The Demon of Dakar - Kjell Eriksson [132]
Allan Fredriksson pinched the bridge of his nose. Ottosson helped himself to a cookie. Bea stood leaning against the wall. Barbro Liljendahl was the only one who looked even moderately fresh. It was a little past eight in the evening.
God, how he munches, Sammy Nilsson thought, and watched Ottosson put yet another cookie in his mouth, followed by a sip of coffee.
“I see,” Ottosson said and stared longingly at the plate of cookies, but apparently realized that three were more than enough and sank back into the chair with a sigh. “He was a longtime addict,” he went on, “and that speaks both for and against an overdose. He should have known better.”
Barbro Liljendahl coughed.
“Yes,” Ottosson said and nodded at her. “You met with him recently, what do you have to say?”
“I don’t think he took the needle willingly,” she said.
She had been called in by Ottosson and was now participating in a case review with the violent crimes unit for the first time.
“He seemed completely free of drugs when we met last. Granted, he still had some of the drug addicts’ mannerisms, but if I were to guess I don’t think he was an active user. This is also the picture I got when I went around with questions. One detail that may be of interest is that Rosenberg never used to do cocaine. He kept to amphetamines. This may of course be a contributing factor in the overdose. He may simply have been unused to cocaine.”
“Maybe he had a relapse?” Nilsson said, and his eyes lit up momentarily. “He was feeling under pressure; then it’s easy to turn to something comforting, like when we pour ourselves a drink.”
Bea sighed.
“Well, what do you do? Eat a carrot?”
“Lay off!”
Ottosson broke in before Sammy had time to reply. “We know that Rosenberg had contact with Slobodan. Barbro has established this and Ann has made similar observations, among others noting the fact that Konrad was a customer at Dakar. Barbro’s investigation also indicates that he was aquainted with Sidström. He was stabbed in a drug-related context. Why haven’t we yet nabbed the perpetrator, that young man from Sävja?”
“He’s gone into hiding,” Barbro Liljendahl said. “There’s information indicating that he has been seen in Gottsunda, but it hasn’t been verified yet. Apparently he’s scared. I have questioned his friend, Patrik Willman, and he claims that Zero is terrified of his brothers, perhaps also that a friend of Sidström will take revenge. The funny thing in this context is that Willman’s mother is a waitress at Dakar.”
“Now that’s interesting,” Sammy Nilsson said.
“Eva Willman appears to be a reasonable woman,” Liljendahl went on, “and I don’t think she has anything to do with drugs. She’s simply happy to have a job.”
“A coincidence, in other words,” Ottosson said, but looked doubtful.
“Who would want to see Rosenberg dead?”
Bea’s question hovered in the air. Ottosson reached for another cookie. Sammy Nilsson scratched his head and yawned. Barbro Liljendahl hesitated, but when no one else spoke she tossed out her theory that it was Dakar’s owner, Slobodan Andersson, who had had his henchman Rosenberg murdered, that the latter had potentially been involved in the murder of Armas and that the overdose had perhaps been an act of revenge, or alternatively, a way of silencing a compromising witness to drug dealings.
“Too bad Ann isn’t here,” Ottosson said when Liljendahl had finished. She went bright red and mumbled something about these simply being ideas.
“As good as anything else,” Ottosson said, “But we will have to wait until forensics is done with the apartment and Rosenberg’s car. What is the situation with the immediate family? Have they been notified?”
Bea nodded.
“Good,” Ottosson said. “Then we continued tomorrow morning, but if you can, Barbro, I would like you and Sammy to drop in on that Turkish boy in Sävja tonight, if that is possible.”
“What does that mean?” Sammy said, obviously displeased at the prospect of putting in even more