Murder in Malmö: The second Inspector Anita Sundström mystery (Inspector Anita Sundström mysteries) Read Free

about the police, psychologists and the people who complicated her life.
    ‘Do you still love him?’ he repeated gently.
    Very slowly Anita nodded.
    Axelsson snapped his notebook shut. ‘Now we’re getting somewhere.’

CHAPTER 4
    The light from the bedroom was momentarily blotted out. Chief Inspector Erik Moberg’s giant frame filled the doorway. He wasn’t much shy of two metres tall, and carried an unhealthy amount of bulk around with him. It was many a year since he’d been able to slip into size 54 trousers. The most disconcerting aspect of his appearance was the strange colour of his dyed hair, which could best be described as nicotine-yellow. Beneath it, all the features of his face were exaggerated by their mass, from the heavy jowls to the increasingly slitting eyes, caused by the collision of drooping eyebrows and puffed-up cheeks. He moved forward into the bathroom and towered above the body. With Moberg inside, the room seemed a lot smaller than it had before. Quite a crowd now, with senior forensic technician, Eva Thulin, bending over the corpse; Inspector Henrik Nordlund examining the shower cubicle, and Inspector Karl Westermark, with a wooden toothpick sticking out of the side of his mouth as a substitute cigarette, leaning casually against the basin. All three had on plastic suits.
    ‘Well?’ Moberg boomed. ‘What the hell happened here?’
    Westermark took the toothpick out of his mouth. ‘He’s called Tommy Ekman. Runs an advertising agency in town. Cleaning lady found him.’
    ‘How did he die?’ This time Moberg addressed Thulin.
    Eva glanced up. ‘Somehow he seems to have been gassed. Or certainly the physical signs point in that direction.’
    Moberg snorted. ‘How do you gas someone in a shower?’
    ‘I have no idea yet,’ said Thulin rising from her haunches.
    ‘OK. Is there a fru Ekman or is he a gay bachelor?’
    ‘There is. And a couple of kids, too.’ Westermark twirled the toothpick round his fingers. His cropped blond hair, piercing blue eyes and lantern-jawed ruggedness gave him the good looks that he assumed no woman could resist. Not many had. ‘They’re in the country at the moment.’
    ‘And the cleaning lady?’
    ‘She’s in the kitchen with a constable,’ explained Nordlund. ‘In a state of shock. Swedish isn’t that good. Bosnian, I think.’
    ‘Bloody typical,’ snarled Westermark.
    Moberg ignored Westermark and shook his head. ‘But gassing?’
    ‘I might be able to tell you once I’ve examined the whole scene,’ said Thulin in some exasperation. ‘So, if you gentlemen would like to leave. Until then, your gas is as good mine.’
    Even Moberg managed to raise a faint smile.
    Anita drove out of the hospital car park. Were the Axelsson sessions doing any good? Only time would tell. What was inescapable was the fact that she would be returning to work tomorrow. It made her feel nervous. How would she be received by her colleagues? Sympathetically? Resentfully? Mockingly?
    Anita turned the car into the stream of traffic. Chief Inspector Erik Moberg would probably treat her with his usual suspicion. He was uncomfortable with a female detective on his team. He didn’t like anyone standing up to him, particularly a woman. And just when she thought she had won him over with her discovery that Mick Roslyn had murdered his wife, it was all blown away by the revelation that Ewan Strachan had been the killer all along. Henrik Nordlund, the oldest member of the team and her unofficial mentor, would provide the sympathy and a shoulder to cry on if necessary. A widower nearing retirement, Nordlund had already taken the time to come round to her apartment in Roskildevägen and talk to her. But her real worry was Karl Westermark. In his late thirties, this coldly handsome man was a danger. She knew that he both loathed her and lusted after her. He had made both emotions perfectly plain. He was ruthless, and she knew he would have exploited her fall from grace whilst