The Abominable Man
perfectly with no mistakes. He yawned and blinked and cleaned his glasses and started over from the beginning.
    The text before him was handwritten on a piece of brown paper bag from a state liquor store, and despite the misspellings and the writer’s shaky hand, it gave the impression of having been written with patience and industry.
    To His Honor The Justise Department Ombusman in Stockholm
    On the second of February this year I got drunk I had got my pay and boght a fith of vodka. I remember I was sitting singing down by the Djurgård ferry and then a police car came up and three Policemen just yung kids I am old enough to be there father althogh I would want my children to be Human Beings not Pigs like that if I had any got out and took away my bottel which there was some left in and dragged me to a gray VW bus and there was another Policeman with strips on his slieve and he grabbed me by the hair and when the others had threw me in the vehicle he hit my face several times against the floor and it started bleeding thogh I felt nothing at the time. Then I sat in a cell with bars and then came a big man and abserved me thrugh the door he laffed at my misery and told another Policeman to unlock the door and then he took of his coat which there was abroad strip on the sleive and rolled up his shirt-sleives and then he came in to the cell and shouted that I should stand at attension and that I had called the Police Nastards which maybe I had and I do not know wether he thot I ment Bastards or Nazis and I was sober then and he punched me in my stomuch and another place I wont right and I fell down and then he kicked me in the abdomen and other places and afterwards he left and first he sed now I knew what happened to people who fooled with the Police. The subsequent morning, I was released and then I asked who the Policeman was with the strip who kicked and shouted and punched but they said I better forget about that and I better go befor they changed there mind and give me a real working over. But a nother one who’s name was Vilford and was from the city of Gothenburg said that the one who kicked and shouted and hit me was named Chief Inspector Nyman and I would be well advised to keep my mouth shut. I have thought about this for several days and thought I am a ordanary common worker and I did not do anything bad except sing and be under the influance of Alcohol but I want to have my Rights because persons who kick and beat a poor drunk man who has always worked all his life shold not be a Policeman because he is not a proper person. I swear that this is true.
John Bertilsson, laborer
    It was a friend of mine at my work who is called the Proffessor who said I shold write this and I could get justise in this way which is now common.
The officer named in the complaint is Chief Inspector Stig Oscar Nyman. He knows nothing of the case. Emergency Squad commander, Lieutenant Harald Hult, certifies the apprehension of the complainant Bertilsson, who is a notorious troublemaker and alcoholic. No violence was employed in the apprehension of Bertilsson nor later in the detention cell. Chief Inspector Nyman was not even on duty at the time. Three patrolmen then on duty testify that no violence was employed against Bertilsson. This man shows alcoholic brain damage and is often delinquent. He is in the habit of bursting out with unfounded accusations against the patrolmen who are forced to take action against him.
    A red stamp completed the document : NO ACTION.
    Rönn sighed gloomily and wrote down the complainant’s name in his notebook. The woman who’d been stuck with this extra Saturday overtime slammed the file drawers demonstratively.
    So far she’d found seven complaints that had to do with Nyman in one way or another.
    One was now out of the way, and six remained. Rönn took them in order.
    The next letter was correctly addressed and neatly typed on heavy linen paper. The body of the letter

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