Växjö’s silent aria - Part 02 #novelette by Thanos Kalamidas

The morning light filtered through the blinds in Mikael Hansson’s office, casting sharp lines across his desk. He sat staring at the sparse notes they had on Anna Karlsson’s death, his mind running in circles. The media frenzy was already picking up steam; the “Nightingale Murder” was the top story on every local station. But the puzzle pieces weren’t fitting together yet.

The soft knock on his door pulled Mikael from his thoughts. Alma stepped in, her face pale but composed.

“I know you’re busy, Mikael, but I think I need to tell you more about Anna,” she said, settling into the chair opposite him. “She deserves that much.”

Mikael leaned forward, resting his elbows on the desk. Alma hesitated, wringing her hands. “Anna’s life wasn’t what it seemed. She told me last night how much she struggled after Magnus left her. He didn’t just take her money... well ...he took her confidence. And she…she never really recovered. But I told you that yesterday...”

Mikael frowned. “We are talking about Magnus Ekström, the ex-husband, aren’t we? I’ve never actually met him. Only heard of him and that mostly from you. What more do you know about him?”

“Not much, only what Anna shared. He was charming when they first met, a smooth-talking music producer. But once they were married, he became controlling, manipulative. She said he drained her bank accounts, sold off her properties, and then left her to pick up the pieces.” Alma’s voice dropped. “She still blamed him for everything, even years later.”

Mikael nodded, jotting down notes. “Do you think he could have any reason to come back into her life? Money, perhaps?”

“Maybe,” Alma admitted. “But Anna was also dealing with...other issues. After Magnus, she started drinking heavily. And she had this pattern of getting involved with younger men. It wasn’t love; I think it was her way of trying to feel wanted again.”

Mikael tapped his pen against his notebook, his thoughts darkening. “Younger men. Any names?”

“Not specifically,” Alma said. “But last night, when we were talking, she kept glancing at the bar. Like she was expecting someone to show up. That’s what I didn’t tell you Mikael...”

“Why?” He felt surprised. “I was ashamed of my friend...” Alma whispered and Mikael nodded understanding the sentiment. Some of his friend had often made him feel the same in the past.

After Alma left his office, Mikael decided to start with the Elite Stadshotellet. The hotel manager, a stout man with sharp eyes, met him in the lobby.

“Inspector Hansson, thank you for coming,” the manager said, extending a hand. “Terrible business, what happened to Ms. Karlsson.”

Mikael nodded curtly. “I need to see your security footage from last night. And I’d like to speak to your staff. Particularly anyone who interacted with Ms. Karlsson.”

“Of course, of course,” the manager said, leading Mikael to the security room.

The footage showed Anna entering the bar around 9 p.m., dressed in an elegant burgundy gown. She ordered a drink and took a seat at the far end of the counter. Thirty minutes later, a young man joined her, a striking figure in his mid-twenties, with sharp features and a restless energy.

“Do you know who he is?” Mikael asked the manager, pointing at the screen.

The man shook his head. “No, but I can find out. He wasn’t a registered guest. Ms. Karlsson often requested privacy for her visitors, so we didn’t question it.”

The footage showed the man and Anna exchanging words. At first friendly, then heated. The man stood abruptly, knocking over his chair, and stormed out of the bar. Anna remained seated, her expression a mixture of anger and resignation.

“What time was this?” Mikael asked.

“Ten thirty-five,” the manager replied.

“Did she return to her room after this?”

“Yes. Alone.”

Mikael’s next stop was the morgue. The sterile white walls and the faint smell of disinfectant greeted him as the medical examiner, Dr. Sigrid Wahlgren, handed him the preliminary report.

“The cause of death was strangulation,” she said, gesturing to the body on the table. “The bruising patterns indicate a cord or a scarf, but the killer used gloves—no fingerprints.”

Mikael examined the markings on Anna’s neck, his stomach churning. “Any signs of a struggle?”

“None,” Sigrid replied. “It’s possible she knew her killer and didn’t see the attack coming until it was too late. There’s also something else.”

She handed Mikael a small plastic bag containing a fragment of paper. “We found this in her hand. It’s torn, but you can make out part of a phone number and the word ‘danger.’”

Mikael’s jaw tightened. “Have you been able to trace the number?”

“We’re working on it,” Sigrid said.