The Man from Beijing Read Online Free PDF Page A

the police station in Hudiksvall, but Tobias Ludwig was on official business in Stockholm. She asked the switchboard to contact him on his cell phone.
    Robertsson was busy talking to the newly arrived forensic officers from Gävle. Sundberg was left standing beside Tom and Ninni Hansson in their yard. The Hanssons had donned their army-issue fur coats and were observing what was happening with interest. Start with those still alive, Vivi Sundberg thought. Tom and Ninni Hansson might have seen something without realizing it.
    A killer who decides to eliminate a whole village must have some kind of plan for how to go about it, even if he’s totally crazy.
    She walked over to the road and looked around. The frozen lake, the forest, the distant mountains with all their peaks and valleys. Where had he come from? she asked herself. I think I can be certain that whoever did this was not a woman. But he, or they, must have come from somewhere, and they must have gone somewhere.
    She was just about to go back in through the gate when a car pulled up with one of the dog patrols they had sent for.
    “Only one?” she asked, without trying to conceal her irritation.
    “Bonzo’s not feeling well,” said the officer.
    “Are you telling me that police dogs can be out sick?”
    “Evidently. Where do you want me to start? What’s happened?”
    “Talk to Huddén.”
    The officer was about to ask her something else, but she turned herback on him and took Tom and Ninni Hansson back into their house. As they sat down, her cell phone rang.
    “I hear you’ve been trying to contact me,” said Tobias Ludwig. “You know I don’t like being disturbed when I’m at meetings of the National Police Board.”
    “I’m afraid that can’t be helped on this occasion.”
    “What’s happened?”
    “We have several dead bodies in Hesjövallen.”
    She described the situation briefly. Ludwig didn’t say a word. She waited.
    “I understand. I’ll set off as soon as I can.” Vivi Sundberg glanced at her watch.
    “We need to call a press conference,” she said. “We’ll time it for six o’clock. Until then I’ll just say that there’s been a murder. I won’t reveal how many victims. Come as fast as you can. But don’t crash the car.”
    “I’ll see if I can get an emergency car to take me.”
    “Preferably a helicopter. We’re talking about nineteen murdered people, Tobias.”
    They hung up. The Hanssons had heard every word she said. She could see the disbelief in their faces.
    The nightmare was expanding all the time. Reality was a long way off.
    She sat down in a chair, having shooed away a sleeping cat.
    “Everybody in the village is dead. You two and Julia are the only ones still alive. Even people’s pets have been killed. I can understand that you are shocked. We all are. But I have to ask you some questions. Please try to answer as accurately as possible. I also want you to try and think of things I don’t ask you about. Even the smallest thing you can remember might be important. Do you understand?”
    The response was silent, worried-looking nods. Sundberg decided to tread carefully. She started talking about that morning. When had they woken up? Had they heard anything? What about during the night? Had anything happened? Had anything been different from usual? She asked them to ransack their memories.
    They took turns replying. One filled in when the other broke off. It was obvious that they were doing their very best to be helpful.
    She went backward, a sort of wintry retracing of steps through an unknown landscape. Had anything special happened the previous evening?
    Nothing. “Everything was the same as usual” were the words recurring in almost every answer they gave her.
    They were interrupted by Erik Huddén. What should he do with the journalists? More kept arriving, and they were getting restless.
    “Hang on a bit longer,” she said. “I’ll be with you shortly. Tell them there’ll be a press conference