consequences. You can’t be a little bit skinhead. You have to make it clear to her what the shaved head stands for!”
“We tried! But whenever we mention Nazism and racism, she denies that the Holocaust ever happened. And according to her we’re racists ourselves. It’s true that both Krister and I have griped about certain immigrants who come here and live off our taxes. And as a cop I’ve seen a lot of felonies committed by immigrants.”
“But how do you think these young criminal immigrants are supposed to have any feeling of solidarity with Swedish society? They’re consistently locked out of everything! They live in suburban ghettos, they’re outsiders at school and outsiders in terms of the language. Many of them can’t speak either Swedish or their native language correctly. And they’re outsiders in the job market too. If an employer sees that someone has a name he can’t pronounce, that person isn’t even called for an interview. It doesn’t matter how good an education he has. Under- the-table cleaning jobs are the only thing they seem to be good for in Sweden!”
“Like Pirjo Larsson.
“Like Pirjo. The only thing that gives many immigrant kids a sense of security and belonging is the gang. We’ve both seen what a lot of these gangs get up to. We don’t see the ones who aren’t criminals, just the ones who are. I’m never astonished by what kids are doing. I’m just terrified at what kind of society we’re creating for our kids. And now I’m thinking about our
Speechless, she stared at him. She had never heard him react so powerfully. To her he was even-keeled Tommy, the calm, secure father of three and also her oldest friend from the police academy. He was so worked up that he was pacing around their little office and stomping as he gave Hitler salutes to underscore his meaning.
“And because they’re our kids,” Tommy went on, “we have to take responsibility. We can’t abdicate it! You have two kids, I have three. But those skinheads who will be gathering around statues of King Karl the Twelfth all over the country in a few days are our kids too!”
She felt confused and tired, wanted to protest, but her weary brain couldn’t formulate her thoughts. She made a vague attempt anyway. “I don’t think that just because Jenny shaved her head, all skinheads are kids like mine.”
“If you deny that, you also deny the society that has hired you to protect it! These skinheads are part of Swedish society. We all have a responsibility. But above all, they’re a symptom of our society’s ills.”
“A symptom?”
“Of alienation! Swedish society forces people outside! And once you’re outside you’re damned well never going to be let back in!”
“But why do you think young people are voluntarily choosing to join groups of outsiders?”
“Young people have always done that. In our day we wore FNL buttons and Palestinian scarves; we talked about solidarity with the Third World and all that stuff. Many of us were swept along with the Green Wave, the ecology movement. We had correct opinions and views!”
“But everybody was politically Red in the seventies!”
“Young people were, sure. We belonged to the progressive youth generation. We weren’t like
“Is what we’re seeing with neo-Nazis and skinheads the same thing? Is that what you think?”
“Yep. They’ve given up trying to get into our restrictive society before they even make an attempt. It’s better to give up voluntarily than to be locked out. So they feel solidarity with groups of outsiders. They look for strength in the group. It’s easy to blend in and acquire an identity, since all of them look the same in their boots, military clothes, and bald heads. They inspire fear in other people by their very appearance. Young people learn prefabricated arguments and seek support from them. Their leaders make such a cocksure impression when they stand up and scream their slogans with electric guitars and heavy drums thundering in the background. How beautiful to avoid thinking for yourself! Just march along!”
Why was Tommy so agitated and impassioned? Irene was astonished but didn’t get the chance to ask him, since the intercom beeped and called them to “morning prayers.” Tommy took a deep breath and appeared to made a quick decision. He blurted out, “It’s been a while since I’ve seen Jenny. I think you should invite me over tomorrow or the next day.”
Irene was confused by his abrupt change of subject, but said at once, “You know you’re welcome anytime. As always! Krister and I have been talking about a little Lucia party, and of course you and Agneta will-”
“That’ll be cool. Although that’s not what I was thinking of,” said Tommy. His voice was very serious.
Irene also understood that he wasn’t talking about a pleasant evening. Right off she made up her mind and said, “Let’s make it Wednesday night. Krister can fix dinner for us. I know what you think of my cooking.”
“It’s just as high-class as my own, although mine is a tiny bit better. Wednesday will be fine. Make sure Jenny’s home.”
Just as Irene was about to enter the conference room, a secretary showed up and handed her a brown interdepartmental envelope. With a quick glance she noticed the name “Bo-Ivan Torsson” in the text.
Superintendent Andersson cleared his throat and called for silence. “Okay. We’re all here. The techs are coming later. They’re working on a car bomb that went off this morning. Have you all heard about that?”
The majority of the group looked surprised and shook their heads. Apparently the explosion was the top story on the seven-thirty news, but most of them had been busy getting ready for “morning prayers” at the time.
Andersson went on, “Damned strange. A car exploded in the parking lot at Delsjon golf course at six o’clock this morning. Nobody was in the vicinity except for the driver of the car, who was much too close. He was literally vaporized to atoms! The theory is that some kind of terrorist set off the bomb by mistake. IRA or Hamas or something. Or maybe old shit from the former Yugoslavia. I remember what a hell of a mess we had with Ustasha in the seventies. . Well, someone else will have to take care of that investigation. Now let’s go over what we’ve found out since Friday.”
He continued by informing them that the charred body in Pathology was probably Pirjo’s. They would have definite word that afternoon, when the forensic odontologist looked at the X rays and compared them with the corpse’s teeth. He provoked even greater interest when he mentioned the cut on the head of von Knecht’s penis. Stridner’s assumption that he had had sex the day before he died prompted many questions and speculations. Irene recounted that she had checked out Jonas and Mona Soder. Without going into detail, she said that they should be left out of the investigation for the time being. Their alibis for Tuesday were impeccable. She quickly moved on to the theory that there was an extra set of keys to the two apartments, but also emphasized that so far it was only a theory; it would be important to follow up on what had happened to Richard von Knecht’s spare-key ring for the Porsche and the garage. She recounted Saturday’s conversation with Sylvia and the subsequent surveillance. When she revealed that it was Ivan Viktors who was the “boyfriend,” Jonny couldn’t hold himself back. Maliciously he hooted, “I knew it! There was something that smarmy customer was hiding. He may be a celebrity and a stuck-up fart, but we’ve got him now!”
Irene was unusually grumpy on this Monday morning of all Mondays. She couldn’t hold back her acid comment, “Got him for what? That he’s screwing Sylvia von Knecht? There’s no law against that. They’re both grown-ups, that’s for sure.”
Jonny scowled at her but couldn’t come up with any deadly repartee. Instead he told the others about Friday’s interview with Viktors. Then he went over what he and Hans Borg had found out during the stakeout of the parking garage on Kapellgatan on Friday. It didn’t take long. The results were zip.
Andersson shrugged. “Okay, that was a dud. We’ll skip the parking garage for now. Evidently, in the crappy weather, our killer was on foot. Birgitta, tell us about our charming photographer, Bobo.”
Birgitta told the story of what had happened on Friday afternoon, without giving a single hint about her own feelings. Relieved, Andersson saw that she seemed to be her normal self again. He hoped he wouldn’t have to get any more involved in what had happened between her and Jonny later that day. Damned unpleasant.
The only thing Fredrik and Hannu had to report was that Bobo hadn’t shown up on Berzeliigatan over the weekend. After comparing his description with Birgitta’s account of his appearance and clothing during the interview, they were positive that he was the one who had picked up a large bag on Friday afternoon. The search of
