Linda, As in the Linda Murder

84

On Wednesday morning Bengt Månsson was formally charged by the Växjö District Court on the suspicion of murdering Linda Wallin. The definitive report that it was his DNA that had been found at the crime scene had arrived from the National Forensics Lab the previous day. Despite this, Månsson vehemently denied through his lawyer that he had murdered her. He had no comment except that he was innocent and that the entire situation was completely incomprehensible to him. Anna Holt had consciously chosen to stay away from the legal proceedings. For her, it was all about not jeopardizing the trust that she was trying to establish. Månsson shouldn’t have to see her in an uncomfortable setting. On the contrary, he should be free to think that she was staying away because she didn’t quite believe what the others were saying about him. It was no more complicated than that.

‘He asked about you, actually,’ the prosecutor said afterwards.

‘Good,’ Holt said. ‘I was hoping he might.’

After lunch she went up and collected him herself, and asked if he would mind a young female colleague of hers sitting in on the interview. ‘But if you’d rather not, we can leave it,’ she said quickly when she saw the flash of doubt in his eyes.

‘No, it’s fine,’ Månsson said, shaking his head. ‘If it’s okay with you, it’s okay with me.’

‘Okay, that’s that, then,’ Holt said.

The session lasted three hours, and Lisa Mattei only said five sentences in all that time. Before the interview started Månsson had suddenly directed a question at her. ‘This probably sounds really weird, but are you really a police officer?’

‘Yes.’ Lisa Mattei smiled even more warmly than Holt. ‘But you’re not the first person to ask.’

‘You really don’t look like a police officer, if you know what I mean.’

‘I know. I think it’s because I just sit and read loads of files all day. But sometimes I get to sit and listen as well.’

‘Tell me about your relationship with Linda,’ Anna Holt began. Linda Wallin had just turned eighteen, Bengt Månsson was thirty-two, but Holt had no intention of breathing a word about the age gap. Not yet. Next week, maybe, if things went the way she hoped.

He didn’t really think you could call it a relationship. There were too many differences between them. They had just spent time together. Maybe twenty times in three years. More often at the start, less frequently later on. The last time he saw her was early in the spring when she called him to say she’d broken up with her boyfriend. But, sure, he had liked Linda. A lot, actually, and if he was completely honest, then he’d probably been a bit in love with her for a while. At least at the start, but what with one thing and another he’d never told her.

‘I get the distinct impression that Linda must have been very fond of you as well,’ Holt said.

That was doubtless the case, Månsson agreed, and it only made things more problematic given the circumstances. On one occasion she had even told him that she had written about him in her journal. He stopped speaking suddenly, and Holt saw the same flash in his eyes as when she had asked if Lisa Mattei could sit in on the interview.

‘I know. I know how much she liked you, but there’s something else I was wondering about,’ Holt said, wanting to get away from the journal as quickly as possible. ‘I’ve been a bit reluctant to mention it before, but I suppose the worst that can happen is that you object and we talk about something else instead.’

‘Oh?’ Månsson said. Hesitant and watchful, all of a sudden.

‘Well, of course it isn’t a secret exactly, but I get the impression that you’re fairly experienced when it comes to women.’ Holt shrugged her shoulders. ‘Very experienced, even,’ she said with a smile.

Månsson understood what Holt meant, but he didn’t like the expression. Experienced was a hard, cynical word. To his ear, it was almost synonymous with worn out. Månsson liked women. He had always found it easy to talk to women, socialize with women, just be with women. In fact he had never had any close male friends, and he had never really missed them. But, yes. He had been with a number of women over the years, if that was what Holt was wondering. He liked women, he felt good when he was with women. Women made him happy, cheered him up and made him feel secure, basically, and that was pretty much all there was to it.

‘I don’t think it sounds the slightest bit odd,’ Anna Holt agreed. ‘I understand exactly what you mean, but I suppose I’m just wondering about Linda.’

‘You mean that she couldn’t have been particularly experienced at sex?’ Månsson said.

‘Exactly. It’s the sex I’m after. I mean, when you had sex together, you and Linda.’

Entirely normal sex, according to Månsson, and that wasn’t the slightest problem with someone like Linda, considering his feelings for her and hers for him.

‘Normal, vanilla sex,’ Holt summarized.

‘When we were together, it was like when you’re with someone you like a lot, someone you respect,’ Månsson said. ‘But sure, normal vanilla sex if you prefer to put it like that.’

What about all the others, Holt wondered. Everyone he’d been with, who’d been far more experienced than Linda Wallin — had that still just been normal vanilla sex?

Not always, according to Månsson, but as long as it was a matter of voluntary, mutually agreed behaviour between responsible adults, surely there was nothing wrong with that? Not if it was something they both wanted and as long as nobody got hurt. ‘Take a look at any sexual advice column in any ordinary newspaper, and you’ll see what I mean,’ he said.

‘I understand exactly,’ Holt said. ‘Besides, that isn’t the reason why you’re sitting here talking to me.’

‘How do you mean?’

‘What you just said, about mutually agreed behaviour between responsible adults. I agree with you entirely. What business is that of mine? After all, that’s your private life. Look, why don’t we stop now and carry on tomorrow? We’ve actually been sitting here more than three hours.’

‘Thanks for letting me sit in,’ Lisa Mattei said, smiling at Bengt Månsson. ‘It was actually really interesting. I mean, what you said about being experienced and being worn out. I thought that was pretty well put, actually.’

‘Well, thank you,’ Månsson said.

‘Well? What did you think about my little Bengt Axel, then?’ Holt asked as soon as she and Mattei were alone.

‘Not my type,’ Lisa Mattei said. ‘Mind you, I’m probably not his type either,’ she added with a shrug of the shoulders.

‘So who is his type?’

‘Everyone, if we’re to believe him.’

‘But in your opinion?’

‘No one apart from himself,’ Lisa Mattei said, shaking her head. ‘If you were to rewrite the interview and replace women with food, for instance, you’d see what I mean. A binge eater. That’s what he is.’

‘Anything else?’

‘The journal,’ Mattei said. ‘The one that everyone seems to think Linda’s dad is hiding.’

‘So what do we do about that, assuming it’s true?’

‘Well, obviously Linda’s dad has hidden it. We’re never going to get hold of it, but Månsson evidently suspects that you’ve already read it — it was clever how you did that, by the way — so it might be just as well that we don’t. His lawyer would want to look at it.’

‘So what’s he so worried about, then?’

‘Anna,’ Mattei said with a sigh. ‘You know perfectly well what he’s worried about.’

‘That Linda’s journal isn’t just about vanilla sex,’ Holt said.

‘There, you see?’ Mattei said. ‘And you’re talking to someone who’s hardly even had vanilla sex. What do you need me for, really?’