Helene Tursten - Detective Inspector Huss

Andersson saw Birgitta turn pale as wax. For a moment he thought she was going to faint. When she spoke again her lips barely moved. “I’ve had enough. That was the last straw!”

She directed her gaze toward Andersson. Usually her brown eyes gleamed and laughed, but now they were like molten lead.

“Ever since I started here I’ve been forced to take it from that idiot. First he tried to grope me, but when I quite clearly explained what I thought of such behavior, the taunting started. That I’ve got ‘round heels.’ An easy lay. You heard it yourself just now: ‘God damn whore.’ I have to put up with ‘playful’ slaps on my butt. I got an interdepartmental envelope that’s full of pictures of huge balls and lesbian couples cut out of porno magazines. I’ve always known that Jonny was behind it, but couldn’t prove it,” she said tonelessly.

“Why didn’t you say anything to me?” Andersson asked in astonishment.

She gave him a weary, crooked smile. “And what would you have done?”

“Well, I. .”

He fell silent, confused. What would he have done? Irritation rose again inside him. There were always problems when women were involved! It was better at the beginning of his career-in the days when female officers only did paperwork and office jobs, and there hadn’t been very many of them. Back then there were only guys out in the field, which was practical. You didn’t have to take into account female over-sensitivity when it came to dirty jokes and taunts. No, having women on the force was hard. The worst thing was that there were more and more of them. If they chose a male profession, then they had to accept the conditions and the lingo! Although clippings from porno magazines was probably an extreme case. .

She was still standing with a lifeless expression on her face, waiting for his answer. Andersson had an unpleasant feeling of complicity, but in what? Birgitta gave him the answer.

“Sexual harassment. That’s what it is. Finally you just get fed up with it. It’s a given that you have to take it from your colleagues. But I’ll be damned if I’m going to take it from trash like Torsson!”

Suddenly the superintendent felt old and tired. This was beyond his capacity to handle. Jonny was on his feet over by the door, and the look he gave Birgitta blazed with fury.

With a pounding headache Andersson got up and put out another chair by the desk. For safety’s sake he set the two visitors’ chairs at either end of his desk. With a weary gesture he signaled for the two combatants to sit down. Reluctantly they sat down across from each other. Neither looked at the other.

Andersson said severely, “We can’t have stuff like this going on in the department. Okay?”

Neither of them replied. He continued resolutely, “Jonny, you have to stop at once with all the stupid jokes and clippings. And you, Birgitta, have to be careful about attacking people. Even if it’s only men. Imagine if Bobo Torsson reports you for police brutality! One more incident like this and I’ll see to it that you’re transferred to the stockroom. And that goes for you too, Jonny!”

It wasn’t good, but it was the best he could come up with. He needed more coffee. And a headache tablet. There was a roll of antacids in the desk drawer. But he had to clear this up first. Wearily he turned to Jonny.

“What was it you wanted when you came in here?”

First Jonny looked as if he didn’t intend to answer, and sat sulking. But discipline prevailed, and he said with restrained rage, “I’ve been in contact with Sylvia von Knecht’s mother and sister. They corroborate Sylvia’s alibi. They went to the theater, and afterward they had a late supper. So she wasn’t the one that Viktors spent his Sunday evening with. And now I think I’ll drive over to the parking garage on Kapellgatan. And I never sent any porno clippings in an interdepartmental envelope to Birgitta!”

With great effort he gathered up his remaining dignity and tried not to limp as he went out the door.

The air went out of Birgitta again, and she rested her head heavily in her hands. Andersson worried that she was going to start crying again; he had always found it unpleasant when women cried. A bit too quickly he said, “I’m going to get us a couple of coffees from the vending machine. Then you can report on what happened with that scumbag Torsson. After we drink our coffee.”

He added the last remark hastily when he thought her shoulders were beginning to shake again.

“HE ARRIVED at three o’clock. Tall, thin, and tan from a tanning salon. Bleached blond streaks in his hair. Armani sport coat and worn blue jeans. According to his Social Security record he’s thirty-seven years old, but he works hard at looking ten years younger. When he was shown into my office he sailed in with the words, ‘I’ll admit everything if you not only interrogate me but seduce me too!’ And then he started laughing like a madman. He stank of stale booze but he’s on something else. A tentative guess is amphetamines. Maybe cocaine. He rubbed his index finger under his nose several times as he sat and babbled. He could have snorted some snow before he came to see me. He was exhilarated and restless at the same time. Couldn’t sit still on his chair, kept jumping up and down. Toward the end of the conversation, after about half an hour, he started to sweat profusely. Then I asked him if he was feeling bad. That’s when. . he jumped on me. ‘I’ll show you how bad I feel!’ he yelled, and when I got up he pulled me close and lifted me up against the wall. And grabbed me between my legs and. . bit me on my right breast.”

Birgitta broke off and was fighting hard not to start crying again. Andersson looked very worried when he leaned over the desk. In a sympathetic voice he asked, “Was it a hard bite? Did it leave marks?”

She gave a sob and nodded.

“Good! I mean, it wasn’t good that he bit you. But if there are marks we’ll have to see about getting them photographed. And a doctor will have to examine you and sign a statement. Go on.”

“At first he didn’t seem to notice the pain when I kneed him in the groin. I had to press my fingers into his eyes to get him to let go. He started to laugh like a crazy person again. Then he collapsed with his hand in his crotch. For a long time he didn’t make a sound. I was ready for another attack, but the air had gone out of him. Finally he got up and whispered, ‘I’m going to mark you. I know your name. Even your own mother won’t recognize you!’ And then he disappeared out the door. Good Lord! I sat there shaking like an aspen leaf in my chair. Then I got mad. Maybe I was mostly afraid, but it turned to rage. That’s when I knew that I had to talk to somebody. Well, I found you in the lunchroom and you know the rest.”

Andersson nodded and thought for a moment. He called the secretary and asked her to make an emergency appointment with the doctor for Birgitta. He emphasized in particular the importance of photo documentation.

When that was taken care of, he turned again to his inspector. She seemed to have recovered her spirits. She even gave him a wan smile.

To encourage her he said, “I’m sure we have time to go over what Torsson told you. First of all, where does he live?”

“You won’t believe it. He told me he was living with his cousin. Right across from the building that burned down on Berzeliigatan. His cousin is the owner of a small tobacco shop.”

“Lasse ‘Shorty’ Johannesson! Is this a joke or what?”

“No. Bobo Torsson and Shorty are actually cousins. Their mothers are sisters. Unfortunately it wasn’t until the end that this came up. I didn’t have time to dig any go deeper, because that was just before he … flipped out.”