Roseanna

'With what? Help me? How can you help me? Now, after this?'

'I want to help you to remember.'

'Yes.'

'But you must try, too.'

'Yes.'

'Try to remember what happened after you went on board the Diana in Soderkoping. You had your motor bike and fishing things with you and the boat was a lot behind schedule.'

'Yes, I remember. The weather was beautiful.'

'What did you do when you went on board?'

'I think I ate breakfast. I hadn't eaten earlier because I remember that I planned to eat on board.'

'Did you talk with the people at your table?'

'No, I think I was alone. The others had already eaten.'

'And then? After you had eaten?'

'I suspect I went out on the deck. Yes, that's what I did. The weather was good.'

'Did you talk to anyone?'

'No, I stood by myself up in the bow. Then it was time for lunch.'

'Did you eat alone then too?'

'No, there were others at the table, but I didn't talk to anyone.'

'Was Roseanna McGraw at your table?'

'I don't remember. I didn't think much about who sat there.'

'Do you remember how you met her?'

'No, actually not.'

'Last time you said that she asked you about something and that you began to have a conversation.'

'Yes, that's right. Now I remember. She asked me what was the name of the place we were passing.'

'What was it called?'

'Norsholm, I think.'

'And then she stayed there and talked to you?'

'Yes. I don't remember much of what she said.'

'Did you think badly of her immediately?'

'Yes.'

'Why did you talk with her then?'

'She forced herself on me. She stayed there and talked and laughed. She was like all the others. Shameless.'

'What did you do then?'

'Then?'

'Yes, didn't you go on land together?'

'She followed me when I left the boat for a while.'

'What did you talk about?'

'I don't remember. Everything and anything. Nothing in particular. I remember thinking that it was good practice for my English.'

'When you went back on board, what did you do then?'

'I don't know. I really don't remember. Maybe we ate dinner later.'

'Did you meet her later that evening?'

'I remember that I stood in the bow for a while after it got dark. But I was alone then.'

'Didn't you meet her that evening? Try to remember.'

'I think so. I don't really know, but I think that we sat on a bench in the stern and talked. I really wanted to be left in peace but she forced herself on me.'

'Didn't she invite you into her cabin?'

'No.'

'Later that evening you killed her, isn't that so?'

'No, I didn't do anything like that.'

'Do you really not remember that you killed her?'

'Why are you plaguing me? Stop repeating that word all the tune. I didn't do anything.'

'I don't want to plague you.'

Was that the truth? Martin Beck didn't know. Anyway he suspected that the man was on the defensive again, that his barriers against the outer world were on the point of functioning again, and that it would be more difficult to breach them the more he tried to break them down.

'Well, it's not so important.'

The look in the man's eyes once again lost its sharpness and became frightened and roaming.

'You don't understand me,' he said thickly.

'I'm trying to. I understand that you don't like a number of people. That you find them repulsive.'

'Don't you understand that? People can be disgusting.'

'Yes, I understand. You think particularly badly of a certain category, especially the women who you call shameless. Is that right?'

The man didn't say anything.

'Are you religious?'

'No.'

'Why not?'

He shrugged his shoulders confusedly.

'Do you read religious books or magazines?'

'I've read the Bible.'

'Do you believe in it?'

'No, there's too much in it that can't be explained and is passed over.'

'What, for example?'

'All the dirtiness.'

'Do you think that women like Roseanna McGraw and Miss Hansson are dirty?'

'Yes. Don't you agree? Look at all the disgusting things that happen all around us. I read the newspapers for a few weeks at the end of the year and they were full of disgusting things every day. Why do you think that is?'

'And you don't want to have anything to do with these dirty people?'

'No, I don't.'

He held his breath for a second and added: 'Absolutely not.'

'Okay, so you don't like them. But don't women like Roseanna McGraw and Sonja Hansson have a great deal of attraction for you? Don't you want to look at them and touch them? Feel their bodies?'

'You don't have the right to say such things to me.'

'Don't you want to look at their legs and arms? To feel their skin?'

'Why are you saying these things?'

'Don't you want to feel them? Take off their clothes? See them naked?'

'No, no, that's not so.'

'Don't you want to feel their hands on your body? Don't you want them to touch you?'

'Be quiet,' screamed the man, and started to get out of his chair.

His sudden movement caused him to pant and he grimaced badly. Probably it had hurt his wounded arm.

'Oh well, there's nothing unusual about that. Actually it is really very normal. I have the same thoughts when I see certain women.'

The man stared at him.

'Are you saying that I am not normal?'

Martin Beck said nothing.

'Are you stating that I would be abnormal just because I had a few shameful feelings in my body?'