and that the public was panic-stricken.
And, it went on, while the scent grew cold a whole army of Swedish Keystone Cops were, plodding about looking at porno pictures, scratching their heads and trying to make out the ministry of justice's hazy instructions as to what could be considered offensive to public decency.
When Kollberg arrived at Kungsholmsgatan at about four o'clock in the afternoon, he had ice crystals in his hair and eyebrows, a grim expression on his face and the evening papers under his arm.
If we had as many snouts as local rags, we'd never have to lift a finger,' he said.
'It's a question of money,' Melander said.
'I know that. Does that make it any better?'
'No,' Melander said. 'But it's as simple as that'
He knocked out his pipe and returned to his papers.
'Have you finished talking to the psychologists?' Kollberg asked sourly.
'Yes,' Melander replied without looking up. 'The compendium is being typed out'
A new face was to be seen at investigation headquarters. One third of the promised reinforcements had arrived. Månsson from Malmö.
Månsson was almost as big as Gunvald Larsson but he showed a much more peaceable front to the world. He had driven up from Skåne during the night in his own car. Not in order to be able to collect the paltry mileage allowance for petrol, but because he correctly considered it might be an advantage to have at his disposal a car with an M licence plate from the Malmö area.
He was standing now by the window, gazing out and chewing at a toothpick.
'Is there anything I can do?' he asked.
'Yes. There are one or two we haven't had time to interrogate yet. Here, for instance. Mrs Ester Källström. She is the widow of one of the victims.'
'Johan Källström, the foreman?' 'Precisely. Karlbergsvägen 89.' 'Where's Karlbergsvägen?'
'There's a map on the wall over there,' Kollberg said wearily.
Månsson laid the chewed toothpick in Melander's ashtray, took a new one out of his breast pocket and looked at it apathetically. He studied the map for a while, then put on his overcoat In the doorway he turned and looked at Kollberg.
'By the way...'
'Yes, what is it?'
'Do you know of any shop where"you can buy flavoured toothpicks?'
'No, I really don't'
'Oh,' Månsson said dejectedly.
Then he added informatively, 'I'm told they do exist I'm trying to give up smoking.'
When the door had closed behind him Kollberg looked at Melander and said, 'I've only met that guy once before. In Malmö in the summer of last year. And he said exactly the same thing then.'
'About the toothpicks?' 'Yes.'
'Extraordinary.' 'What?'
'Not being able to find out about them after more than a year.' 'Oh, you're hopeless,' Kollberg exclaimed. 'Are you in a bad mood?' 'What the hell do you expect?' Kollberg snapped. "There's no point in losing your temper. It only makes things worse.'
'I like that coming from you. You haven't any temper to lose.' Melander didn't reply to this, and the conversation came to an end.
----
Despite all statements to the contrary, the Great Detective the General Public was hard at work during the afternoon.
Several hundred people called up or looked in personally to say they thought they had ridden on that very bus.
All these statements had to be ground through the investigation mill and for once this tedious work turned out to be not entirely wasted.
A man who had boarded a doubledecker bus at Djurgärdsbron at about ten o'clock on Monday evening said he was willing to swear that he had seen Stenström. He said this on the telephone and he was passed along to Melander, who immediately asked him to come up.
The man was about fifty. He seemed quite sure. 'So you saw Detective Inspector Stenström?' 'Yes.' 'Where?'
'When I got on at Djurgärdsbron. He was sitting on the left near the stairs behind the driver.'
Melander nodded to himself. No details had as yet leaked out to the press about where the victims had been sitting in relation to each other.
'Are
And, it went on, while the scent grew cold a whole army of Swedish Keystone Cops were, plodding about looking at porno pictures, scratching their heads and trying to make out the ministry of justice's hazy instructions as to what could be considered offensive to public decency.
When Kollberg arrived at Kungsholmsgatan at about four o'clock in the afternoon, he had ice crystals in his hair and eyebrows, a grim expression on his face and the evening papers under his arm.
If we had as many snouts as local rags, we'd never have to lift a finger,' he said.
'It's a question of money,' Melander said.
'I know that. Does that make it any better?'
'No,' Melander said. 'But it's as simple as that'
He knocked out his pipe and returned to his papers.
'Have you finished talking to the psychologists?' Kollberg asked sourly.
'Yes,' Melander replied without looking up. 'The compendium is being typed out'
A new face was to be seen at investigation headquarters. One third of the promised reinforcements had arrived. Månsson from Malmö.
Månsson was almost as big as Gunvald Larsson but he showed a much more peaceable front to the world. He had driven up from Skåne during the night in his own car. Not in order to be able to collect the paltry mileage allowance for petrol, but because he correctly considered it might be an advantage to have at his disposal a car with an M licence plate from the Malmö area.
He was standing now by the window, gazing out and chewing at a toothpick.
'Is there anything I can do?' he asked.
'Yes. There are one or two we haven't had time to interrogate yet. Here, for instance. Mrs Ester Källström. She is the widow of one of the victims.'
'Johan Källström, the foreman?' 'Precisely. Karlbergsvägen 89.' 'Where's Karlbergsvägen?'
'There's a map on the wall over there,' Kollberg said wearily.
Månsson laid the chewed toothpick in Melander's ashtray, took a new one out of his breast pocket and looked at it apathetically. He studied the map for a while, then put on his overcoat In the doorway he turned and looked at Kollberg.
'By the way...'
'Yes, what is it?'
'Do you know of any shop where"you can buy flavoured toothpicks?'
'No, I really don't'
'Oh,' Månsson said dejectedly.
Then he added informatively, 'I'm told they do exist I'm trying to give up smoking.'
When the door had closed behind him Kollberg looked at Melander and said, 'I've only met that guy once before. In Malmö in the summer of last year. And he said exactly the same thing then.'
'About the toothpicks?' 'Yes.'
'Extraordinary.' 'What?'
'Not being able to find out about them after more than a year.' 'Oh, you're hopeless,' Kollberg exclaimed. 'Are you in a bad mood?' 'What the hell do you expect?' Kollberg snapped. "There's no point in losing your temper. It only makes things worse.'
'I like that coming from you. You haven't any temper to lose.' Melander didn't reply to this, and the conversation came to an end.
----
Despite all statements to the contrary, the Great Detective the General Public was hard at work during the afternoon.
Several hundred people called up or looked in personally to say they thought they had ridden on that very bus.
All these statements had to be ground through the investigation mill and for once this tedious work turned out to be not entirely wasted.
A man who had boarded a doubledecker bus at Djurgärdsbron at about ten o'clock on Monday evening said he was willing to swear that he had seen Stenström. He said this on the telephone and he was passed along to Melander, who immediately asked him to come up.
The man was about fifty. He seemed quite sure. 'So you saw Detective Inspector Stenström?' 'Yes.' 'Where?'
'When I got on at Djurgärdsbron. He was sitting on the left near the stairs behind the driver.'
Melander nodded to himself. No details had as yet leaked out to the press about where the victims had been sitting in relation to each other.
'Are
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