then let his chair spin around halfway until he was sitting with his back to the prosecutor, demonstrating his disgust.
Sven Sundkvist couldn’t bear any more tension between the detective superintendent and the public prosecutor, the silence that invaded as Ågestam stared at Grens’s neck, so he hurriedly interrupted.
“Schwarz’s reaction. I don’t think it’s got anything to do with the assault that he’s pleaded guilty to.”
“Continue.”
“Ewert, I think that the inertia he showed when we first took him in, his withdrawal interspersed with sudden, loud, horrible screams, it’s shock we’re dealing with. He’s frightened. He’s frightened of something that’s happened before, that somehow has something to do with this. Being locked up. Controlled. He’s experienced it before, he’s been damaged by it.”
Ewert Grens listened. He’s smart, Sven, I forget it every now and then, I must remember to tell him. He looked at all three of them in silence, before starting to speak.
“I want him in for questioning. Now. As soon as we’re done here.”
Ågestam nodded, turned toward Sven.
“You do it. Your theory, Sven, I buy that.”
Grens interrupted.
“So do I. But Hermansson will do the questioning.”
Interrogating Officer Mariana Hermansson (MH): Hi.
John Schwarz (JS): (inaudible) MH: My name’s Mariana.
JS: (inaudible) MH: I can’t hear what you’re saying. You’ll have to speak up.
Lars Ågestam looked at Ewert Grens in surprise.
“Hermansson? Isn’t Sundkvist better suited for this?”
“What the hell are you talking about, Ågestam? I’m sure that a smart young woman will get a lot further than a smart middle-aged man in this case.”
MH: Are you sitting comfortably?
JS: Yes.
MH: I understand if you’re nervous. Sitting here. It’s a strange situation.
“Trust. Hermansson will win his trust. She’ll help him with the small things first.”
MH: Do you smoke, John?
JS: Yes.
MH: I’ve got some cigarettes. Would you like one?
JS: Thanks.
“She’ll be friendly, continue to help him, she’ll be completely different from the rest of us bastards.”
MH: What’s your name?
JS: John.
MH: What’s your real name?
JS: That is my name. John.
MH: OK, so that’s your name. John?
JS: Yes?
MH: Did you know that your wife was here a couple of hours ago?
“You see, Ågestam, it gets fucking tough after a while, even when you have to . . . to sit there lying to someone who only wants the best for you. And Hermansson—Schwarz will be convinced—Hermansson will only want what’s best for him.”
MH: You have full restrictions. And you will until you talk. So long as you obstruct the investigation, you won’t be able to see your wife. Do you understand?
JS: Yes.
MH: She had a child with her too, a little boy, four, five years old. Your son, I guess? You won’t be able to see him either.
JS: I have to . . .
MH: But I can arrange it.
“After a while, interviewing officer Hermansson will start to pop up outside the interview room. And she’ll help him then too. She’s kind. She understands.”
MH: There’s a small park outside this building. Do you know it?
JS: No.
MH: You can meet him there. If I come with you. I find it hard to believe that you meeting with a five-year-old might complicate the investigation. What do you think?
“He’ll talk, Ågestam. They always do in the end. There will be a moment that crystallizes all Hermansson’s friendliness, kindness, and understanding, and when Schwarz feels it, Hermansson will take the next step, then she’ll make demands, she’ll demand something back.”
Ewert Grens stood up and walked to the door. He waited until the three people on the sofa had stood up as well.
“And then it will be his turn to give.”
The meeting was over.
He was convinced. Schwarz would talk soon.
Soon they would know who he was, where he came from.
KEVIN HUTTON SAT WITH THE BLINDS DOWN IN ROOM 9000 AT 550 Main Street in
Sven Sundkvist couldn’t bear any more tension between the detective superintendent and the public prosecutor, the silence that invaded as Ågestam stared at Grens’s neck, so he hurriedly interrupted.
“Schwarz’s reaction. I don’t think it’s got anything to do with the assault that he’s pleaded guilty to.”
“Continue.”
“Ewert, I think that the inertia he showed when we first took him in, his withdrawal interspersed with sudden, loud, horrible screams, it’s shock we’re dealing with. He’s frightened. He’s frightened of something that’s happened before, that somehow has something to do with this. Being locked up. Controlled. He’s experienced it before, he’s been damaged by it.”
Ewert Grens listened. He’s smart, Sven, I forget it every now and then, I must remember to tell him. He looked at all three of them in silence, before starting to speak.
“I want him in for questioning. Now. As soon as we’re done here.”
Ågestam nodded, turned toward Sven.
“You do it. Your theory, Sven, I buy that.”
Grens interrupted.
“So do I. But Hermansson will do the questioning.”
Interrogating Officer Mariana Hermansson (MH): Hi.
John Schwarz (JS): (inaudible) MH: My name’s Mariana.
JS: (inaudible) MH: I can’t hear what you’re saying. You’ll have to speak up.
Lars Ågestam looked at Ewert Grens in surprise.
“Hermansson? Isn’t Sundkvist better suited for this?”
“What the hell are you talking about, Ågestam? I’m sure that a smart young woman will get a lot further than a smart middle-aged man in this case.”
MH: Are you sitting comfortably?
JS: Yes.
MH: I understand if you’re nervous. Sitting here. It’s a strange situation.
“Trust. Hermansson will win his trust. She’ll help him with the small things first.”
MH: Do you smoke, John?
JS: Yes.
MH: I’ve got some cigarettes. Would you like one?
JS: Thanks.
“She’ll be friendly, continue to help him, she’ll be completely different from the rest of us bastards.”
MH: What’s your name?
JS: John.
MH: What’s your real name?
JS: That is my name. John.
MH: OK, so that’s your name. John?
JS: Yes?
MH: Did you know that your wife was here a couple of hours ago?
“You see, Ågestam, it gets fucking tough after a while, even when you have to . . . to sit there lying to someone who only wants the best for you. And Hermansson—Schwarz will be convinced—Hermansson will only want what’s best for him.”
MH: You have full restrictions. And you will until you talk. So long as you obstruct the investigation, you won’t be able to see your wife. Do you understand?
JS: Yes.
MH: She had a child with her too, a little boy, four, five years old. Your son, I guess? You won’t be able to see him either.
JS: I have to . . .
MH: But I can arrange it.
“After a while, interviewing officer Hermansson will start to pop up outside the interview room. And she’ll help him then too. She’s kind. She understands.”
MH: There’s a small park outside this building. Do you know it?
JS: No.
MH: You can meet him there. If I come with you. I find it hard to believe that you meeting with a five-year-old might complicate the investigation. What do you think?
“He’ll talk, Ågestam. They always do in the end. There will be a moment that crystallizes all Hermansson’s friendliness, kindness, and understanding, and when Schwarz feels it, Hermansson will take the next step, then she’ll make demands, she’ll demand something back.”
Ewert Grens stood up and walked to the door. He waited until the three people on the sofa had stood up as well.
“And then it will be his turn to give.”
The meeting was over.
He was convinced. Schwarz would talk soon.
Soon they would know who he was, where he came from.
KEVIN HUTTON SAT WITH THE BLINDS DOWN IN ROOM 9000 AT 550 Main Street in
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