Lethal Investments by Kjell Ola Dahl Read Free Book Online Page A

smidgeon, his head hung slightly and his eyes were focused upwards on the professor’s face.
    ‘She died in a relatively short time,’ Schwenke said, pointing to the picture. ‘In fact, she was stabbed nine times. This,’ he indicated to clarify the point, pulling out another photograph in which the woman’s lacerated chest was magnified. ‘This stab on its own would have been enough to kill her. The incision has not only punctured the lung but brushed the heart.’
    He paused and stroked his chin with two long, bony fingers, the yellowing nails untrimmed. ‘There was clear evidence of sperm in the vagina, so she must have been sexually active before she was killed, hard to say exactly how long before. The results of our tests may tell us more.’
    Schwenke passed the stack of photographs to Frølich. Gunnarstranda did not move.
    ‘Was she on drugs?’ he barked.
    ‘Definitely not,’ Schwenke established with total assurance.
    ‘Rape?’
    Schwenke wavered. ‘From a physiological point of view there is no damage to the central organs,’ he concluded at length. ‘But she had clearly had sexual contact at some point before the murder. What is rape though? Hypothetically speaking, a rapist may have forced her . . .’
    ‘So you can’t rule out rape?’
    Schwenke stroked his chin again, ruminating. Made a decision.
    ‘Rape cannot be ruled out,’ he stated in an official tone. ‘But I assume it has to be regarded as a legal question, dependent on the circumstances surrounding the sexual act.’
    He smacked his lips thoughtfully and added:
    ‘If you can find out what happened leading up to the murder.’
    They left the office and went to the lab. Inside, the walls were covered with shelves of glass tubes, flasks and sundry varieties of small boxes. A strong aroma of formalin filled the whole room and Frank prepared himself mentally to snatch any cigarettes from his boss’s hands, for fear of an explosion. In the background, fans whirred vainly trying to dispel the thick chemical atmosphere that enveloped them. In the middle of the floor there was a steel table on castors, enshrouded in a sheet. Beneath which you could clearly see the outline of a body. The cover seemed to have been cast over the body in a hurry and there were bloodstains in the corner. A couple of stained plastic gloves lay on the lid of a sinister-looking plastic bucket beside the table.
    ‘No, no, that’s not her!’
    Professor Schwenke followed Frank’s gaze. A sudden thoughtful expression crossed his face. ‘Suicide,’ he sighed, mostly to the corpse. ‘Two bottles of sleeping tablets, all in one go.’
    All three of them stared at the table in silence.
    ‘What time of the day did she die?’
    Schwenke regarded the policeman with bewilderment. ‘Did who die?’
    ‘The girl with the stab wounds!’
    ‘We’re checking her stomach contents right now. All the tests are being done routinely, as I have made clear. In general, there is quite a bit I am unable to say as of yet.’
    He nodded towards the table and added a couple of toffees to his voice. ‘I know the fluctuations, the state of the market, you might say. And now it’s the peak season for this kind of . . .’
    ‘Would she have screamed?’
    There was an irritated expression in Schwenke’s eyes as he turned back to Gunnarstranda. ‘Would who have screamed?’
    ‘How likely is it that the knife wounds would have made her scream?’
    ‘She might have screamed, but she could also have been paralysed. The stab that punctured her lung might well have been the first.’
    He drew a deep breath and addressed Frank. ‘It’s the way it’s always been. I remember when I was the Regional Medical Officer in Troms. If someone had hanged themselves from a beam in the barn you could bet your life it happened on the night of a full moon.’
    ‘The stabber, did he get a lot of blood over him?’
    Schwenke smiled unperturbed and winked at Frank before turning round again. He