Night Rounds

Chapter 19

SVERKER LÖWANDER MIGHT have felt mentally recharged after his squash match, but he didn’t look all that physically refreshed. Tommy and Irene had arrived at exactly 8:00 A.M., and they were now sitting in his office at Löwander Hospital.

“Carina said you’d visited her yesterday. Sorry I wasn’t home. I’ve started to get back to exercising again. I feel I really need it. Time to return to my routines.” Sverker’s voice faded, and he looked down at his hands, which were folded and resting on his desk.

“We just have a few follow-up questions for you,” Tommy said.

“That’s fine.”

Tommy wore his most innocent look; Irene knew that he was going to cut to the chase. “Why did Linda have your cell-phone number in her day planner?”

It was obvious that Löwander didn’t expect the question but was doing his best to maintain an impassive expression. “I’ve already explained that.”

“It would be better if you explained it again,” Tommy said in a friendly but unyielding manner.

“It happened last fall. I was at a seminar at Hotel Gothia, and I gave Linda my cell phone because one of my patients wasn’t doing well. She was working that day.”

“Wouldn’t it have been more logical for her to jot it down in the department’s phone book?” Tommy objected.

Löwander shrugged. “Maybe so. But she didn’t.”

“You never saw where she wrote it down?”

“No.”

“We have traced a phone call from your cell phone to Linda Svensson the evening of February tenth. It was recorded at six thirty-five P.M.”

Sverker Löwander rubbed both eyes hard before he replied. “I’d forgotten that completely. Things were crazy after we found Marianne. And then when Linda.… I’d forgotten that.” He took a deep breath before he continued. “It concerned the snafu with Nils Peterzén’s medical paperwork. It wasn’t there the morning of his surgery. I was searching for it and asked Linda about it in case she’d seen it somewhere on the ward. It was in the secretary’s office. I was able to glance through it as I headed up to operate. Of course I should have read it more thoroughly. His vitals weren’t good. He should have been seen by a lung specialist before we operated. His blood results and oxygen rate hadn’t been included in the charts.…” He sighed heavily. Then he turned his hypnotic green eyes toward Irene and said, his voice pleading, “Nils Peterzén seemed to be in good shape. He was optimistic and in an upbeat mood. He even joked on the way to surgery. He didn’t want to put off the operation.”

Sverker fell silent and looked morosely at the two officers. “After he took a turn for the worse that evening, we got the acute readings regarding his blood gases. Of course they were abysmal. I was worried and wanted to know what the original levels had been. I couldn’t find the record anywhere. Nurse Ellen had the evening shift, but she hadn’t seen his chart that day. Then I called Nurse Linda, but she hadn’t seen those values on Peterzén either.”

“So she was home when you called.”

“Yes.”

“How did she seem to you?”

“What do you mean?”

“Was she happy? Tense? Worried?”

Sverker looked doubtful as he answered. “I didn’t notice anything unusual. She seemed her normal self. But I had other things on my mind.”

“So you’re worried that the reason Nils Peterzén died was really your own carelessness.”

Löwander sank lower into his chair and nodded reluctantly.

“Do you remember when Carina began to talk about her idea for the fitness center?” Tommy asked.

Sverker looked surprised. “Yes, last Christmas. Why?”

“Did you lend her your master key so that she could search for the architectural plans of the hospital?”

“Yes.”

“When did she return them?”

Löwander wrinkled his brow as he thought. “Don’t know for sure. Sometime before New Year’s Eve. I came here, too, to look through the building before we headed off to Thailand on vacation. We celebrated my fiftieth birthday in Phuket.”

“When did you leave?”

“On New Year’s Eve. We returned on January thirteenth.”

“Did you want to avoid a big party with family and friends?” Irene asked.

Sverker smiled. “No, they all came over the following weekend. You can’t escape a fiftieth birthday.”

“Did you go into the attic when you searched the building before your trip?” Tommy asked.

“No, there wasn’t any reason to go there. Nothing to see.”

“So there was no indication anyone got into the hospital building while it was closed?”

“No, only Carina, but I knew that already, of course.”

For the moment it looked as if nothing more could come out of this interview. The police officers stood up and thanked the doctor for his time. Then Irene was struck by a thought. “Does your ex-wife, Barbro, know that you’re going to shut the hospital?”

Sverker looked at her quizzically. “No, why would she know that? We’re not in touch at all, especially after John and Julia moved to the United States.”

“Do you have contact with your children?”

“Of course,” he replied tersely.

“Do you think that she might have heard from them about Carina’s plans to start a fitness center?”

For the first time during their conversation, Sverker looked irritated. “No, they hardly talk to her. Why are you asking these kinds of questions anyway?”

“Just a thought. Barbro has tried to throw suspicion on you and Carina before. Like the time when the mansion burned down.”

“We didn’t take that seriously. Nobody believed her. It was clear that she wasn’t in her right mind. Barbro would never hurt a fly.”

