Murder in Malmö: The second Inspector Anita Sundström mystery (Inspector Anita Sundström mysteries) (23 page)

‘Do
LP
or
AG
mean anything? Or an alternative
TE
?’

‘I don’t think so. Then again,’ he glanced quizzically towards the window. ‘I have no idea about the others, but
AG
could be Ander Genmar.’

‘Ander Genmar? Who’s he?’

‘Genmar is the CEO of Genmar Financial Services. I worked for him when he had a successful company in Lund. Genmar sold out to Wollstad in 1992. That’s how I first came to work for Wollstad. Since then Genmar has gone on to build a very successful financial organization. Mainly insurance.’

‘Where does he live?’

‘He used to live in Lund. May still be there.’

Anita nodded to Hakim and they stood up and prepared to leave. At least they had gleaned one useful piece of information.

‘By the way, I know you’ve been asked about your political views, and those of Tommy Ekman, but is there anybody at the agency who you would regard as left-wing? Anti-fascist? Or ideologically opposed to Ekman?’

Nilsson considered this question carefully, as he did all that he was asked. ‘Jesper Poulsen.’ The answer was said with certainty.

‘The copywriter?’

‘Bit of a leftie. But copywriters tend to be. They all want to write the great social novel. Poulsen is no different.’

‘His name suggests he’s Danish.’

‘Yes, Daniel Johansson head-hunted him from a big Copenhagen agency. Poulsen often expressed strong opinions on the Danish attitudes to immigrants, which he felt were not a credit to his nation. Not that he expressed it like that. I don’t think he was Tommy’s cup of tea.’

‘Because of his attitudes to immigrants?’

‘No. He just seemed to get under Tommy’s skin. He wasn’t afraid to argue a point in meetings. Everybody else tended to go along with what Tommy wanted. Tommy did not appreciate being contradicted.’

‘Why didn’t he get rid of him?’

‘Poulsen is a brilliant copywriter and works well with Johansson. They’re regarded as one of the top creative teams in Sweden. They’ve won many awards both here and internationally. We won a lot of business through Poulsen’s efforts.’ Nilsson was hit by a thought. ‘Strangely enough, Poulsen has a right-wing connection. Nazi, you could say.’

‘What?’

‘His mother was a Lebensborn child.’

They were back at the falafel stand on Linnégatan again. It was Hakim’s turn to pay this time. The weather wasn’t as warm as their last visit and there was rain in the air.

‘What’s Lebensborn?’ asked Hakim, with his mouth half-full of falafel.

‘It was some sort of Nazi breeding programme during the Second World War. I think it was the brainchild of Heinrich Himmler. It was all about racial purity. Biologically fit, blue-eyed, blond-haired Aryans. It was their ideal.’

‘So they wouldn’t have been very happy with the likes of me.’

‘Afraid not. They set up these Lebensborn homes in Germany, then across the occupied countries. Like Norway. And obviously Denmark, if Poulsen’s mother is a product of the scheme. They often kidnapped young blond children from other countries, or encouraged their soldiers to mate with women from these places. Many of the women who ended up pregnant after having relationships with German troops had few alternatives other than turning to a Lebensborn home for help.’

Hakim ruminated over this information as he ate his remaining piece of falafel. After swallowing it, he wiped his mouth. ‘It must have been difficult for these women after the war finished.’

‘Not only for the women. The kids, too. In Norway, many of the children were put in lunatic asylums because they were regarded as a national embarrassment. Many were abused and mistreated.’

‘It wasn’t their fault,’ said Hakim indignantly.

‘No. They suffered for the sins of their parents. You know that girl from ABBA - Anni-Frid? She was a Lebensborn child. Saw a documentary on her. Her Norwegian mother fell in love with a German soldier. But Anni-Frid was brought to Sweden after the war, so escaped the ill-treatment.’

They began to wander back to where Anita had parked her car.

‘If Poulsen’s grandmother is one of these women who fraternized with the Germans, wouldn’t that make him more likely to support the right wing? Alternatively, could he have gone the other way, as Nilsson suggests?

Both thoughts had occurred to Anita. ‘We’d better go and ask him.’

