rystrom said, as Ekman came back into the room and stood over her.

“Is there anything else you want to tell us, Froken Lindfors?” Ekman asked.

“I've told you everything.”

Ekman said, “This interview is over. Here's your phone.”

“And here are warrants for the computers at your home and office, and your car. They're being executed just about now,” he said, looking at the clock on the wall.

“How dare you? You've no right to enter my home and office and invade my privacy. Can't you stop him, Garth?” she pleaded.

“Stina, I'm truly sorry, but it's out of my hands. The prosecutor has authorized the warrants.”

“The computers will be returned when we've finished examining them,” said Ekman.

Lindfors was speechless, her face red with outrage.

She got up, and Rystrom said, “Constable Sorrensson will drive you back to your office, Stina. Thank you for your time and for being so frank. I know it was difficult for you.” He shook her hand, holding it a few seconds longer than he had to. “It was a pleasure meeting you. I hope to see you again sometime.”

“It was good meeting you too, Garth,” she replied with a dazzling smile. Ignoring Ekman as though he weren't there, she walked out of the room. The constable followed her.

In the observation booth, looking through the mirror at Stillen restlessly pacing back and forth, Ekman grinned and said, “What a performance, Garth. The stage lost a great actor when you entered the academy.”

Rystrom bowed; “You weren't bad yourself, Walther.”

“However, the Oscar must go to your dear friend, ‘Stina.' She's a piece of work.”

“Yes, but an extremely beautiful piece of work. If I weren't a happily married man, and a totally dedicated officer, I'd be tempted to follow up.”

“And she'd probably be delighted if you did exactly that. Seriously, what do you think? Are she and Stillen killers?”

“That's still not clear. When I suggested he might be, she was willing to consider it. That doesn't mean she hasn't been his partner all along. Maybe now she thinks she needs someone to take the fall, and he's it. But the other possibility, of course, is that what I was proposing to her is exactly what happened. Stillen killed Westberg out of jealousy, and the other men . . . whom she doesn't know about . . . because he's deranged. She may be innocent of everything, except promiscuity and greed. But these are only biblical, not secular, crimes.”

“Wait a minute, Garth. What about her involvement with the two men on the chess site?”

“I thought about that, but all we have is her photo and some e-mails. What if it's actually Stillen, pretending to be Lindfors, and she knew nothing about it?”

Ekman considered this for a moment. “It's possible. You don't think she's worked her magic on you, do you? Maybe you're bewitched?”

Rystrom laughed. “I'm not as vulnerable as all that, but she does exert a powerful amount of charm.”

“Now, however, I'm afraid you have a less charming task ahead . . . Stillen. This time I'll be my usual benign self,” Ekman said, with what he believed was a beneficent smile.

56

Interrogation – Stillen

S
tillen got up as they came in.

“It's about time. I've been waiting here for two hours,” he said. “What do you want from me?”

“Shut up and sit down,” said Rystrom, his voice harsh.

Stillen hesitated and then sat, glaring at them as they pulled out chairs across from him.

“This is a formal, recorded interview with Carl Stillen,” Rystrom said for the cameras. “It's four thirty
P.M
., Friday, October 21st, at county police headquarters in Weltenborg. I'm Superintendent Garth Rystrom, CID. With me is Chief Superintendent Walther Ekman.”

“This is a murder investigation, Stillen,” Rystrom said. “So I advise you to cooperate. You're not under arrest. Yet.”

“Arrest? For what? Who's been murdered?”

“Rodger Westberg, for one, and perhaps several others,” replied Ekman. “If we get the answers we need, you'll be able to walk out of here, a free man. If not . . .”

“I've got nothing to do with Westberg's disappearance. As for others, I don't know what you're talking about.”

“Let's focus on Westberg for now,” said Rystrom. “What's your involvement with him?”

“I've never met him. All I know from the papers and TV is that he's missing. Period.”

“Don't you dare lie to us,” said Rystrom, slamming his fist on the table.

“I'm not lying.”

“Carl,” said Ekman in a confidential tone, “we know all about you and Stina Lindfors, Westberg's fiancée. There's no point in lying. It just makes you look bad.”

Stillen bit his lower lip. “Okay, okay. You're right. I didn't want to drag her into this.”

“She's already in it up to her neck. And so are you,” Rystrom said.

“Now wait a minute. We didn't have anything to do with Westberg's disappearance.”

“You didn't know he'd left your ex-wife and current girlfriend a fortune?”

Stillen paused before he answered. “We'd heard he'd changed his will. But it's not our fault if he vanished. We were as surprised as anybody, and that's the truth.”

“So you say. Why should we believe you?” Rystrom asked.

“Because we'd be stupid to do something to him soon after he changed his will, right?”

“Criminals always do stupid things. That's why they're criminals.”

“How did you feel about Stina taking up with Westberg's father, and then the son?” asked Ekman. “I can understand if you were jealous. It's only natural.”

Stillen shrugged. “I wasn't jealous. Stina and I go back a long way. We kept in touch over the years. After we divorced, she led her own life and met other guys. I was okay with that.”

“Don't give us that bullshit, Stillen. You almost killed a man and went to prison over Stina,” Rystrom said.

“We were married then. The guy grabbed my wife right in front of me. What would you do?”

“Not what you did. You were always crazy jealous of the men she was with, so when you saw a chance for her to get a fortune, too, you had a double reason for killing Westberg.”

“You've got it all wrong. Yes, Stina and I've been lovers for years, no matter who else she was seeing. We always come first with each other. I'm the important guy in her life; they never were. So I don't have any reason to be jealous. Sure, I was glad Rodger put her in his will, but when she married him, she'd get everything she wanted, and so would I. Stina and I would be together after she married. That was our plan. Not to kill him.”

“Why did you create Grendel?” Rystrom asked.

“That cannibal guy? I don't know anything about him.”

“Just like you didn't know anything about Westberg? Grendel is the fall guy you invented to take the blame for your murder.”

“You're out of your mind,” said Stillen, his face tensing as his hands gripped the edge of the table. His words fell over themselves. “You're trying to finger me so you can get credit for solving the Westberg thing. But I'm not going down for it. No way. No way.”

“You're a psychopathic killer, Stillen, and we know it. You can't lie your way out of this one,” said Rystrom, standing up and going to the door. “I can't stand to be in the same room with you.”

There was silence after Rystrom left. Ekman looked at Stillen with concern written on his face.

“Carl, Rystrom thinks you're guilty, but I believe he's mistaken. If you're honest with me, maybe I can help change his mind.”

“What do you want to know?”

“Do you know how to tie a bowline knot?”

“Sure, I worked in a naval supply store. I know all the knots. What's that got to do with anything?” He looked puzzled.