That might depend on how strong her desire for revenge is, Irene thought.

IRENE AND TOMMY swung by the ICU to have a chat with Nurse Anna-Karin.

“I believe she’s hiding something,” Tommy said.

“Why do you think that?” Irene asked.

“Just experience and a cop’s nose.”

They decided they’d bring her to the police station if she didn’t cooperate about what she knew.

When they pressed the door opener to the ICU, nothing happened. The door stayed shut. Tommy knocked hard, and they could hear approaching footsteps.

“Who is it?” a voice called.

It wasn’t Anna-Karin’s voice but that of a somewhat older woman.

“Inspectors Huss and Persson,” Tommy said.

The door was opened carefully. The elderly nurse introduced herself as Margot.

“We’re looking for Anna-Karin,” Tommy said in his friendliest voice.

“Anna-Karin isn’t working today. There aren’t any operations planned, so she took the day off.”

Not what they expected to hear.

“Do you know where we can find her?”

Margot smiled conspiratorially and lowered her voice. “I believe she’s found herself a boyfriend. It’s a new relationship. I’m not supposed to tell anyone, but since you’re police officers.… He lives in Varberg.”

“Varberg? Do you know where?”

“No, but I think her friend is a teacher. Or somebody who works in a school. Maybe he’s a principal. No, I really don’t remember. Why are you in such a hurry to find Anna-Karin? Nothing else … horrible has happened, has it?”

“No, we’re not in a rush. We can talk to her tomorrow,” Tommy said.

Something occurred to Irene. “If she didn’t go to Varberg, maybe she’s at home. Could we have her address?”

“Sure. I have it written down in here.” Nurse Margot walked over to her desk and opened the bottom drawer. She took out a black address book similar to the one at the reception desk. “Here’s her apartment on Munkebäcksgatan. She is subletting it from someone. And here’s her phone number.”

The nurse handed the slip of paper to Irene, who immediately asked if she could borrow the phone. She dialed the number on the slip. The phone rang, but no one answered. A shadow of worry passed over the elderly nurse’s face.

“If she hasn’t gone shopping in town, then she must be in Varberg,” Irene said, giving the nurse a soothing smile.

As soon as the heavy ICU door closed behind them, Irene turned to Tommy and said softly, “Let’s get to Munkebäcksgatan right away.”

THE REDBRICK, FOUR-STORY building appeared peaceful. The keypad at the entrance was broken, so all they had to do was push open the door and go right in. They found Anna-Karin’s apartment on the second floor. She’d written her name on a bit of surgical tape and stuck it over the nameplate. They rang the worn-out doorbell a number of times, but no one answered. Irene opened the mail flap and glanced inside. She could see a number of advertising flyers on the floor inside.

“She’s not home,” Irene said.

“I WAS SURPRISED how freely Löwander admitted his medical mistake in the case of Nils Peterzén but how close-mouthed he was about Linda and his ex-wife,” Tommy said. They were driving back to the station in the squad car.

“You think? I bet that his mistake about Peterzén has been eating him up inside and he needed someone to talk to about it.”

“He doesn’t need to worry about the police as much as he has to worry about the National Board of Health and Welfare, that’s for sure. But listen to yourself. You’re trying to defend Löwander’s behavior. I’d guess that women often are willing to make excuses for that guy.”

“You do?” Irene said weakly. She’d been thinking about Birgitta’s comment that some people were born to be monogamous. Now she also thought about Tommy’s words, and something began to stir deep in her mind.

THAT AFTERNOON BOTH Tommy and Irene spent planted squarely in front of their computers catching up on paperwork, lost in concentration.

“There must be a common motive for all three murders,” Irene said. “We just haven’t figured it out yet.”

She paused in her typing and watched Tommy peck away with his one-finger method. His only reply was, “Hmm.”

“We’ve got to get Anna-Karin to talk. I just know she’s sitting on something big.”

“Hmm.”

Irene gave up and went back to her typing.

THAT EVENING THE town house was filled with the wonderful smell of crispy fried fillets of flounder and mashed potatoes. Jenny was enjoying a bowl of lentil soup and eating a side dish of raw carrots. Krister dipped his spoon into Jenny’s bowl for a taste.

“Well, it’s edible,” he declared. “But I don’t think it tastes all that great.”

“Nothing should lose its life for my meals,” Jenny pronounced.

“Did you hear that vegetables scream when you harvest them?” Katarina asked, a mischievous look on her face.

“They do not,” Jenny replied.

“They sure do. Russian scientists have proved it. They’ve measured—”

“Katarina, cut it out,” Krister ordered.

Both daughters shut up and stared at their father. He seldom became angry, but once he did, they knew to watch out.

Irene was grateful that her husband had stopped that particular argument in its tracks. She had no illusions about Jenny. If she began to feel sorry for vegetables, she might just stop eating them, too. And once she’d stopped eating vegetables because the poor things screamed when harvested, she would starve to death. There were limits to what parents could put up with.