Girl Who Kicked the Hornets Nest, The - Stieg Larsson [110]
The problem with Niedermann was that he had no friends, no girlfriend, no listed mobile, and he had never been in prison.
The inquiries had concentrated on finding Göransson’s car, which Niedermann was presumed to be using. They had expected the car to turn up in a matter of days, probably in some car park in Stockholm. But there was as yet no sign of it.
“If he’s out of the country, where would he be?”
“He’s a German citizen, so the obvious thing would be for him to head for Germany.”
“He seems not to have had any contact with his old friends in Hamburg.”
Andersson waved his hand. “If his plan was to go to Germany … Why would he drive to Stockholm? Shouldn’t he have made for Malmö and the bridge to Copenhagen, or for one of the ferries?”
“I know. And Inspector Erlander in Göteborg has been focusing his search in that direction from day one. The Danish police have been informed about Göransson’s car, and we know for sure that he didn’t take any of the ferries.”
“But he did drive to Stockholm and to Svavelsjö, and there he murdered the club’s treasurer and – we may assume – went off with an unspecified sum of money. What would his next step be?”
“He has to get out of Sweden,” Bublanski said. “The most obvious thing would be to take one of the ferries across the Baltic. But Göransson and his girlfriend were murdered late on the night of April 9. Niedermann could have taken the ferry the next morning. We got the alarm roughly sixteen hours after they died, and we’ve had an A.P.B. out on the car ever since.”
“If he took the morning ferry, then Göransson’s car would have been parked at one of the ports,” Modig said.
“Perhaps we haven’t found the car because Niedermann drove out of the country to the north via Haparanda? A big detour around the Gulf of Bothnia, but in sixteen hours he could have been in Finland.”
“Sure, but soon after he would have had to abandon the car in Finland, and it should have been found by now.”
They sat in silence. Finally Bublanski got up and stood at the window.
“Could he have found a hiding place where he’s just lying low, a summer cabin or—”
“I don’t think it would be a summer cabin. This time of year every cabin owner is out checking their property.”
“And he wouldn’t try anywhere connected to Svavelsjö M.C. They’re the last people he’d want to run into.”
“And the entire underworld should be excluded as well … Any girlfriend we don’t know about?”
They could speculate, but they had no facts.
When Andersson had left for the day, Modig went back to Bublanski’s office and knocked on the door jamb. He waved her in.
“Have you got a couple of minutes?” she said.
“What’s up?”
“Salander. I don’t like this business with Ekström and Faste and a new trial. You’ve read Björck’s report. I’ve read Björck’s report. Salander was unlawfully committed in 1991 and Ekström knows it. What the hell is going on?”
Bublanski took off his reading glasses and tucked them into his breast pocket. “I don’t know.”
“Have you got any idea at all?”
“Ekström claims that Björck’s report and the correspondence with Teleborian were falsified.”
“That’s rubbish. If it were a fake, then Björck would have said so when we brought him in.”
“Ekström says Björck refused to discuss it, on the grounds that it was Top Secret. I was given a dressing down because I jumped the gun and brought him in.”
“I’m beginning to have strong reservations about Ekström.”
“He’s getting squeezed from all sides.”
“That’s no excuse.”
“We don’t have a monopoly on the truth, Sonja. Ekström says he’s received evidence that the report is a fake – that there is no real report with that protocol number. He also says that the forgery is a good one and that the content is a clever blend of truth and fantasy.”
“Which part was truth and which part was fantasy, that’s what I need to know,