Do you think she was given the sedative in one of her drinks?’
Pedersen threw out his hands. ‘Impossible to say.’
‘Okay, so she fell asleep and was then strangled. We know that much. Is there anything more to go on?’
Pedersen looked through his papers again. ‘Yes, there were other injuries. She seems to have taken some blows to the body, and one cheek also had a subcutaneous bleed as well as in the musculature, as if she’d been given a powerful slap.’
‘That corresponds well with what we know about that evening,’ said Patrik grimly.
‘She also had some deep cuts on her wrists. They must have bled heavily.’
‘Cuts,’ said Patrik. He hadn’t noticed that when he saw her in the rubbish truck. On the other hand, he hadn’t got a good look at her. He’d glanced at the body and then quickly turned away. This information was undeniably of interest.
‘What can you tell me about the cuts?’
‘Not much.’ Pedersen roughed up his hair, and Patrik had a sense of déjà vu, thinking about his own image that he’d seen in the mirror the past few days.
‘Judging by the location of the wounds I don’t believe they were self-inflicted. Even though it’s rather popular these days, particularly among young girls, to cut themselves.’
Patrik saw the image of Jonna in the interview room, with her arms lacerated all the way from her wrists to her elbows. An idea was beginning to take shape. But that would have to wait until later.
‘And the time?’ Patrik asked. ‘Can you say about what time she died?’
‘The temperature of her body when she was found indicates that she died sometime after midnight. Around three or four is my professional guess.’
‘Okay,’ said Patrik, looking thoughtful. He didn’t bother to take notes. He knew that he’d receive a copy of the autopsy report before he left.
‘Anything else?’ He could hear how hopeful he sounded. A week had gone by with no leads to advance the investigation. He was grasping at the slightest straw.
‘Well, we were able to pull some interesting hairs out of her hand. I’m guessing that the perpetrator undressed her to remove any possible evidence, but missed the fact that she had grabbed onto something, presumably when she was dying.’
‘So they couldn’t have come from the rubbish bin?’
‘No, not considering the way they were gripped in her fist.’
‘Yes?’ Patrik felt the impatience like a heat in his body. He saw from Pedersen that this was good, that they would finally get something useful. ‘What sort of hairs are they?’
‘Actually, “hairs” was a somewhat inaccurate description on my part. It’s fur from a dog. From a wire-haired Galgo Español to be exact. All according to the National Crime Lab.’ He placed the paper with NCL’s report before Patrik. It mercifully covered the photo of Lillemor.
‘Is it possible to match the fur with a specific dog?’
‘Yes and no,’ replied Pedersen shaking his head a bit regretfully. ‘Canine DNA is just as specific and identifiable as human DNA. But just as with people, the follicle has to be attached to extract DNA. And when dogs shed their hair, the follicle is not usually included. In this case there were no follicles. On the other hand, it’s a plus that the Galgo Español is a very uncommon breed of dog. There are probably only about two hundred in all of Sweden.’
Patrik looked at him with wide-eyed amazement. ‘Do you know this off the top of your head?’
Pedersen laughed. ‘Those CSI series on TV have given our reputation a terrific boost. Everybody thinks we know everything about everything! But unfortunately I have to disappoint you. It just so happens that my father-in-law is one of the two hundred people who own a Galgo Español. And every time we meet I get to hear everything about that damn dog.’
‘I know what you mean. My ex-wife’s father was the same, only with him it was cars.’
‘Yes, in-laws can get obsessed about things – but I suppose we all can.’ Pedersen laughed but then turned serious. ‘If you have any questions about the dog hairs that were found, you’ll have to ask NCL directly. All I know is what they told me in this report, and I’ll give you a copy.’
‘Great,’ said Patrik. ‘I just have one more question. Was there any sign of sexual assault in connection with Lillemor’s death?’
Pedersen shook his head. ‘There was no indication of that. Which doesn’t mean that the murder wasn’t sexually related, but there’s no evidence pointing to rape.’
‘Thank you for your help,’ Patrik said, starting to get up from his chair.
‘How’s it going with your other case?’ Pedersen said all of a sudden, and Patrik fell back into his chair. There was guilt written all over his face.
‘That … that has been badly neglected,’ he said, shamefaced. ‘What with the TV and newspapers and bosses ringing every five minutes asking if we’re getting anywhere with the Lillemor murder the other case has more or less been put on the back burner. But that’s going to change now.’
‘Well, whoever did it is someone the police should catch ASAP. I’ve never seen anything like it. What a cold-blooded way to kill someone.’
‘Yes, I agree,’ said Patrik listlessly. He was thinking of Kerstin’s voice on the telephone a couple of hours earlier. How lifeless and hopeless she had sounded. He couldn’t forgive himself for neglecting the investigation of Marit’s death. ‘But I hope to get some answers today.’ He got up, took the stack of papers that Pedersen handed him, and thanked him with a handshake.
Back in his car, he headed for the place where he hoped to find a few more answers. Or at least some new questions to ask.
‘Did you get anything good out of Pedersen?’ Martin listened on the phone and took notes as Patrik gave him a quick rundown of what Pedersen had said.
‘That part about the dog hair should prove useful. At least it gives us something specific to go on.’ He kept listening.
‘Cuts? Yes, I understand what you’re getting at. One person seems of particular interest.
‘Another interview? Okay, sure. I can take Hanna along and we’ll bring her in. No problem.’
After he put the phone down, Martin sat quietly for a moment. Then he went to find Hanna.
Exactly half an hour later they were sitting in the interview room with Jonna facing them. They hadn’t had to go far to find her. She was at her job at Hedemyr’s, just across the street from the station.
‘So, Jonna. Last time, we spoke with you about Friday night. Is there anything you’d like to add?’ Out of the corner of his eye Martin saw how Hanna was watching Jonna like a hawk. She had an ability to look so stern that even he felt compelled to reel off all his sins. He hoped she would have the same effect on the girl in front of them. But Jonna averted her eyes, looked down at the table, and
