Who was the mys­te­ri­ous and grisly killer?

Chat - - Contents -

It seemed that Lilly Lind­strom was do­ing well for her­self.

She was 32, and had a flat in At­las, a newly-con­structed district of Stock­holm, Swe­den.

It was crammed with mod-cons – even a tele­phone. Quite some­thing in the 1930s, and her neigh­bours nick­named her the ‘call girl’.

And that was ex­actly how Lilly made her liv­ing – she was a pros­ti­tute.

Men would call her, she’d in­vite them over…

So when the po­lice broke into her flat and found her body, they thought one of her clients had done it. Blud­geoned poor Lilly Lind­strom to death.

It was 4 May 1932. Two days be­fore, Lilly had in­vited one of her callers over.

She’d asked her friend Min­nie Jans­son if she had a spare con­dom. Min­nie was a pros­ti­tute, too, lived in the same build­ing.

At about 9pm that night, Lilly had knocked on Min­nie’s door for the sec­ond time. She wasn’t wear­ing any­thing and had just pulled on a coat to cover her naked body.

She asked Min­nie for an­other con­dom. And that made Min­nie the last-known per­son to see Lilly Lind­strom alive.

When Min­nie didn’t see her friend for the next two days, she started to worry.

She called her phone – no an­swer. She knocked on Lilly’s door – no an­swer.

So she con­tacted the po­lice… and they forced open the door to her flat.

Lilly was found face down on her bed. She was naked, her clothes folded neatly on a chair.

There was a used con­dom in­side her, saliva all over her neck and body. She’d al­ready been dead for two days.

The cause of death was re­peated blows to the head from a heavy, blunt ob­ject.

But, hor­ri­fy­ingly, Lilly’s body had been drained of blood. A la­dle found near her body was stained with it

Some­one had spooned Lilly’s blood like soup from a bowl, then drunk it.

Who­ever had done it had known what he was do­ing. Not a drop had been wasted, not a drop spilled. Not a drop was on the floor, walls or fur­nish­ings.

The po­lice ques­tioned Lilly’s neigh­bours.

None had seen any­one com­ing or go­ing from her flat, even though they knew Lilly had had a caller… Why else would she need con­doms?

But how had her caller en­tered and left the build­ing with­out be­ing seen?

More baf­fling still, why

If he were an or­di­nary man, he’d be dead by now...

would any­one drain, then drink her blood?

Soon, the killer had a nick­name – the Vam­pire of At­las. For who else could leave a build­ing un­seen? Who else would’ve gorged on her blood?

Any­one who’d called Lilly for sex was a sus­pect, but there was no ev­i­dence against any of them.

The po­lice be­lieved the way in which Lilly had been killed, the way her clothes had been folded, the way her blood had been drunk, seemed to in­di­cate the work of a se­rial killer.

But where and when would the Vam­pire strike next? Days, weeks, months passed and the Vam­pire of At­las never killed again, he just van­ished.

If he were an or­di­nary man, he’d be dead by now and have got away with his crime...

But if he were a vam­pire, is he out there still, sleep­ing in a cof­fin… wait­ing to one day re­turn? Wait­ing for a woman like Lilly – and for her blood.

Lilly was a call girl…

Scene of the crime

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