Three Seconds

'Black.'

Grens drank the whole cup and Agestam filled it again.

'Nearly as good as the stuff from the machine in the corridor.' 'It's quarter past four in the morning. What do you want?'

The briefcase was already on the table. Grens opened it and pulled out three files.

'Do you recognize these?'

Lars Agestam nodded.

'Yes.'

'Three investigations that we've worked on together over the past year.'

Ewert Grens pointed to them, one at a time.

'Serious drug offense, parking lot in Regeringsgatan. Tried and acquitted.

Firearms offense, pathway under Liljeholm bridge. Tried and acquitted.

Attempted kidnapping, Magnus Ladulasgatan. Tried and acquitted.'

'Can you keep your voice down? My wife. My children. They're asleep.' Agestam waved his hand at the ceiling, the floor above.

'Have you got children? You didn't the last time.'

'Well, I do now.'

Grens lowered his voice.

'Do you remember them?'

'Yes.'

'Why?'

'You know why. I didn't get approval. Lack of evidence.'

Grens put the files to one side, replaced them with a laptop that had until recently been on a high ranking officer's desk behind a locked door. He searched through the documents, as before, turned the screen toward the prosecutor.

'I want you to read.'

Lars Agestam picked up the teacup, lifted it to his mouth and there it remained. He couldn't get it any farther, his fingers frozen.

'What is this?'

He looked at Ewert Grens.

'Grens? What is this?'

'What is it? The same addresses. The same times. But a different truth.' 'I don't understand.'

'This one? Serious drug offense, parking lot, Regeringsgatan. But what actually happened. Described in a secret intelligence report written by a policeman who wasn't part of the investigation.'

Ewert Grens looked on the computer again.

'Two more. Read.'

His neck was red. Hand through his hair.

'And this one?'

'This one? Firearms offense, pathway under Liljeholm bridge. And this one? Attempted kidnapping, Magnus Ladulasgatan. Also what actually happened. Also described in a secret intelligence report written by police who weren't part of the investigation.'

The prosecutor stood up.

'Grens, I-'

'And this is just three of three hundred and two cases from last year. They're all there. The truth we were never told. Crimes that were swept under the carpet so that other crimes could be solved. An official investigation, the sort that you and I deal with. And another that exists only here, in secret intelligence reports for police management.'

Ewert Grens looked at the man in a robe in front of him.

'Lars, you were involved in twenty-three of them. Cases where you prosecuted and were unsuccessful. You closed them because you didn't have all the information that was included in the real report, the secret one, the one that would have nailed the snitch.'

Lars Agestam didn't stir.

He said Lars.

It feels… weird, uninvited. It's only my name. But when Grens says it… it's almost uncomfortable.

He has never used my first name before.

I don't want him to do it ever again.

'The snitch?'

'The snitch. The informant. The covert human intelligence source. A criminal who commits crimes that we then overlook because he's helping us to deal with other crimes.'

Agestam had been holding the cup in front of his mouth throughout the whole conversation. He put it down now.

'Whose laptop?'

'You don't want to know.'

'Whose?'

'The county police commissioner.'

Lars Agestam got up from the table, disappeared out of the kitchen and up the stairs with hurried steps.

Ewert Grens watched him.

I've got more.

Vastmannagatan 79.

You'll get that as well. When we wrap all this up. In the next twenty-four hours.

Hurried steps down again. The prosecutor had a printer in his arms, linked it up to the laptop-they listened to three hundred two paper copies forming a pile, one at a time.

'You'll give it back?'

'Yes.'

'Do you need help?'

'No.'

'Sure?'

'The door's unlocked.'

The sun had taken over the kitchen, the light which had a short while ago been aided by bright bulbs was now strong enough to stand alone and he didn't notice when Agestam switched off the lights.

It was half past four, but the day had dawned.

'Lars:'

She was young and her hair was tangled. She had on a white robe and white slippers and she was very tired.

'I'm sorry. Did we wake you?'

'Why aren't you asleep?'

'This is Ewert Grens and-'

'I know who it is.'

'I'll be up in a while. We just need to finish up here.'

She sighed, she didn't weigh much, but her steps were heavier than even Grens's as she went back upstairs to the bedroom.

'Sorry, Agestam.'

'She'll go back to sleep.'

'She's still upset, isn't she?'

'She believes you made an error of judgment. I do too.'

'I apologized. Christ alive, it was five years ago now!'

'Grens?'

'Yes?'