Devil's Touch Part 23

"That Stuart Pettersson."

She switches off the coffee machine and puts the coffee on the table. Fredericsson looks at it for a moment, imagining a hot cup of coffee.

"Yes, I would think we're talking about the same person. He's rather well known."

He slowly looks up.

"Do you know how much she inherited?"

"A certain amount every month. Nathan asked me to do the paperwork quickly. I think he was afraid the family would object. His wife and children, you know."

Fredericsson looks at her for a long time.

"Wife and children."

"That's what I was doing this morning. I also went to the bank to fix the payments."

"So everything is settled now?"

Petra nods.

"Yes, the first payment has already gone through."

"How efficient."

"Well, I hope I am. Now it will be hard for other heirs to object. That's how Nathan wanted it."

"Is it a large sum?"

"To me it is."

"Is the sum large enough to somehow make Nathan disappear?"

"But probably not to other people and certainly not to her."

"What do you mean?"

"She's very smart and well dressed... in a discreet way, and well groomed..."

Fredericsson doesn't understand.

"You know, manicure, hairdresser every other week, and..."

Petra's voice has changed and Fredericsson exchanges a look with the officer through the door.

"Oh, well, we're all adults. You know what I mean."

"Yes, I think I do. She looked like she made a lot of money without working very hard for them, at least not within regular office hours. More likely at night. Am I right?"

She nods.

"Do you have any idea when the credit card was lost?"

She shakes her head.

"I didn't see any credit card when I left yesterday."

"Not until this morning."

"Did you have any clients yesterday?"

She shakes her head.

"An investigator we have used on a few cases arrived just before I left. I'm not sure exactly what kind of work he has done for us, but he arrived just before I left."

"Why?"

She ignores the question.

"He was here when I left."

"Why was he here?"

Petra shrugs, leaves the office and walks over to Nathan's office.

"I really don't know why. Nathan asked for his number, and he arrived yesterday just when I was leaving. Nathan said I could leave, so I left. For the first time in a while, I was able to take it easy and pick up my son."

Fredericsson looks at her with empty eyes.

"It's just so nice to be able to..."

She stops and sends him a friendly smile.

"So you left him alone with the investigator?"

Petra nods.

"What did he look like?"

"Nathan?"

"No, the investigator."

Petra smiles and tilts her head.

"He was in good shape, had a nice tan and brought and old, worn leather bag."

She looks inside the office.

"He was wearing a tan suede jacket. It looked really good on him."

Fredericsson's looks alert.

"The jacket is a little worn around the collar and around the wrists and he was wearing suede shoes?"

Petra is surprised and nods.

"You don't happen to have his address and his phone number?"

"Just his phone number."

"That's fine. Can you give me that?"

"Yes, of course. Do you know him?"

"I might."

Petra walks over to the desk. Fredericsson's voice sounds thoughtful.

"Actually, I think I saw him a couple of hours ago."

Petra looks up at him with surprise, but Fredericsson turns to face the officer.

"Please get her full statement and make sure she signs it. Get her out of here. When will forensic get here?"

"Any minute now."

"Thanks. Now get out of here."

"Why such a rush?"

Clearly, the officer is surprised.

Fredericsson lowers his voice.

"I've just come from the hospital and from Evy Schmidt. That's where I met the man in the suede jacket."

He looks straight at the officer.

"It looks like there's a connection between the cases."

"Here you go. I hope you can read my handwriting."

Petra looks him in the eye before he looks at the piece of paper.

"Is that a two?"

"Yes, sorry about that. Nathan isn't too pleased with my handwriting either. But, yes it is. It's 22-1"

She points to the numbers on the piece of paper. Fredericsson feels her presence acutely, and he wonders when he was last on a date with a woman. He can't remember. The officer quickly looks at Fredericsson, and then he turns his attention to Petra, gently touching her arm. Fredericsson is full of regret when the officer takes Petra by the arm and leads her over to her desk and her handbag on the floor.

"The credit card?"

"We'll leave that. Don't touch it again."

Fredericsson eyes are caught by the letter lying balled up on the floor some distance from the desk. He slowly steps into the office. He feels a faint smell of smoke coming from the fireplace and is caught up in a feeling of luxury. He stops and lets the room fill him up while his eyes look at the desk and the two coffee cups. His eyes stop at the star in the window behind the desk.

"Was that window damaged yesterday?"

His voice fills the room and Petra quickly appears in the door.

"Which window?"

"Yes, there's a star in the gla.s.s like something hit it."

She shakes her head so her earrings dance.

"No, that wasn't there when I left yesterday."

Fredericsson squats in front of the window and examines the chair.

"Hmm."

He notices the two envelopes by the chair. He gets up and looks at the desk where the handkerchief with dark stains on it is lying on the writing pad which is also clearly stained. He leans forward a little. Then he looks at the chair and then back at the writing pad. He looks increasingly annoyed as he walks around the desk and squats down again. He examines the shiny surface where the grain is visible. Now he is curious. Sounds coming from the front office make him look up.

"Are you still here?"

Surprised, he looks at the officer and Petra. Slowly he squats over the balled up letter. He almost lies down on the floor to see what it says, but soon gives up. He can't read the old fashioned handwriting from that angle.

"They're here."

The officer's voice is clear, and louder than it was. He gets up quickly.

"Who's here...? Oh, right."

Fredericsson pa.s.ses them in the door and says to the forensic people as they are setting down their bags on the floor: "I think there's some blood on the surface of the desk as well, not just on the writing pad and the handkerchief. And check if the chair might have hit the window, will you? "

"Anything else you want to teach us, Fredericsson?"

"Hmm. No, not really."

He stops.

"Yes, get those two out of here."

He looks at Petra and the officer.

"The letter on the floor there..."