meant that Gunvald Larsson, who was always punctual, had already been with Mrs Assarsson for twenty minutes. By this time he had probably found out the main events of her husband's life ever since he started school; Gunvald Larsson's interrogation technique was to begin at the beginning and uncover eveiything step by step. While the method could be effective, often it was merely tiresome and wasted time.
The door of the flat was opened by a middle-aged man wearing a dark suit with a silver-white tie. Martin Beck introduced himself and showed his official badge. The man held out his hand.
'I'm Ture Assarsson, brother of the... of the dead man. Please come in, your colleague is already here.'
He waited while Martin Beck hung up his overcoat and then led the way through a pair of tall double doors.
'Marta, my dear, this is Superintendent Beck,' he said.
The living room was large and rather dark. In a low, oat-coloured sofa, which was over three yards long, sat a lean woman in a black jersey coat and skirt, with a glass in her hand. Putting the glass down on a black marble table in front of the sofa, she held out her hand with gracefully bent wrist, as though expecting him to kiss it Martin Beck took her dangling fingers clumsily and mumbled, 'My condolences, Mrs Assarsson.'
On the other side of the marble table stood a group of three low, pink easy chairs, and in one of them sat Gunvald Larsson, looking peculiar. Only when Martin Beck, after a condescending gesture from Mrs Assarsson, sat down himself did he realize Gunvald Larsson's problem.
As the construction of the chair really permitted only an outstretched horizontal position, and it would look odd with a reclining interrogator, Gunvald Larsson had more or less folded himself double. He was red in the face from the discomfort and glared at Martin Beck between his knees, which stuck up like two alpine peaks in front of him.
Martin Beck twisted his legs first to the left, then to the right, then he tried to cross them and wedge them under the chair, but it was too low. At last he adopted the same position as Gunvald Larsson.
Meanwhile the widow had drained her glass and held it out to her brother-in-law to be refilled. He gave her a searching look and then went and fetched a carafe and a clean glass from a sideboard.
'You'll have a glass of sherry, won't you, Superintendent' he said.
And before Martin Beck had time to protest the man had filled the glass and placed it on the table in front of him.
I was just asking Mrs Assarsson if she knew why her husband was on that bus on Monday night' Gunvald Larsson said
'And I gave the same reply to you as I did to the person who had the bad taste to question me about my husband only seconds after I had been informed of his death. That I don't know.'
She raised her glass to Martin Beck and drained it in one gulp. Martin Beck made an attempt to reach his sherry glass but missed by about a foot and fell back into the chair.
'Do you know where your husband was earlier in the evening?' he asked.
Putting down her glass, she took an orange-coloured cigarette with a gold tip out of a green glass box on the table. She fumbled with the cigarette and tapped it several times on the lid of the box before allowing her brother-in-law to light it for her. Martin Beck noticed that she was not quite sober.
'Yes, I do,' she said. 'He was at a meeting. We had dinner at six o'clock, then he changed and went out at about seven.'
Gunvald Larsson took a piece of paper and a ball-point pen out of his breast pocket and asked, as he dug at his ear with the pen, 'A meeting? Where and with whom?'
Assarsson looked at his sister-in-law and when she didn't answer he said, 'It was an organization of old school friends. They called themselves the Camels. It consisted of nine members, who had kept in touch ever since they were at the naval cadet school together. They used to meet at the home of a businessman called Sjöberg on Narvavägen.'
"The
The door of the flat was opened by a middle-aged man wearing a dark suit with a silver-white tie. Martin Beck introduced himself and showed his official badge. The man held out his hand.
'I'm Ture Assarsson, brother of the... of the dead man. Please come in, your colleague is already here.'
He waited while Martin Beck hung up his overcoat and then led the way through a pair of tall double doors.
'Marta, my dear, this is Superintendent Beck,' he said.
The living room was large and rather dark. In a low, oat-coloured sofa, which was over three yards long, sat a lean woman in a black jersey coat and skirt, with a glass in her hand. Putting the glass down on a black marble table in front of the sofa, she held out her hand with gracefully bent wrist, as though expecting him to kiss it Martin Beck took her dangling fingers clumsily and mumbled, 'My condolences, Mrs Assarsson.'
On the other side of the marble table stood a group of three low, pink easy chairs, and in one of them sat Gunvald Larsson, looking peculiar. Only when Martin Beck, after a condescending gesture from Mrs Assarsson, sat down himself did he realize Gunvald Larsson's problem.
As the construction of the chair really permitted only an outstretched horizontal position, and it would look odd with a reclining interrogator, Gunvald Larsson had more or less folded himself double. He was red in the face from the discomfort and glared at Martin Beck between his knees, which stuck up like two alpine peaks in front of him.
Martin Beck twisted his legs first to the left, then to the right, then he tried to cross them and wedge them under the chair, but it was too low. At last he adopted the same position as Gunvald Larsson.
Meanwhile the widow had drained her glass and held it out to her brother-in-law to be refilled. He gave her a searching look and then went and fetched a carafe and a clean glass from a sideboard.
'You'll have a glass of sherry, won't you, Superintendent' he said.
And before Martin Beck had time to protest the man had filled the glass and placed it on the table in front of him.
I was just asking Mrs Assarsson if she knew why her husband was on that bus on Monday night' Gunvald Larsson said
'And I gave the same reply to you as I did to the person who had the bad taste to question me about my husband only seconds after I had been informed of his death. That I don't know.'
She raised her glass to Martin Beck and drained it in one gulp. Martin Beck made an attempt to reach his sherry glass but missed by about a foot and fell back into the chair.
'Do you know where your husband was earlier in the evening?' he asked.
Putting down her glass, she took an orange-coloured cigarette with a gold tip out of a green glass box on the table. She fumbled with the cigarette and tapped it several times on the lid of the box before allowing her brother-in-law to light it for her. Martin Beck noticed that she was not quite sober.
'Yes, I do,' she said. 'He was at a meeting. We had dinner at six o'clock, then he changed and went out at about seven.'
Gunvald Larsson took a piece of paper and a ball-point pen out of his breast pocket and asked, as he dug at his ear with the pen, 'A meeting? Where and with whom?'
Assarsson looked at his sister-in-law and when she didn't answer he said, 'It was an organization of old school friends. They called themselves the Camels. It consisted of nine members, who had kept in touch ever since they were at the naval cadet school together. They used to meet at the home of a businessman called Sjöberg on Narvavägen.'
"The
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