The Laughing Policeman

Gunvald Larsson did not finish the sentence, but he had given Martin Beck something to think about.

Kollberg plodded away with his lists but preferred not to show them to anyone. He began more and more to understand how Stenstrom had felt while he was working on his old case. As Martin Beck had rightly pointed out, the Teresa investigation was unassailable. Some incorrigible stickler for form had even made the comment that 'technically the case was solved and the investigation was a model of perfectly carried out police work'.

The consequences of this should be the much talked-of perfect crime.

The work with the list of men who had associated with Teresa Camarao was by no means easy. It was amazing how many people managed to die, emigrate or change their names in sixteen years. Others had become incurably insane and awaited the end in some institution. Still others were in prison or in homes for chronic alcoholics. A number had simply disappeared, either at sea or in some other way. Many had long since moved to distant parts of the country, made a new life for themselves and their families and could in most cases be written off after a quick routine check-up. By this time Kollberg had twenty-nine names on his list. Individuals who were at large and still lived in Stockholm or at any rate in the vicinity of the city. Up to now he had collected only summary information about these people. Present age, profession, postal address and civil status. At the moment the list was as follows, numbered from one to twenty-nine and arranged in alphabetical order:

Sven Ahlgren, 41, shop assistant, Stockholm NO, married

Karl Andersson 63, ?, Stockholm SV (Hogalid institution), unmarried

Ingvar Bengtsson, 43, journalist, Stockholm Va, divorced

Rune Bengtsson, 56, businessman, Stocksund, married

Jan Carlsson, 46, second-hand dealer, Upplands Vasby, unmarried

Rune Carlsson, 32, engineer, Nacka 5, married

Stig Ekberg, 83, former labourer, Stockholm SV (Rosenlund Home for the Aged), widower

Ove Eriksson, 47, car mechanic, Bandhagen, married

9. Valter Eriksson, 69, former docker, Stockholm SV (Hogalid institution), widower.

Stig Ferm, 31, house painter, Sollentuna, married

Bjorn Forsberg, 48, businessman, Stocksund, married

Bengt Fredriksson, 56, artist, Stockholm C, divorced

Bo Frostensson, 66, actor, Stockholm 0, divorced

Johan Gran, 52, former waiter, Solna, unmarried

JanSke Karlsson, 38, clerk, Enkdping, married

Kenneth Karlsson, 33, lorry driver, Skalby, unmarried

Lennart Lindgren, 81, former bank manager, Lidingo 1, married

Sven Lundstrom, 37, warehouseman, Stockholm K, divorced

Tage Nilsson, 61, lawyer, Stockholm SO, unmarried

Carl-Gustaf Nilsson, 51, former mechanic, Johanneshov, divorced

Heinz Ollendorf, 46, artist, Stockholm K, unmarried

Kurt Olsson, 59, civil servant, Saltsjobaden, married

Bernhard Peters, 39, commercial artist, Bromma, married (Negro)

Vilhelm Rosberg, 71, ?, Stockholm SV, widower

Bernt Turesson, 42, mechanic, Gustavsberg, divorced

Ragnar Viklund, 60, major, Vaxholm, married

Bengt Wahlberg, 38, buyer (?), Stockholm K, unmarried

Hans Wennstrom, 76, former assistant fishmonger, Solna, unmarried

Lennart Oberg, 35, civil engineer, Enskede, married

Kollberg sighed and looked at the list. Teresa Camarao had included all social groups in her activities. She had also operated within different generations. When she died the youngest of these men had been fifteen and the eldest sixty-seven. On this list alone there was everything from bank managers in Stocksund to alcoholic old burglars at the Hogalid institution.

'What are you going to do with that?' Martin Beck asked.

'Don't know,' Kollberg replied despondently but truthfully.

Then he went in and laid the papers on Melander's desk.

'You remember everything. When you have a moment to spare, will you see if you recall anything extraordinary about any of these men?'

Melander cast a blank look at the list and nodded.

On the twenty-third Mansson and Nordin flew home, missed by nobody. They were to return immediately after Christmas.

Outside, the weather was cold and horrible.

The consumer society creaked at the joints. On this particular day everything could be sold, at any price. Very often upon presentation of credit cards and dud cheques.

On his way home that evening, Martin Beck thought that Sweden now had, not only its first mass murder, but also its first unsolved police murder.

The investigation had stuck fast. And technically - unlike the Teresa investigation - it looked like a pile of rubbish.

₂₈

Christmas Eve arrived.

Martin Beck got a Christmas present which, despite all speculations to the contrary, did not make him laugh.

Lennart Kollberg got a Christmas present which made his wife cry...

Both had resolved not to give a thought either to Ake Stenstrom or Teresa Camarao, and both failed in their intention.

Martin Beck woke up early but stayed in bed reading the book about the Graf Spee until the rest of the family began to show signs of life. Then he got up, put away the suit he had worn the day before and pulled on a pair of jeans and a sweater. His wife, who thought people ought to be dressed up on Christmas Eve, frowned as she eyed his clothes but for once said nothing.

While she paid her traditional visit to her parents' grave, Martin Beck decorated the tree together with Rolf and Ingrid. The children were noisy and excited, and he did his best not to dampen their spirits. His wife returned from her ritual call on the dead and he gamely joined in a custom that he didn't care for - dipping bread into the pot in which the ham had been cooked.

Before long the dull pain in his stomach made itself felt Martin Beck was so used to these attacks that he paid no attention to them any more, but he had an idea that they had been occurring more frequently and more violently of late. Nowadays he never told Inga that he was in pain. At one time he had done so, and she had nearly been the death of him with her herbal potions and incessant fussing. For her, illness was an event on a par with life itself.

The Christmas dinner was colossal, considering it was meant for only four, one of whom very seldom managed to get down a normal portion of cooked food, one was dieting and one was too exhausted by the work of preparing it to eat. That left Rolf, who, on the other hand, ate all the more. He was twelve years old and Martin Beck never ceased to be amazed that his son's spindly body was able to dispose of as much food in a day as he himself forced himself to eat in a week.

They all lent a hand with the washing-up, this too something that happened only on Christmas Eve.

Then Martin Beck lit the candles on the tree, thinking of the Assarsson brothers who imported plastic Christmas trees as a cover for their drugs traffic. Then came the hot punch and the gingerbread biscuits and Ingrid who said, 'Now I think it's time to lead in the horse.'

As usual they had all promised to give only one present to each and as usual they had all bought a lot more.

Martin Beck had not bought a horse for Ingrid, but as a substitute he gave her some riding breeches and paid for her riding lessons for the next six months.

His own presents included a model construction kit of the clipper ship Cutty Sark and a scarf two yards long, knitted by Ingrid.

She also gave him a flat package, watching him expectantly as he unwrapped the paper. Inside was a 45