The Cruel Stars of the Night

Thirty-seven

The forensics department found no fingerprints on the chess piece that had been removed from Allan Fredriksson’s coat. Ottosson had not expected there to be any, but he still sighed heavily when he received the news. He put down the receiver, then immediately lifted it and rang Ola Haver.

“Has he woken up?”

He listened to Haver with growing concern. Admittedly Fredriksson’s neck and spine injuries were not as serious as they had initially feared but he was still basically unreachable.

“Have they operated on the arm?”

“They’re waiting,” Haver said. “He has to be stable first, they say. There’s no bleeding in the brain but he has a severe concussion and from what I can understand the brain swells up. They may operate tonight.”

“Has he said anything about the chess piece?”

“He’s talking a lot of nonsense,” Haver said in a quiet voice, “but from what I can tell he’s been at Andersson’s in Alsike. Wasn’t Sammy going to go out there and check?”

“He called in,” Ottosson said and Haver could hear in his voice that he was feeling under pressure. “He didn’t find any other pieces, nor a chessboard.”

“It seems a bit mysterious to only have one chess piece, don’t you think?”

“You could say that. Säpo-Jern, Morenius, and Fritte the DA have been here,” Ottosson said. “They’re starting to get good and nervous. Silvia is arriving tomorrow.”

“What do you think?”

“I’m as lost as all the others,” Ottosson admitted.

“What does Ann say?”

“I don’t know. She’s disappeared.”

“How do you mean?”

“I’ve called but she doesn’t answer.”

“She’s probably having a cup of tea at the Savoy,” Haver said, grinning.

“Perhaps,” Ottosson said. “Give my greetings to Allan.”

They wrapped up the conversation and Haver promised to call as soon as Fredriksson said anything of interest.

The big machine had been set in motion and that made Ottosson depressed. The decision had been made to reinforce the security around Silvia. On top of this she was not going to get to Uppsala by car, as previously planned. Instead she was going to land on the roof of the 85-building at the Academic Hospital and thereafter be escorted to the oncology division, and return the same way. Dinner at the castle had been cancelled and the governor was upset. He had been looking forward to hosting the queen. Now he had been cheated out of the prize of getting some positive press, for once.

The decision had been made at the National Police Heaquarters. A superintendent whose name Ottosson had repressed had called and briefly conveyed the news. A crisis group, with representatives from all thinkable areas, had been assembled and taken over. The national security force had been called in. Uppsala would for one day be a besieged city. All this on account of a recovered chess piece.

Ottosson knew he should go down to the large conference room, where a meeting was underway, but lingered in his office.

Perhaps the right decision had been made, perhaps it was an overre-action. At least the police chief had expressed his relief. Ottosson thought this mostly stemmed from the fact that he no longer had to shoulder responsibility for the state visit and Ottosson felt a similar relief. Others would take over.

As long as Fredriksson gets well, he thought, and slowly rose from the chair and walked out into the corridor where he immediately bumped into Berglund and Modin from Criminal Investigations.

“Have you seen Ann?” Ottosson asked.

Berglund shook his head. Ottosson kept walking. He heard Modin talking about bomb-sniffing dogs.

Instead of going to the conference room he went down to the cafeteria in hopes of finding Ann there. Ottosson had had the impression the last few days that she was unusually distracted. He was used to her shifting emotional states-it could be a roller-coaster ride in the space of one hour-but Ottosson knew her so well that he realized this time it was something out of the ordinary.

She no longer had the same spark. Ottosson thought there were problems with Erik and had cautiously asked some questions. But Ann had assured him that everything was great and the way her face lit up when she spoke about Erik made Ottosson believe her.

Was it the chess angle, that Lindell had so loudly and categorically dismissed, that had created this visible dissatisfaction in her and her almost deliberate inability to cooperate?

Suddenly it hit him: it was love. Ottosson smiled broadly and some uniformed police officers gave him curious looks.

Obviously he had heard the talk going around the station: Lindell had been seen at the movies and on the town. Sammy Nilsson had also said something about the new technician, Morgansson. He and Lindell had been spotted outside a restaurant together. Ottosson thought that was less positive-police couples were not exactly an ideal combination.

He took out his cell phone and called her again. No answer.