The gun lay on his bed. He stared at it. To him it was a thing of beauty. It wasn’t an innate object. It was an extension of him. He couldn’t imagine life without firearms. They gave him pleasure. They gave him power. They gave him a purpose. He took out a cigarette and lit it. He expelled the smoke from his mouth and watched it dissipate. It reminded him of the smoke that had coiled from the old hunting rifle the first time his father had let him fire it. He had loved the feel of it in his hands. The excitement it gave him on those early hunting trips. It was the rifle that his father had been using when he had been shot dead. They all said that it had been an accident. Even his mother. But he knew better. It had been the Finn. The outsider. He had waited until he was old enough to avenge his father’s death. He had enjoyed using the old man’s weapon to shoot the Finn. The authorities put that down to a hunting accident too. All those trees. It was bound to happen from time to time. It had been his first killing, and it had never been quite as satisfying since.

He leant over the bed, picked up the gun, caressed it for a moment and dropped it into the leather bag on the chair next to the door. The smooth hard metal nestled against the soft cotton T-shirt. The voice was insistent. The instruction was clear. He zipped up the bag. He finished his cigarette before
flicking it out of the open window. He pulled the window shut and, with the bag in his hand, he left the room. This time it was going to be different. He had a specific target in mind.

Anita and Hakim crossed Stortorget. It was busy in the early afternoon. The heavy drizzle wasn’t deterring the shoppers as they streamed in and out of Södergatan. Anita liked the elegant buildings in the square, but it was the wide open space that she enjoyed wandering through. In August, during Malmöfestivalen, a giant stage was erected at one end, as part of the week-long free arts festival. Then the town really came alive with every conceivable type of music and performing arts - from jam sessions to juggling, there was something for everyone in tents, in squares and in parks. At the corner of the square, Ekman & Johansson was located.

Anita had already popped back to the polishus to tell Moberg and Nordlund about Ander Genmar. Moberg was going to delegate that task to Nordlund and Westermark. She hadn’t mentioned Jesper Poulsen, as he wasn’t on their list of suspects and might turn out to be just another time-wasting diversion. She wanted to speak to Poulsen first, so that she could eliminate him from their enquiries and not give Moberg yet another reason to criticize her. While they were back in headquarters she had phoned Gabrielsson’s gallery. She had caught Inga, who had called in to check the post. The gallery was still officially closed and she hadn’t heard from Stig Gabrielsson since he had rushed off abroad. She was getting worried about him, as he hadn’t gone away for so long before without being in touch.

Anita’s dad would have called the advertising agency “swish”. The interiors were very modern and weren’t entirely in keeping with an old building. She had already asked to speak to Viktoria Carlsson, Ekman’s PA, Daniel Johansson, Elin Marklund, and the secretary who had covered for Carlsson during her lunch break. She also had Sven Lundin, head of media, down on her list, mainly because he had been at both the morning meetings and the presentation, though he hadn’t been at the celebratory drink for long. As the meeting had only been fixed up the day before, she hadn’t had time to add Jesper Poulsen to the list, but had assumed he would be in the agency on a Friday afternoon anyway. However, on her arrival, Anita was informed that Jesper Poulsen had flown up to Stockholm for the day to record some voice-overs and wasn’t due back in the office until Monday. She got hold of his home address and decided to see him on Saturday morning.

They had already spoken to the two secretaries before they were shown into Johansson’s large, glass-fronted office. There were two rectangular, veneered desks with shiny tubular metal supports. Both had computers. Johansson’s had two large Apple macs on his desk, with piles of papers, a large sketch pad, two thick advertising annuals, a coffee cup and a half-drunk bottle of water. Hanging on the two end walls were mounted advertisements, stills from TV commercials and various framed awards. Through the glass partition, there was an open-plan room where a motley group of art directors and copywriters were working at their computers. It wasn’t how Anita had imagined an advertising creative department. She had expected it to be noisier and more chaotic. Everyone was working quietly at their screens.

‘Do you mind if I carry on while we talk? I’ve got this urgent job that needs to be out by tonight,’ said Johansson, peering through his designer glasses as he manoeuvred some unseen element of a layout around his screen. Anita thought her spectacles had been a rip-off, so heaven knows what Johansson had paid for his.

‘Fine,’ said Anita. ‘I presume this is where you work with Jesper Poulsen?’

‘Yeah, Jesper’s up in Stockholm today. Voice-over session.’

‘So, we know your movements on the day of the Geistrand Petfoods presentation,’ said Anita as she scanned the notes that had already been taken in previous discussions, ‘...including the time after the presentation when you borrowed Elin Marklund’s car and briefly disappeared.’

