The Man Who Went Up In Smoke by Maj Sjöwall, Per Wahlöö Page B

friends?"
    'No, not at all. I only… know him."
    At this stage he was almost convinced that she was telling the truth and that his vague idea that had taken him to the house in Újpest had been a false trail. But it's an ill wind that brings no one any good, he thought.
    She was clinging to his arm a little now and zigzagging with her feet so that her body swung back and forth on a vertical axle.
    'What kind of boat is that?" he said.
    'It goes on moonlight cruises up the river, then around Margaret Island and back. It takes about an hour. Costs next to nothing. Shall we go along on it?"
    They went on board and soon afterward the boat set out, peacefully splashing in the dark current. Of all the types of engine-driven vessels yet constructed, there is none that moves so pleasantly as the paddle steamer.
    They stood above the wheelhouse and watched the shores gliding by. She leaned against him, quite lightly, and he now felt very clearly something he had noticed earlier: that she had no bra on under her dress.
    A small ensemble was playing on the afterdeck and a number of people were dancing.
    'Do you want to dance?" she said.
    'No," said Martin Beck.
    'Good. I don't think it's much fun either."
    A moment later she said, "But I can, if necessary."
    'So can I," said Martin Beck.
    The boat passed Margaret Island and Újpest, before turning and soundlessly gliding back southward with the current. They stood behind the funnel for a moment and looked through the open hatches. The engine was beating with calm pulse beats, the copper pipes were shining and the warm oily current of air was flung upward in their direction.
    'Have you been on this boat before?" he said.
    'Yes, many a time. It's the best thing to do in this city on a really hot evening."
    He did not really know who she was and what he thought of her, and this, above all else, irritated him.
    The boat passed the colossal Parliament building—where nowadays a small red star shone discreetly above the central cupola—and then it slipped its lowered funnel under the bridge with large stone lions on it and hove to at the same place as where they started.
    As they walked along the gangplank, Martin Beck let his eyes sweep over the quay. Under the lamp by the ticket office stood the tall man with dark hair brushed back on his head. He was again wearing his blue suit and was staring straight at them. A moment later the man turned around and vanished with swift steps behind the shelter. The woman followed Martin Beck's glance and put her left hand in his right one, suddenly but carefully.
    'Did you see that man?" he said.
    'Yes," she said.
    'Do you know who he is?"
    She shook her head.
    'No. Do you?"
    'No, not yet."
    Martin Beck felt hungry for once. He had had no lunch and the dinner hour would soon be over.
    'Would you like to come and have a meal with me?"
    'Where?"
    'At the hotel."
    'Can I go there in these clothes?"
    'Sure."
    He almost added, "We're not in Sweden now."
    Quite a number of people were still in the dining room and along the balustrade outside the open windows. Swarms of insects were dancing around the lamps.
    'Little gnats," she said. "They don't sting. When they disappear, the summer's over. Did you know that?"
    The food was excellent, as usual, and so was the wine. She was evidently hungry and ate with a healthy, youthful greed. Then she sat still and listened to the music. They smoked with their coffee and drank a kind of cherry-brandy liqueur which also tasted of chocolate. When she put out her cigarette in the ash tray, she brushed his right hand with her fingertips, as if by accident. A little later she repeated the maneuver and soon after that he felt her foot against his ankle under the table. Evidently she had kicked off her sandal.
    After a while she moved her foot and her hand away and went off to the powder room.
    Martin Beck thoughtfully massaged his hairline with the fingers of his right hand. Then he leaned over the table and picked up the