Back at the station, Mikael’s team was piecing together Anna’s phone records. One number appeared repeatedly in the days leading up to her death. An unregistered prepaid phone.
“Burner phone,” Mikael muttered. “Typical for someone trying to stay off the radar.”
He turned to his colleague, Anders, the station’s IT. “Anders, I need you to find out who owns that phone. It’s our best lead right now.”
Later the same evening, Alma called Mikael at the station.
“I remembered something,” she said. “Anna mentioned someone named Emil. She didn’t say much, just that he was...persistent. Do you think it’s connected?”
“Emil,” Mikael repeated, scribbling the name. “I’ll look into it. Thanks, Alma.”
He hung up and instructed his team to cross-reference the name Emil with known associates of Anna Karlsson.
By the next morning, Mikael had a name: Emil Nyström, a twenty-six-year-old aspiring singer who had recently performed at a local competition. Witnesses from the hotel bar confirmed that Emil was the man seen arguing with Anna.
Mikael tracked Emil to a modest apartment on the outskirts of Växjö.
The door opened to reveal a dishevelled Emil, his eyes bloodshot and his demeanour defensive.
“Police? What do you want?” Emil asked in a boorish way while standing at the door and crossing his arms in front of him
“I’m investigating the death of Anna Karlsson,” Mikael said, stepping past him and into the apartment uninvited. “You were seen with her the night she died.”
Emil paled. “I didn’t kill her, if that’s what you’re thinking.”
“Then explain why you were arguing with her at the bar,” Mikael said, his voice sharp.
Emil hesitated, running a hand through his hair. “She owed me money. A lot of it. I’ve been trying to get her to pay me back for weeks, but she kept brushing me off.”
“What kind of money are we talking about?”
“Fifty thousand kronor,” Emil said bitterly. “She promised to help me with my career. She said she’d invest in my first album. But then she just...blew me off. I got angry, but I didn’t hurt her. I swear.”
Mikael studied Emil’s face, noting the flicker of fear in his eyes. “Where were you after you left the bar?”
“I came home,” Emil said. “Alone.”
“Anyone who can confirm that?” Emil shook his head.
“Then, Mr Nyström, you are coming with us.” Mikael said looking hard into the man’s eyes.
Back at the station, Mikael was conflicted. Emil had motive, but his behaviour didn’t scream “killer.” The case was growing murkier, with more questions than answers.
As Mikael sifted through the evidence again, a new thought struck him: What if the murder wasn’t about revenge or money? What if it was about silencing Anna?
He stared at the torn note from her hand, the word danger etched into his mind. Whatever Anna had been afraid of, it had found her.
No comments:
Post a Comment