“This is how she was dressed,” declared the nurse. She turned slowly so that the police officers could see the uniform from all angles. “But one thing was missing.”
“Missing?” echoed the officers.
“Yes, missing. The apron was gone. This is how it’s supposed to look.”
Siv Persson shook open the crackling, starched apron so they could get a closer look. It had a gentle golden tinge, an indication of its age. “At home you always wear the apron.”
“At home?”
“If you are working on a ward, you are at home in that ward. Then you wear the apron but not the belt.”
“So when you’re away from your department, you take off the apron and put on the belt? Do I understand you correctly?”
“That’s right.”
Irene and Tommy both got to their feet to inspect the dress more closely.
“It’s not black. More like dark blue,” Tommy said.
“But it wouldn’t be practical to work in that uniform, would it? Hard to wash.”
Nurse Siv snorted. “We certainly didn’t work in this uniform! This is a dress uniform for important events. The daily uniform was a light blue cotton one. No puffed sleeves or all these buttons.”
“And the person you saw the night of the murder was dressed just as you are now?”
“That’s right. Tekla was also a Sophia graduate. Since the beginning of the twentieth century, it has been the tradition at Löwander to have nurses trained at the Sophia nursing school.”
“But isn’t Sophia in Stockholm?”
“Yes, but it was always the most prestigious school. Plenty of Göteborg girls applied to Sophia for their training. I did. Many of them wanted to return to Göteborg after graduation, and Löwander Hospital was happy to hire them. In those days working at Löwander brought status. Dr. Löwander’s mother was also a Sophia nurse.”
“You mean the younger doctor?”
“Yes.”
“Are all the nurses at Löwander Hospital still graduates of the Sophia nursing school?”
“No, just Ellen and myself. All the others were educated here in Göteborg, except Margot. She got her education in Karlstad.”
Irene tried to remain casual. “You are absolutely sure that it was Nurse Tekla you saw that night?”
The nurse sighed, and then she wilted. “I know it sounds unbelievable. But the moon was shining brightly—it was almost like broad daylight when the clouds broke up. I was about to enter the nurses’ office and happened to look at the glass doors. And I saw her as clear as day.”
“What did she look like? Did you see her face?”
“No, I saw her sideways, from the back. But she was tall and … stately. She’d set her hair up according to regulations. You were supposed to be able to see all the way around the collar.”
“Did you see the color of her hair?”
“Blond. The light of the moon was reflecting off it. She looked just as she did in the picture I showed Superintendent Andersson.”
“But she was ‘away.’ No apron.”
“That’s right.”
Tommy hadn’t said much, but now he squeezed in a question. “What was Nurse Tekla wearing when she was found hanging in the attic?”
Siv Persson looked at him with distaste. “She was wearing the daily uniform.”
“With cap and apron?”
“Yes.”
“How do you know?”
“Gertrud told me. She was there and helped cut Tekla down. Gertrud had taken over Tekla’s position after she’d quit. So the two of them never met—in life, that is.”
Tommy nodded as he reflected on her statement. Then he said innocently, “Why does she haunt the hospital in her ceremonial uniform when she hanged herself in her daily uniform?”
Siv Persson pressed her lips together. “I’m going to change,” she said.
Irene stifled a smile and wagged her finger at her colleague in admonition. Perhaps he was correct in his suspicions, but there was no point in antagonizing Siv Persson. She was their most important witness, since she’d seen the murderer. The only other such witness had been silenced forever. At least they had Irene’s transcript of Kurt Höök’s tape recording. It was time to find the connection to Gunnela Hägg’s murder. One thing on the tape troubled Irene, and perhaps Siv Persson would be able to enlighten her.
Irene did her best to appear pleasant when the nurse returned wearing her dust-colored clothes. She smiled as she said, “Perhaps you can help us with the other murder. The homeless woman, Gunnela Hägg. Does her name ring a bell?”
Siv Persson wrinkled her tiny face in concentration, then shook her head. “At first I thought … but … no. I don’t recognize the name.”
“Gunnela’s statement was recorded the day after Marianne’s murder. She told a reporter the story of Tekla’s suicide. She even calls her by name.”
Siv Persson appeared surprised. “Strange. Maybe she worked for us?”
“Hardly. She was an inpatient at Lillhagen for over twenty-five years and—”
“That’s it!” Siv Persson leaped out of her armchair. Her pale face was brightened by a slight flush. “Was she at Lillhagen … let’s see … thirteen years ago?”
“That’s right.”
“Then she could have been one of the ten patients we took in from Lillhagen when they closed for the summer. Löwander Hospital did it to generate extra income. We signed a contract with the hospital’s board and took a number of patients from different medical institutions.” She fell silent to think for a minute. “All the following summers we had no mental patients, thank God. Löwander Hospital is not set up for long-time care and certainly not for mentally ill people. It was the worst summer of my life. At least as far as my work was concerned.”
“That could be something to check out. Let’s ask Hannu to follow up on that.”
Irene’s last sentence was directed to Tommy, who pulled his cell phone from his jacket.
Irene also stood and took Siv Persson’s hand. She thanked her for the coffee and the inestimable help she’d given them. As she put on her jacket, mostly to have something to say, Irene asked, “When are you going to return to work?”
Siv Persson crossed her arms on her chest as if the room had suddenly gotten very cold. “Not before my own surgery in two weeks.”
“An operation? I hope it’s not serious.”
“No. Cataracts in one eye.”
Irene froze. She remembered her mother complaining before her cataract surgery about how fuzzy everything appeared and how difficult it was for her eyes to adjust between light and dark. Trying not to show her agitation, Irene asked, “Do your cataracts bother you much?”
Tommy lifted an eyebrow questioningly. But this could be important.
“Oh, yes. It’s worst when I read. All the lines meld—” The nurse stopped suddenly and glared at Irene. “I know what you’re implying. But I saw her clearly. The clouds parted, and the moonlight flooded in through the windows. I saw her!”
Irene chose her words carefully. “I have no doubt that you saw a woman. But it was no ghost. You saw a murderer dressed up. Put aside all thoughts of a ghost. Think about a real person. Who might it have been?”
Siv Persson didn’t answer, just hugged herself more closely. Tommy walked over to her and set a hand gently on her shoulder. She trembled but didn’t shrug his hand away.
“We don’t want to scare you, but we believe that Gunnela Hägg was killed because she’d seen the murderer. Her statement indicates that she had.” Tommy paused and let his words sink in before he continued. “You are now the only surviving witness. This is a dangerous killer. You must take precautions. Do not open the door if someone rings and you don’t know who it is. Even if you do know someone, think back and make sure that it isn’t someone who could have dressed up as Nurse Tekla.”