Watching You(14)

The man who never swore.

‘It’s OK,’ Berger said, putting a soothing hand on Robin’s broad shoulder. ‘Even eminent forensics experts can have off days.’

It was clear that Robin had a whole library of sharp replies on the tip of his tongue. The fact that he refrained from using any of them made Berger like him even more.

‘What led you to it?’ Robin asked simply.

‘The same difference in colour as at the concealed entrance.’

‘Not good,’ Robin said. ‘I shall do it again, and do it right.’

‘Pleased to hear it,’ Berger said joylessly. ‘Please, just give me something else.’ Robin buried his wide face in his equally wide hands. It wasn’t a despairing gesture – that would have been out of character – but rather a reflective one.

‘This changes our assumptions about the marks in the wooden pillars,’ Robin said eventually. ‘We need to rethink things. They must be more recent than our first estimation suggested. They’ve probably been made to look older on purpose.

‘What else?’ Berger said.

Robin looked at him for a while, then said: ‘There were scratches in the floor.’

‘Scratches?’

‘A few smaller scratches close to the wall, slightly larger about a metre from the wall.’

Robin looked around, as if he was waiting for a penny to drop.

‘No,’ Deer said, opening her eyes wide.

‘Yes,’ Robin said, giving her an appreciative look.

‘In a cement floor? Nails?’

‘I’m afraid so. Scratches made by fingernails close to the wall, toenails further away. No trace of keratin, however.’

‘Keratin?’ Berger said.

‘A fibrous structural protein,’ Vira said, with another doctor’s nod. ‘High-sulphur protein that makes up hair, nails and horns.’

‘Horns?’ Berger exclaimed. ‘There ought to be a fuck of a lot of evidence of both sulphur and horns in that infernal basement.’

‘He used a vacuum cleaner,’ Robin said calmly. ‘Just like he did on the rest of the house, and a very good vacuum cleaner at that.’

‘A traceable vacuum cleaner?’ Berger said.

‘Possibly,’ Robin said. ‘There are a fair few portable precision vacuum cleaners on the market. I’ll get back to you about that.’

‘Do,’ Berger said. ‘Anything else?’

‘Then there’s the knife-throwing apparatus in the hall,’ Robin went on. ‘You could describe it as a double hair-triggered crossbow. An intricate mechanism for two separate knife blades. Throwing knives have a particular balancing point. Normally when you throw one it rotates on the way to its target. Even though the target was only a couple of metres away in this instance, the knives still need to be carefully balanced to fly straight. And these were very carefully balanced.’

‘Modified by hand?’ Berger wondered.

Robin nodded and shook his head at the same time.

‘As far as I can tell, yes.’

‘Why not use arrows?’ Deer said. ‘Crossbow bolts or arrows. They’re made to fly straight. Instead he modifies a weapon which isn’t supposed to fly straight. Why do that?’

‘Because knives are more frightening,’ Berger said. ‘Because he wants to show us how clever he is, again.’

‘I’m having trouble getting my head around the knife blades,’ Robin said. ‘I don’t know what it is. I’ll have to get back to you on that as well.’

‘What about the shit bucket?’ Berger said.

‘A very literal mess of faeces and urine. As with the blood, the National Forensic Centre – as we have been so smartly known since 1 January – is working with the Forensic Medical Unit on the analysis. Vira?’

‘Water and bread,’ Vira said.

‘Is that the technical terminology?’ Berger said. ‘Like keratin?’

‘Margarine too,’ Vira said, ignoring him. ‘Water, bread and margarine. Different sorts of bread, white and something more wholemeal. No meat, no vegetables, no cheese, no sign of any liquid except water. The analysis is ongoing.’

‘Although the toxicology is higher priority,’ Berger stated.

Vira fell silent. Robin didn’t say anything.

‘And Cary?’ Berger prompted.

‘Cary is one of Sweden’s foremost sound technicians, in spite of his modest appearance,’ Robin said. ‘He’s got news about the voice.’

‘We’re talking about Lina Vikstr?m’s voice here?’ Deer said. ‘The woman who called to say that Ellen was in M?rsta?’

‘Correct,’ Robin said. ‘Cary?’

The barely visible sound technician cleared his throat and said: ‘I’ve analysed the sequence in every imaginable way, sequence by sequence, and I’ve also applied a few more experimental methods. I’m afraid I have to admit that I’m not quite finished yet, despite working all night. The voice has been run through so many filters that it’s actually difficult to tell if it was even a human voice originally.’

‘Was it?’ Berger asked.

‘Everything suggests that it was. But it hasn’t been easy to uncover the original sound. I need another day or so to …’