‘Yes,’ he said. ‘According to property records, Berglund owned the facility.’
Miles was visibly crushed. The others — even Hedman, who had put forth the theory in the first place — remained speechless. No one knew quite what to make of the news.
Hanna eventually broke the silence, abandoning her native Swedish and speaking in thickly accented English. ‘Is he dead?’
‘Sorry. We’re not at liberty to discuss it.’
The answer did not sit well with the matriarch of the group. She showed her anger by smacking her cane on the ground in front of her. The sound echoed through the hall. ‘Without us, where would you be? We have given you every explanation. We have walked you through the science. We have answered all of your questions. Surely you can answer one of ours.’
Eklund shook his head. ‘With all due respect, Dr Norling, you’re asking about an open, ongoing investigation. I can understand your interest, but unfortunately, I’m not in a position to provide any more details at this time.’
‘With all due respect, Special Agent Eklund, you’re not in a position to keep all the details at this time. You asked for our help, and we obliged. If Dr Berglund or any of our colleagues have been murdered in our city, we have a right to know. Otherwise, you may find yourself without the assistance of the Swedish scientific community.’
Hanna’s threat was clear. Olsen had gathered the best minds that the institute had to offer, and their continuing support was vital to the investigation. If the experts decided to withhold their participation, Eklund was certain that something would get overlooked.
He glanced at Dial, who subtly nodded his head.
Sometimes rules were meant to be broken.
Eklund cleared his throat. ‘In appreciation of your help and guidance, I can confirm that Dr Berglund has not been found at the scene.’ There was a collective sigh in the room. Miles’s face brightened with hope. ‘That does not mean he is out of danger. The building was large, and the damage was extensive. There is always a chance that we will find more bodies as we continue our examination. However, for the time being, we remain hopeful.’
‘Thank you,’ Hanna said in a warmer tone. ‘And what of the others?’
Eklund frowned. ‘I’m afraid they weren’t as fortunate.’
He opened his notebook and read two lists of names: the presumed dead and the confirmed dead. As Eklund spoke, Dial studied the reactions of the gathered scientists. What he saw was a mix of recognition, shock and horrified speculation.
Eventually Hedman said what the others were thinking. ‘Whatever they were doing, I assure you it was way bigger than you realize.’
‘What makes you say that?’ Dial asked.
‘Those names. Most of them should be running their own labs. To find them working side by side is remarkable. It would take something extraordinary to bring them all together.’
Olsen added more. ‘They represent the top percentages of their respective disciplines. Take everyone in this room and convince them all to put aside their own research and come together. Set them to work on a common goal. Your lab in Stockholm represents a similar endeavor.’
The implications of Olsen’s statement were not lost on the group. If someone had murdered such a collection of scientists — scientists who, like them, represented diverse areas of interest and, like them, were well known in their fields — what was to stop him from hunting them down next? Suddenly, their presence in the same room took on an ominous feel.
But Dial wasn’t concerned. ‘Tell me, could Berglund have brought them all together? Did he have that kind of pull?’
‘Almost certainly,’ Hedman replied. ‘Year after year he’s on the shortlist to win a Nobel Prize — the only question is the field in which he will be honored. Who wouldn’t want to be a part of that?’
Eklund grabbed a chair from against the wall and slid it to the front of the lecture hall. ‘Everyone get comfortable. It looks like we’re going to be here for a while.’
The group looked at him quizzically.
‘I want to know everything you can tell me about Dr Berglund. Every discovery he’s made. Every theory he’s put forth. Every rumor anyone’s ever heard about him. If someone wanted him dead, I want to know why. The same goes for any of the scientists on those lists. If you know anything that can help my case, I need to know now.’
Dial fought the urge to smile. He continued to be impressed by Eklund. It was the exact move he would have made had he been leading the investigation. He too wanted to hear more about Berglund and the other scientists.
He took a chair for himself and was about to carry it over to Eklund when he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. He put the chair down and glanced at the screen.
He grunted when he saw the name. It wasn’t Toulon, or anyone else from his department. Instead, it was a friend of his who rarely called to chat. In fact, their conversations almost always led to something interesting. Or life-threatening. Or both.
Dial looked at his phone again, just to make sure.
But the name hadn’t changed.
JONATHON PAYNE.
28
Dial glanced at his watch and realized it was the middle of the night in Pittsburgh. Given Payne’s background and resources, there was no guarantee that he was stateside, but if he was, Dial knew the odds were pretty damn good he wasn’t calling to talk about baseball.
‘Just a second,’ Dial said into the phone as he excused himself from the lecture hall. ‘You haven’t even said a word yet, and I’m already dreading this call.’
‘Screw you, too.’
‘Sorry, it’s just—’
‘No,’ Payne teased, ‘I don’t want to hear an apology; it’s too late for that. I take time out of my busy schedule to see how your chin is doing, and you give me nothing but attitude.’
Dial couldn’t help but smile. Payne was referring to Dial’s most prominent feature; the finely chiseled lines of his chin gave him the look of a movie star rather than a detective, and Payne was always quick to give him shit about it.
‘The chin is fine — even after that sucker punch.’
‘Sorry, man, I couldn’t resist.’
‘It helps if you try.’
‘Good point. I’ll remember that the next time.’
‘Sadly, you said that the last time.’
Both men laughed at the exchange.
‘Well,’ Dial said, ‘if you’re at home, you’re either up awfully early or awfully late. That means you’re either in trouble or something is troubling you. Spill it.’
‘At home. Couldn’t sleep. Too much on my mind.’
‘Go on.’
‘Yesterday I got a call from a man who used to work for my father back in the sixties. This guy was a total stranger to me, but he called me out of the blue because he needed my help.’
‘Money problems?’
‘People problems.’
‘Meaning?’
‘Some people were after him.’
‘What kind of people?’
Payne cleared his throat. ‘Dead people.’
Dial raised his voice. ‘Jesus, Jon! I hope you mean he’s being haunted, because if you’re telling me that you killed some people and want my help, I’m going to hang up the damn phone.’
‘Not really your help, but …’
‘Let me guess,’ Dial said rhetorically, ‘they were all foreign nationals, and now you’ve got the makings of an international incident on your hands.’
‘Wait a second. Did DJ call you already?’