At ten minutes after nine the sound of the telephone broke the silence. Martin Beck picked up the receiver.
'He's here again. He's standing by the bus stop.'
They got there fifteen seconds faster than the last time in spite of the fact that Kollberg had parked on the street. After another thirty seconds they saw the signal indicating that Ahlberg was in his place.
The repetition was almost frightening. The man named Folke Bengtsson wandered around Eriksberg Square for four hours. Four or five times, he hesitated outside the telephone booth. Once he stopped and ate a frankfurter. Then he rode home. Kollberg followed him.
Martin Beck had been very cold. He walked quickly back to the police station with his hands in his pockets and his eyes on the ground.
Kollberg arrived a half hour later.
'Everything's quiet.'
'Did he see you?'
'He was like a sleepwalker. I don't think he would have seen a hippopotamus three feet in front of him.'
Martin Beck dialed Policewoman Sonja Hansson's number. He felt that he must think about her
'Hello. It's Saturday tomorrow, or more correctly, today. He works until noon. Be there when he finishes work. Rush past him as if he were on your way somewhere. Take hold of his arm and say: 'Hi, I've been waiting for you. Why haven't I heard from you?' or something like that. Don't say any more. Then take off. Leave your coat open too.'
He paused briefly.
'You have to do your very best this time.'
He hung up. The others stared at him.
'Which one of you is the best tail?' he said absently.
'Stenstrom.'
'Okay. From the minute he leaves his house early tomorrow morning I want him followed. Stenstrom can do it. Report all his movements. Here. On the other telephone. Two of us must be here all the time.'
Ahlberg and Kollberg were still staring at him but he didn't notice.
At twenty-two minutes to eight Bengtsson walked out of his front door and Stenstrom's assignment had begun.
He stayed near the moving company's office on Smlland
Street until quarter after eleven when he went into a cafe and sat down by the window waiting.
At five minutes to twelve he saw Sonja Hansson on the corner.
She was dressed in a thin, blue tweed coat which was open. He could see that her belt was drawn tightly around her waist. Under the coat she had on a black turtleneck sweater. She was bare-headed and carried gloves but no pocketbook. Her stockings and black pumps seemed much too thin for the weather.
She continued across the street and disappeared out of his sight.
The moving company's employees began to leave the office and finally the man named Bengtsson came out and locked the door. He ambled along the sidewalk and when he had moved a few feet, Sonja Hansson came running toward him. She greeted him, took hold of his arm, and said something to him as she looked in his eyes. She let go of his arm almost immediately and continued talking while she took a few steps away from him. Then she turned on her heels and ran on.
Stenstrom had seen her face. It had expressed eagerness, pleasure and appeal. Silently he applauded her performance.
The man remained where he was and watched her run down the street. He moved slightly, as if to follow her, but changed his mind, put his hands in his pockets and walked off slowly with his head lowered.
Stenstrom got his hat, paid the cashier, and looked out the door carefully. When Bengtsson had turned the corner, Stenstrom left and followed him.
At the Klara Police Station Martin Beck stared dismally at the telephone. Ahlberg and Kollberg had temporarily given up their chess game and sat silently behind their newspapers. Kollberg was working on a crossword puzzle and chewing frantically on a pencil.
When the telephone finally rang, he bit so hard on the pencil that it broke in two.
Martin Beck had the receiver at his ear before the first ring ended.
'Hi. It's Sonja. I think it went well. I did exactly as you said.'
'Good. Did you see Stenstrom?'
'No, but I guess he was there someplace. I didn't dare turn around so I just kept on going for several blocks.'
'Are you nervous?'
'No. Not at all.'
It was a quarter after one before the telephone rang again.
'I'm in a tobacco shop on Jarn Square,' said Stenstrom. 'Sonja was great. She must have put a few bees in his bonnet. We've walked through the center of town, over the main bridge and now he's wandering around in the Old City.'
'Be careful.'
'No problem. He's walking like a zombie. He doesn't see or hear anything around him. I've got to take off now so that I don't lose him.'
Ahlberg got up and walked back and forth on the floor.
'It's not exactly a pleasant job we've given her,' he said.
'She'll do fine,' said Kollberg. 'She'll take care of the rest of it well too. I hope Stenstrom doesn't scare him off though.'
'Stenstrom's okay,' he said, after a while.
Martin Beck said nothing.
It was a few minutes after three when they heard from Stenstrom again.
'Now we're on Folkung Street. He just keeps going up and down the streets. He never stops and never looks around. He seems apathetic in some way.'
'Just keep on,' Martin Beck replied.
Normally, it would take a lot to break down Martin Beck's calm exterior. But after he had looked from the clock to the telephone for forty-five minutes and no one in the room had uttered a word, he suddenly got up and went out.
Ahlberg and Kollberg looked at one another. Kollberg shrugged his shoulders and began to set up the chess board.
Out in the washroom Martin Beck rinsed his hands and face with cold water and dried himself carefully. When he walked out into the corridor, a policeman in shirtsleeves told him that he had a telephone call.
It was his wife.
'I haven't seen hide nor hair of you for an eternity and now I'm not even supposed to call you. What are you doing? When are you coming home?' 'I don't know,' he said tiredly.
She continued to talk and her voice became harsh and shrill. He broke in and interrupted her in the middle of a sentence.
'I don't have time now,' he said irritably. 'Goodbye. Don't call any more.'
He regretted his tone before he put down the receiver but shrugged his shoulders and went back to his chess-playing colleagues.
Stenstrom's third call came from Skepps Bridge. By then it was twenty minutes to five.
'He went into a restaurant for a while. He's sitting alone in a corner drinking a beer. We've walked around the entire southern part of the city. He still seems strange.'
Martin Beck realized that he hadn't eaten anything all day. He sent out for some food from the cafeteria across the street. After they had eaten Kollberg fell asleep in his chair and began to snore.
When the telephone rang he woke up with a start. It was seven o'clock.
'He's been sitting here until now and he's had four beers. He's just left and is on his way toward the center of the city again. He's walking faster now. I'll call in as soon as I can. So long.'
