The Laughing Policeman

'It was pure chance. After leaving you I walked towards town. On Skanstull Bridge two guys in a patrol car recognized me. They had just got the alarm on the radio and they drove me straight in. I was one of the first there.'

They sat in silence for a long time. Then Kollberg said in a puzzled tone, 'What do you think he wanted those pictures for?'

'To look at,' Martin Beck replied.

'Of course. But still...'

₁₃

Before Martin Beck left the flat on Wednesday morning he called up Kollberg. Their conversation was brief and to the point. 'Kollberg.'

'Hi. It's Martin. I'm leaving now.' 'OK.'

When the train glided into the underground station at Skarmarbrink, Kollberg was waiting on the platform. They had made it a habit always to get into the last carriage and in this way they often had each other's company into town even when they hadn't arranged it.

They got off at Medborgarplatsen and came up on to Folkungagatan. The time was twenty minutes past nine and a watery sun filtered through the grey sky. They turned up their coat collars against the icy wind and started walking east along Folkungagatan.

As they turned the corner into Ostgotagatan Kollberg said, 'Have you heard how the wounded man is? Schwerin?'

‘Yes, I called up the hospital this morning. The operations have succeeded insomuch as he's alive. But he's still unconscious and the doctors can't say anything about the outcome until he wakes up.'

'Is he going to wake up?' Martin Beck shrugged. 'They don't know. I certainly hope so.' 'I wonder how long it will be before the newspapers sniff him out.'

'At Karolinska they promised to keep their mouths shut/ Martin Beck said.

'Yes, but you know what journalists are. Like leeches.' They turned on to Tjarhovsgatan and walked along to number 18.

They found the name TORELL on the list of tenants in the entrance, but above the door plate two flights up was a white card with the name AKE STENSTROM drawn in India ink.

The girl who opened the door was small; automatically Martin Beck estimated her height at 5 feet 3 inches.

'Come in and take your coats off,' she said, closing the door behind them.

The voice was low and rather hoarse.

Asa Torell was dressed in narrow black slacks and a cornflower-blue rib-knit polo sweater. On her feet she had thick grey skiing socks which were several sizes too large and had presumably been Stenstrom's. She had brown eyes and dark hair cut very short. Her face was angular and could be called neither sweet nor pretty; if anything, quaint and piquant. She was slight of build, with slim shoulders and hips and small breasts.

She stood quiet and expectant while Martin Beck and Kollberg put their hats beside Stenstrom's old cap on the rack and took off their overcoats. Then she led the way into the flat

The living room, which had two windows on to the street, had a pleasant, cosy atmosphere. Against one wall stood a huge bookcase with carved sides and top piece. Apart from it and a wing chair upholstered in leather, the furniture looked fairly new. A bright-red rya rug covered most of the floor, and the thin woollen curtains had exactly the same shade of red.

The room was irregular in shape, and from the far corner, a short passage led out into the kitchen. Through an open door in the corridor one could see into the other rooms. The kitchen and bedroom faced the courtyard at the back.

Asa Torell sat in the leather armchair and tucked her feet under her. She pointed to two safari chairs, and Martin Beck and Kollberg sat down. The ashtray on the low table between them and the young woman was filled to overflowing with cigarette butts.

'I do hope you realize how sorry we are that we have to intrude like this,' Martin Beck said. 'But it was essential to talk to you as soon as possible.'

Asa Torell did not answer at once. She picked up the cigarette that lay burning on the edge of the ashtray and drew on it deeply. Her hand was inclined to shake and she had dark rings under her eyes.

'Of course I do,' she said. 'It was just as well you came. I've been sitting in this chair ever since... well, since I heard that... I've been sitting here trying to realize that it's true.'

'Miss Torell,' Kollberg said. 'Haven't you anyone who can come here and be with you?'

She shook her head.

'No. And anyway, I don't want anyone here.'

'Your parents?'

Again she shook her head.

'Mum died last year. And Dad has been dead for twenty years.' Martin Beck leaned forward and gave her a searching look. 'Have you slept at all?' he asked.

'I don't know. The ones that were here yesterday gave me a couple of pills, so I expect I did sleep for a while. It doesn't matter.' I'll be all right'

Stubbing out the cigarette, she murmured, her eyes lowered, 'I'll just have to try and get used to the fact that he's dead. It may take time.'

Neither Martin Beck nor Kollberg could think of anything to say. Martin Beck suddenly noticed that the room was stuffy and the air thick with cigarette smoke. An oppressive silence weighed on them all. At last Kollberg cleared his throat and said gravely, 'Miss Torell, do you mind if we ask you one or two things about Stenst— about Ake?'

Asa Torell raised her eyes slowly. Suddenly they twinkled and she smiled.

'You surely don't mean for me to call you Superintendent Beck and Inspector Kollberg? You must call me Asa, because I'm going to say Martin and Lennart to you. You see, I know you both quite well in a way'

She gave them a mischievous look and added, 'Through Ake. He and I saw quite a lot of each other. We've lived here for several years.'

Messrs Kollberg and Beck, undertakers, thought Martin Beck. Pull your socks up. The girl's OK.

‘We've heard about you, too,' Kollberg said in a lighter tone.

Asa went over and opened a window. Then she took the ashtray out into the kitchen. Her smile was gone and her face had a set look. She came back with a new ashtray and curled up again on the chair.

‘Would you mind telling me just what happened,' she said. 'I wasn't told much yesterday and I'm not going to read the papers.' Martin Beck lit a Florida. 'OK,' he said.

She sat quite still, never taking her eyes off him while he related the course of events as far as they had been able to reconstruct it Only certain details did he omit. When he had finished Asa said, 'Where was Ake going? Why was he on that bus at all?'

Kollberg glanced at Martin Beck and said, 'That's what we were hoping you would be able to tell us.'

Asa Torell shook her head.

'I've no idea.'

'Do you know what he was doing earlier in the day?' Martin Beck asked.

She looked at him in surprise.

'Don't you know? He was working all day. Surely you ought to know what he was doing?'

Martin Beck hesitated a moment. Then he said, 'The last time I saw him alive was on Friday. He was up for a while in the morning.'

She got up and paced about. Then she turned around.

'But he was working both on Saturday and on Monday. We left here together on Monday morning. Didn't you see Ake on Monday?' She stared at Kollberg, who shook his head.

'Did he say he was going out to Vastberga?' Kollberg asked. 'Or to Kungsholmsgatan?'

Asa thought for a moment

'No, he didn't say where he was going. That probably explains it He must have been working on something in town.'