‘As I’ve said before, it was to collect some work that I’d done at home.’

‘So you say.’ Anita wanted to make Johansson uneasy. The accusation was left unspoken. It certainly had the effect of making him shuffle about in his chair. Johansson was still on their list of potential suspects. He had the opportunity and some sort of motive. It was his company now, even if Dag Wollstad – or possibly Kristina Ekman – was calling the financial shots.

‘So, did you and Jesper Poulsen work together on the Geistrand Petfoods pitch? You do call it a “pitch”?’

‘Yes, we worked on the pitch.’ Johansson pointed a finger at the staff through the glass. ‘We had other creative teams involved because it was potentially a big piece of business. But Jesper and I came up with the main campaign that we presented to the client.’

‘I was wondering why Poulsen wasn’t involved in the actual pitch?’

Johansson smiled. ‘We didn’t want to go in mob-handed like other agencies. Tommy always believed that too many people just intimidate the client. We just went in with the core people that the client would be dealing with most often if we won the business.’

Anita scribbled a note on her pad. ‘Why wasn’t Poulsen at the meeting when you ran through the presentation before you left the office?’

Again a smile swept across Johansson’s face. ‘Despite the unruffled image we like to portray to the clients, ask any ad agency about a pitch and they’ll tell you that it’s often a frenzied process. People working late, the creatives desperately trying to get everything together at the last minute. There are always changes right up to the moment we rush out of the door with the work under our arms. Seat of the pants stuff. Normally, Jesper would have been at that meeting, but he was rewriting some radio commercials. The night before the pitch we were working until after midnight. And then Tommy was unhappy with some of the radio scripts and Jesper came in early the next morning to rewrite them.’

‘What time?’

‘I think he said around six.’

‘So he was the first in that morning?’

‘I was in just after seven and he was the only one about. Tommy arrived about the same time as me.’

Anita could sense Hakim sitting alertly at her side. He was thinking the same as she was - Jesper Poulsen had been all alone in the building. He was also at the celebratory drink in the evening. How had that escaped notice?

‘I hear that Poulsen and Ekman didn’t see eye to eye.’

‘Who told you that?’

‘Office gossip.’

‘Well, there was some truth in it. Jesper believes in the work we do, and isn’t afraid to fight for it. To me, that’s healthy. Sometimes Tommy found that difficult because Jesper can be very opinionated about creative work. Occasionally, Tommy could be quite savage in his criticism of our ideas. That would wind Jesper up. It’s only because both of them wanted the agency to be the best. They set high standards.’

Johansson pressed a key on his keyboard and a moment later the printer next to his desk sprang into action.

‘Did you come across Martin Olofsson?’

‘Yes. A couple of times. Meetings with Tommy.’

‘Did you know he was investigating Bo Nilsson?’

‘Not then,’ he replied. ‘I do now! That’s why Nilsson’s suspended. He’s the last person I would have suspected of nicking from the company.’

‘Where were you on the evening of Monday, 23
^rd
May?’

‘The Olofsson murder?’ He was peering at the screen.

‘Yes.’

He looked up and fidgeted in his seat again. He was either nervous or the ergonomic design wasn’t working.

‘I was here.’

‘Alone?’

‘Yes. As you can imagine, it’s been almost twenty-four/seven since Tommy... you know.’

Anita stood up and Hakim followed suit. Johansson leant over the printer and retrieved the copy he had made.

 ‘By the way, do you jog?’

Johansson pulled a face. ‘You’re kidding. Walking is bad enough. I leave daft things like that to Jesper.’

Just then Anita noticed a black backpack shoved down by Poulsen’s desk.

‘He’s a keen jogger?’

‘Fanatical. He often jogs into work in the morning from Ön. And home again at night.’

Ön was a short jog from Olofsson’s house. Anita really did need to speak to Jesper Poulsen now.

After reading Wallen’s notes, Anita was intrigued to meet Elin Marklund. They waited for her in the conference room. Hakim was fascinated by the spooling TV commercials, and squealed with delight when a humorous one came on for a well-known brand of yogurt. ‘I love that one.’

