The Man on the Balcony

Martin Beck shook his head.

'Only that. That he was with the girl and that they met a man. He just found the ticket by chance.'

Kollberg tipped back his chair and bit his thumbnail.

'So we have a witness who has presumably both seen and spoken to the murderer. It's just that this witness is only three years old. Had he been a little older…'

'The murder would never have happened,' Martin Beck broke in. 'At any rate not then and there.'

Melander came back.

'They said they'd call up soon.'

The call came through a quarter of an hour later. Melander listened and made notes. Then he said thank you and hung up.

Sure enough, the ticket had been bought on the twelfth of June. It had been sold by a ticket clerk at the northern barrier of the subway station at Radmansgatan. In order to pass that barrier one has to go down through one of the two entrances on either side of Sveavagen on a level with the School of Economics.

Martin Beck knew the Stockholm subway network very well but he still went over and looked at the wall map.

If the person who bought the ticket at Radmansgatan was on his way to Tanto Park, he must change trains either at T-Centralen, Gamla Stan or Slussen. In that case he would come to Zinkensdamm. From there it was about five minutes' walk to the spot where the dead girl had been found. The journey had been started between one thirty and one forty-five and should have taken about twenty minutes, allowing for changing trains. Between five minutes to two and ten minutes past the person in question could therefore have arrived at Tanto Park. According to the doctor the girl had probably died between two thirty and three o'clock, possibly a little earlier.

'As regards time it fits,' Martin Beck said. At the same second Kollberg said: 'It fits as regards time. If he went straight there.' Haltingly, as though speaking to himself, Melander said: 'The station isn't so far from Vanadis Park.' 'No,' Kollberg said. 'But what does that tell us? Nothing. That he rides on the subway from park to park and kills little girls? Come to that, why didn't he take the 55 bus? He could have gone all the way and not had to walk.' 'And probably been caught,' Melander said. 'Yes,' Kollberg agreed. 'There are never many people on that bus. They recognize the passengers.'

Sometimes Martin Beck wished that Kollberg were not quite so talkative. He wished it now, as he licked and stuck down the envelope with the ticket. He had tried to hold on to a thought that flashed past; had Kollberg kept quiet he might have succeeded. Now the moment had gone.

Having sent off the envelope he called up the laboratory and asked to have the result as soon as possible. The man who answered was called Hjelm and Martin Beck had known him for many years. He sounded rushed and was in a bad mood. He asked if the gentlemen at Kungsholmsgatan and Vastberga Alle knew how much he had to do. Martin Beck said he quite realized that their burden of work was inhuman and that he would gladly come along and give a hand if only he were skilled enough to carry out such exacting work. Hjelm muttered something and promised to deal with the ticket right away.

Kollberg went out to lunch and Melander shut himself up with his piles of papers. Before doing so he said:

'We have the name of the clerk who sold the ticket at Radmansgatan. Shall I get someone to talk to her?'

'By all means,' Martin Beck said.

He sat down at the desk, glanced through his papers and tried to think. He felt irritable and nervy and presumed that fatigue was to blame. Ronn stuck his head in, looked at him and vanished without a word. Otherwise he was left in peace. Even the telephone was silent for a long time. Just as he was on the verge of dozing off at his desk, something which had never happened before, the phone rang. Before picking up the receiver he looked at the time. Twenty minutes past two. Still Friday. Bravo Hjelm, he thought.

It was not Hjelm but Ingrid Oskarsson.

'Sorry to disturb you,' she said. 'You must be awfully busy.'

Martin Beck mumbled some kind of answer and heard himself how unenthusiastic he sounded.

'But you said I was to ring. It may not be important, but I thought I'd better tell you.'

'Yes, of course, forgive me, I didn't hear who it was,' Martin Beck said. 'What has happened?'

'Lena suddenly remembered something Bosse said in the park on Monday. When that happened.'

'Oh? What?'

'She says he told her he had met his day daddy.'

'Day daddy?' he asked.

And thought: Are there such things?

'Yes. Bosse was with a day mother during the daytime earlier this year. There are so few day nurseries and I didn't know what to do with him while I was at work. So I advertised and found a day mother for him in Timmermansgatan.'

'But didn't you just say 'day daddy'?'

'No, no, what I meant was, this day mother had a husband, he wasn't there all day but he often came home early, so Bosse saw him nearly every day. And he started calling him day daddy.'

'And Bosse told Lena that he met him in Tanto Park on Monday?'

Martin Beck felt his tiredness vanish. Reaching for the note pad he felt in his pocket for a pen.

'That's right,' Mrs. Oskarsson said.

'Did Lena gather whether it was before or after the time he was missing?'

'She's sure he didn't say it until afterwards. That's why I thought I'd better tell you. I don't suppose it has anything to do with it at all, he seemed so nice and kind, that man. But if Bosse met him, perhaps he in his turn might have seen or heard something…'

Martin Beck put pen to paper and asked:

'What's his name?'

'Eskil Engstrom. He's a truck driver, I think. They live in Timmermansgatan. I've forgotten the number, can you wait a second and I'll have a look.'

She came back a minute later and gave him address and telephone number.

'He seemed such a nice man,' she said. 'I saw him quite often when I called for Bosse.'

'Did Bosse say anything more about this meeting with the day daddy?'

'No. And we've tried to get him to tell us about it now, but he seems to have forgotten it.' 'What does the man look like?'

'Well, it's hard to say. Pleasant. Bit down at heel, perhaps, but that may be due to his job. He's about forty- five or fifty, thin-haired. Looks very ordinary.'

There was silence for a while as Martin Beck made notes. Then he said:

'If I understand rightly, you don't leave Bosse with this day mother any more?'

'No. They've no children of their own, it was so dull for him. I was promised a vacancy at a day nursery, but a mother who was a nurse got it instead. They have priority around here.'

'Where is Bosse now in the daytime?' 'At home. I had to give up my job.' 'When did you stop leaving him with the Engstroms?' She thought for a moment and then said: 'The first week in April. I had a week off then. When I started work again Mrs. Engstrom had taken a new day child and couldn't have Bosse.'

'Did Bosse like being with her?'

'Fairly well. I think he liked Mr. Engstrom best. The day daddy, that is. Do you think he was the one who gave Bosse the ticket?'

'I don't know,' Martin Beck replied. 'But I'll try and find out.'

'I want to help all I can,' she said. 'We're going away this evening, you know that?'

'Yes, I know. Hope you have a nice trip. Say hello to Bosse for me.'

Martin Beck put down the receiver, thought for a moment, lifted it again and rang the vice squad.

While waiting for the information he had asked for, he pulled over one of the files lying on the desk and turned the pages until he came to the transcript of the nocturnal interrogation with Rolf Evert Lundgren. He carefully read Lundgren's scant description of the man he had seen in Vanadis Park. Mrs. Oskarsson's description of