The killer's art

53

On Monday morning, Knutas arrived at police headquarters early; it was only six thirty. The weekend had provided a much-needed respite from the investigative work. On the other hand, he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about Karin, so he had discussed the matter with Lina. She thought he needed to do something dramatic if he wanted to keep Karin on the force. Over a few glasses of wine on Saturday evening, while the children were watching a song contest on TV, they had come up with a solution. It wasn’t going to be popular, but that couldn’t be helped. He felt confident about his decision, and he was prepared to weather whatever storm would come. He’d discussed the idea with the county police commissioner on Sunday, and she had accepted the reasons for his proposal.

One thing that Jacobsson and Knutas had in common was that they were both morning people. He’d been at work only half an hour and was putting together a draft for his plan when he heard Karin’s light footsteps in the corridor. He asked her to come into his office.

‘Sure,’ she said happily. ‘I’ve found out some really interesting things over the weekend, and I can’t wait to tell you about them.’

‘All right, but that can wait,’ he said dismissively as she sat down in his visitor’s chair. ‘There’s something else we need to talk about first.’

‘OK.’ Jacobsson gave him an inquisitive look.

‘I don’t want you to resign, Karin. You know that. So I have an offer to make. You don’t have to answer right now; take some time to think about it, and then let me know sometime this week whether you accept my proposal or not. OK?’

‘Of course.’ Jacobsson looked both nervous and full of anticipation.

‘I want you to be the assistant superintendent for the criminal division. Meaning my deputy. One day, when I retire, I want you to take my place. This police station has never had a woman detective superintendent, and it’s certainly about time.’

‘But-’

‘No, no, I have no plans to retire. But I’m at an age when ten more years on the job will be the maximum. And besides, Lina has been telling me that she wants to try working on the mainland in a few years, and I’m open to the idea. If she decides to do that, I’ll move over there with her. We have more freedom now the children are older. I want a deputy I can trust completely. And you’re the only one, Karin.’

She gave him a bewildered look. Her expression had changed from nervousness to surprise to astonishment. The tell-tale red spots had appeared on her throat. She opened her mouth as if to speak.

‘No, Karin, please don’t say anything right now. The only thing I ask is that you think it over. And let me also say something about the salary. Of course you’ll receive a significant pay increase, and we can discuss that in greater detail if you decide to accept the offer. But just so you have some idea what you’re looking at, it would be at least seven thousand kronor more per month, plus you’d be attending a number of courses in management skills, and so on. And you should know that I have the full support of the county police commissioner. She would like to see you as assistant superintendent.’

‘But Lars…’

‘Lars Norrby is my problem, not yours, Karin. So I hope you’ll consider the offer.’

Karin nodded mutely.

‘Good,’ said Knutas, relieved to have the conversation out of the way. He got up and went over to stand at the window, not daring to look at her. Neither of them spoke for a moment.

‘Shall I tell you what I found out?’ she asked.

‘Yes, tell me.’

‘This weekend I checked out the connection between Nils Dardel and Muramaris. The original of the sculpture that was found at Waldemarsudde after the theft happens to stand in the garden at Muramaris, and I wanted to find out whether Dardel had any links to the place.’

‘Smart thinking,’ murmured Knutas.

‘But I found out something else. Listen to this,’ said Jacobsson eagerly. She leaned forward and gave him an intent look. ‘Did you know that Dardel was homosexual?’

‘I’d heard that mentioned, yes. But wasn’t he married?’

‘Yes, he married Thora Klinckowstrom, and they had a daughter, Ingrid. Dardel had several serious relationships with women. For example, he was secretly engaged to Nita Wallenberg before he met Thora. But their engagement was broken off because her father didn’t think Dardel would make a proper son-in-law. Even back then, rumours were raging about his alcoholism, homosexuality and decadent tendencies. That was in 1917, when he was twenty-nine years old. But at the same time that he fell in love with women, he was in love with men. Dardel had a long-lasting and relatively open homosexual relationship with his friend and patron Rolf de Mare, the only son of Duchess Wilhelmina von Hallwyl’s daughter, Ellen.’

‘Is that right? But what do Dardel’s sexual inclinations have to do with Gotland?’ Knutas sounded tired. This news was not as exciting as he had hoped.

Jacobsson’s eyes were shining. It wasn’t hard to see that she was interested in the artist’s life. ‘Well, there’s more. Do you know anything about Wilhelmina von Hallwyl — the archduchess with the Hallwyl palace in Stockholm?’

‘No, I’ve never heard of her before.’

‘The palace is on Hamngatan, right across from Bern’s Restaurant and Berzelii Park — you know, next to Norrmalmstorg. A fantastic place. Duchess Wilhelmina von Hallwyl was fabulously wealthy, and she devoted her life to collecting things that are now on display there: art, silver, oriental porcelain and ceramics. I think there are close to five thousand objects, and she donated both her home and the collection to the state. You really should go there the next time you’re in Stockholm,’ said Jacobsson enthusiastically. ‘But this is where the story gets really unbelievable. Duchess von Hallwyl had four daughters, and one of them was Ellen, who married a top military officer, Henrik de Mare. They had a son, Rolf, and they moved to Berlin because Henrik was the military attache there. The son needed a tutor, and so Ellen hired a young man named Johnny Roosval. Now it so happened that Ellen and Johnny fell in love. He was twelve years younger than her and a complete nobody, while she was part of high society and from a noble family. All the elements for a classic drama. Ellen defied convention; she got divorced from her military husband and married the young Johnny Roosval!’

Jacobsson clapped her hands in delight, while Knutas still looked puzzled.

‘OK, but what about Gotland?’ he said wearily.

‘Yes, I know. We’re getting to that. Naturally the whole thing caused a big scandal — bear in mind that this was around 1910! The archduchess Wilhelmina von Hallwyl broke off all contact with her daughter and took her grandson, Rolf de Mare, away from Ellen. But Ellen and Johnny were still very much in love, and they had their dream house built — on Gotland. It was called Muramaris, of course. It was finished in 1915, and Ellen also had a small summerhouse built for her son. It still exists today, and it’s known as Rolf de Mare’s cottage. Ellen was an artist and sculptor, and Muramaris became her studio. She was the one who made most of the sculptures in the garden. Johnny Roosval later made a name for himself, and he became Sweden’s first professor of art history. That gave him access to the more exclusive homes, and do you know what happened next? Well, the sour old Duchess von Hallwyl took Ellen back into her favour, and she was allowed to resume contact with her son. So Rolf de Mare spent a lot of time at Muramaris during the summers. And guess who he often brought along? Nils Dardel. He even ended up designing the garden at Muramaris. There’s a lovely baroque garden in the grounds, you know. And the estate is in such a beautiful location, right near the sea. Isn’t that a romantic story?’

Jacobsson leaned back in her chair with a pleased look on her face. She took another sip of her coffee, which was now cold.

‘It’s a good story, all right,’ said Knutas, relieved that it was finally over. ‘So there is a link between Nils von Dardel and Muramaris, after all. But what on earth does all of this have to do with Egon Wallin?’

‘Well, I’m not really sure, but it was so interesting to read about him — Dardel, I mean. He was a fascinating person, such a complex personality,’ said Jacobsson dreamily.

Knutas seemed to have had enough of Nils Dardel for the morning. He drained the last of his coffee and stood up. ‘Good work, Karin. It’s time for our meeting. Afterwards I think I’ll head out to Muramaris.’

He didn’t dare admit to Jacobsson that he’d never set foot in the place before, even though he’d driven past the sign a thousand times on the way out to his summerhouse.