Elin Marklund appeared dressed in a short skirt and neat top. Anita was amused at Hakim’s embarrassment at the amount of leg on show. Even in these days of equality, Marklund knew what pleased male clients – and, presumably, her boss until his untimely demise. Klara Wallen had told her that Marklund had seemed very self-confident until she broken down after being confronted with her infidelity. But at that moment, there was no air of fallibility as she sat on the other side of the table and awaited Anita’s questions. Anita got her to go through the events of that day. Marklund explained about the meetings at the office, the pitch itself, coming back in Ekman’s car because Johansson had borrowed hers, and then how she had stayed in the building until the drinks in Ekman’s office that evening. Her story totally tallied with Wallen’s notes.

‘And then you know what happened.’

As Marklund told her version of events, Anita sensed that this woman liked to be in control. Her manner, her poise, her clear, precise way of talking all added to the impression. So why did she let herself be seduced by her boss? Maybe it was Tommy Ekman’s charisma. Or was she just lonely? She had been full of contrition when confronted by Wallen. Had it been genuine remorse or fear of her husband if he found out? Neither scenario seemed to fit with the confident woman on the other side of the table.

‘Your husband. What does he do?’

‘Pontus works in the oil industry. Goes all over. Middle East, America. He’s based in Canada at the moment. He’s on the security side of things.’

‘Is that why you’re not with him?’

‘Partly. He’s never in the same place for more than a year or so. And I have my own career. The arrangement works.’ Then she flashed a rueful smile. ‘Most of the time.’

‘And where were you before you joined Ekman & Johansson?’

‘At an agency in Copenhagen. The same one as Jesper Poulsen. He recommended me for the job here. Before that, I was in a small design company here in Malmö. It doesn’t exist any longer.’

‘Where were you on the evening of Monday, 23
^rd
of May?’

She looked puzzled. ‘Why?’

‘Just tell us.’

‘That’s easy, actually. I took a day’s holiday because Pontus was here on a flying visit. He had been over in Norway on business and managed to squeeze in a couple of days at home.’

‘And how did you spend that evening?’

Marklund raised an eyebrow. ‘Do you really want to know? It was his
last
night.’

Hakim couldn’t hide his blush.

The last person they saw was Sven Lundin. He was a chubby man in his forties, with a shock of brown hair. He smelt of stale cigarettes and his teeth were slightly stained with nicotine. He greeted them with a pained smile and apologized for keeping them waiting. He had been on the phone to a TV company negotiating a better rate for some client’s next campaign. Anita guessed that he had then rushed out of the building for a quick drag before facing them.

‘My colleagues have already talked to you. We know that you were in Tommy Ekman’s office for the early meeting at around eight.’

‘That’s correct,’ he said, flicking a speck of ash off his jacket sleeve. ‘Tommy, Elin and Daniel.’

‘And then you came down here to the conference room to run through the pitch. Did you go back into Ekman’s office again that day?’

He nodded his head. ‘Yes. Very briefly. I was there for literally a few minutes, as I had to dash off home reasonably early that day. My eldest daughter was in a school concert. You can’t miss those sorts of things.’

Anita felt a pang of guilt. She had failed to make some of Lasse’s school events because of work. The memories still plagued her.

‘Just one more thing. How long would you say that Daniel Johnasson was away from the office after you’d finished the presentation at Geistrand Petfoods?’

Lundin coughed. A smoker’s cough. An unpleasant, rasping sound. ‘Elin and I came back in Tommy’s car,’ he said in a flat, matter-of-fact voice, ‘And then we met here for a sandwich and to talk about our impressions of how the pitch went. It was certainly less than an hour. Forty minutes or so.’

‘Why did you go in two cars?’ Hakim asked. ‘Such a short journey.’

‘Well, Daniel and I went in Tommy’s car because Elin had to go somewhere first on the way to the pitch.’

‘Wait a minute,’ Anita exclaimed. ‘Are you saying that Elin Marklund set off first by herself?’

‘Yes,’ Lundin answered warily.

‘How much earlier?’

‘I don’t know. Half an hour.’

‘Did she say where she was going?’

‘Not that I can remember. You’d better ask her yourself.’

Anita turned to Hakim. ‘Go and find her and say we want another word.’

Hakim got up and hurried out of the room.

‘Is that all?’ Lundin asked.

‘Yes. Yes, that’s all, thank you,’ Anita said distractedly. Her mind was whirring.

As Lundin walked out of the door, Hakim re-entered. ‘She’s finished work for the day. Left ten minutes ago.’