Roseanna

Martin Beck looked up from the records of the examinations when Melander opened the door to his office. This was something that didn't happen very often.

'Karl-Lke Eriksson-Stolt,' said Melander. 'Do you remember him?'

Martin Beck thought for a moment.

'Do you mean the fireman on the Diana? Was that his name?'

'He calls himself Eriksson now. Two and a half years ago he was called Eriksson-Stolt. That's when he was sentenced to a year in prison because he had seduced a girl who was not yet thirteen years old. Don't you remember? A tough, long-haired, fresh guy.'

'Yes, I think I remember. Are you sure it's the same fellow?'

'I checked with the Seamen's Association. It's the same guy.'

'I don't remember very well how it happened. Didn't he live in Sundyberg?'

'No, in Hagalund, with his mother. It happened one day when his mother was at work. He didn't go to work. He took the janitor's daughter home with him. She wasn't quite thirteen and it was later proven that she was a bit retarded. He managed to get her to drink alcohol, I think it was aquavit mixed with juice and when she was drunk enough, he slept with her.'

'Was it her parents who reported him?'

'Yes, and I went out to get him. During the examination he tried to play tough and stated that he had thought that the girl was of age and that she wanted to. She really didn't look a day over eleven and even then she seemed young for her age. The doctor who examined her said that she may have gone through shock, but I don't know. In any case, Eriksson was sentenced to a year of hard labor.'

Martin Beck had a chill when he realized that this man had been on board the Diana at the same time as Roseanna.

'Where is he now?' he asked.

'On a Finnish freighter. It's called the Kalajoki. I'll find out where she is. Notice that I said she.'

The same minute that Melander closed the door behind him, Martin Beck picked up the telephone and called Ahlberg.

'We've got to get hold of him,' said Ahlberg. 'Call me as soon as you have talked to the shipping line. I want him here, even if I have to swim after him myself. The other fireman has also shipped out on another boat, but I'll find out where soon. In addition, I ought to talk with the chief engineer again. He's left the sea and is now working for Electrolux.'

They hung up. Martin Beck sat unoccupied for a few minutes while he wondered what he should do. Suddenly, he became nervous, left his office, and walked upstairs.

Melander had just finished a telephone conversation when he entered the room. Kollberg wasn't there.

'That boat, the Kalajoki. It's just leaving Holmsund. It's tied up at Soderhamn for the night. The shipping line has confirmed the fact that he's on board.'

Martin Beck returned to his office and called Ahlberg again.

'I'll take one of my boys with me and drive up and get him,' said Ahlberg. 'I'll call you when we have got him.'

They were silent for a moment. Then Ahlberg said: 'Do you think it was he?'

'I don't know. It could be a possibility of course. I have only seen him once, and that was more than two years ago, just before he was sentenced. A pretty twisted type.'

Martin Beck spent the rest of the afternoon in his office. He wasn't in the mood to work but he managed to get a number of routine things done. He kept thinking about the Finnish freighter that was on its way to Soderhamn. And about Roseanna McGraw.

When he went home he tried to work on his model ship but after a while he merely sat there with his elbows on the table and his hands clasped in front of him. He could hardly expect to hear anything from Ahlberg before the next morning and finally he went to bed. He slept fitfully and awakened at five o'clock in the morning.

By the time the morning newspaper hit the floor with a thump he was already shaved and dressed. He had read through the sports pages by the time Ahlberg called.

'We have him here now. He's playing hard-boiled. Not saying anything. I can't exactly say that I like him. By the way, I've spoken to the Prosecutor. He says that we need an expert examiner and that I should ask you to come down. I think it's necessary.'

Martin Beck looked at his wristwatch. By now he knew the time-table by heart.

'Okay. I can make the seven-thirty train. See you. So long.'

He asked the taxi to drive past Kristineberg where he stopped for his file containing the examination records. At twenty-five minutes after seven he was sitting on the train.

Karl-Lke Eriksson-Stolt was born in Katarina parish twenty-two years ago. His father died when he was six years old and the following year his mother had moved to Hagalund. He was an only child. His mother, who was a seamstress, had supported him until he had finished school. The only teacher who had remembered him said that he had been of average intelligence, noisy and insubordinate. After he left school, he had held several different jobs, mostly as a messenger boy or a construction worker. When he was eighteen years old he went to sea, first as an ordinary seaman and then as a fireman. The Seamen's Association had nothing particular to say about him. One year later he moved back to his mother's and let her support him for a year until the State took over that detail. A year and a half ago he was released from the penitentiary.

Martin Beck had studied this record the day before but read through it carefully one more time. There was also a statement from the examining psychiatrist in the folder. It was rather short and mainly spoke about libido, lethargy and frigidity. In addition it stated that Karl-Lke Eriksson-Stolt had psychopathic tendencies and a strongly developed sex drive, a combination that could lead to abnormal expressions.

Martin Beck went directly to the police station from the railroad station and knocked on Ahlberg's door at ten minutes to eleven. Superintendent Larsson was in Ahlberg's office. They looked tired and worried and seemed relieved to pass the ball to someone else. Neither of them had succeeded in getting a word out of Eriksson with the exception of a number of swear words.

Ahlberg looked through the file quickly. When he closed it Martin Beck said: 'Did you get hold of the other fireman?'

'Yes, in a way. He's working on a German boat that is in the Hook of Holland right now. I telephoned Amsterdam this morning and spoke with the police superintendent there who knew & little German. You ought to hear my German. If I understood him correctly there is someone in the Hague who speaks Danish who could take care of the official examination. Now if he understood me correctly, we ought to hear something from there tomorrow.'

Ahlberg sent out for coffee and after Martin Beck had two cups, he said: 'Okay. We might as well start now. Where shall we work?'

'In the next room. There's a tape recorder and whatever else you need there.'

Eriksson looked just about the way Martin Beck had remembered him. About five feet, eleven inches tall, thin and gangly. A long, thin face with close-set blue eyes under long, curly eyelashes and straight, heavy eyebrows. A straight nose, a small mouth with thin lips and a weak chin. Long whiskers and a little dark mustache which Martin Beck could not remember having seen before. He had bad posture and was round-shouldered. He was dressed in a pair of old blue-jeans, a blue workshirt, black leather vest and black shoes with pointed toes.

'Sit down,' said Martin Beck and nodded toward a chair on the other side of the desk. 'Cigarette?'

Eriksson took the cigarette, lit it and sat down. He placed the cigarette in the corner of his mouth, slunk down in his chair and raised his right foot on his left knee. Then he put his thumbs inside his belt and tapped his left foot while he looked at the wall above Martin Beck's head.

Martin Beck looked at him for a moment, turned on the tape recorder which was placed on a low table beside him, and began to read some of the papers in his file.

'Eriksson, Karl-Lke. Born November 23, 1941. Seaman, currently employed on the Finnish freighter Kalajoki. Home address, Hagalund, Solna. Is that right?' Eriksson made a small motion with his head. 'I asked you a question. Is that right? Is the information correct? Answer. Yes or no.'

E: Yes, damn it.

B: When did you sign on the Kalajoki?