Helene Tursten - Detective Inspector Huss

Krister looked even more quizzical. “What are the others going to take over?”

“The bad guys and the bandits! God, I’m so tired of all this shit!”

He gave her an astonished look and said, “That’s probably the first time I’ve ever heard you say anything like that.”

She gave him a long look. To his consternation there were tears shining in her eyes when she finally replied. “This is the first time that my own family has been directly threatened because of my job!”

Like the wings of a brooding hen she spread her arms around the girls and admonished, “Stay here with Pappa. Don’t go before I come back!”

She gave them each a hasty kiss on the forehead and crept out the back door. The owner came into the kitchen from the other direction. He caught sight of Krister and gave him a questioning look. The head chef threw up his hands in a very French and telling gesture: Women! What can you expect?

THE PATROL car was about to park when Irene arrived at the rendezvous. After a few minutes the van arrived. To her relief Håkan Lund was in charge of the van squad. It didn’t do him much good that the new uniform jackets had full-length, slimming white stripes. It’s not easy to wish away a hundred kilos.

He greeted her cheerfully, “Hello! I heard you’ve got a bead on Paul Svensson! We’re going to suck that scumbag right in. Here’s the plan. Take this radio. Walk past McDonald’s and locate Svensson. Make sure he doesn’t see you. We’ll move in as soon as you give us his position.”

He pressed a little walkie-talkie into Irene’s hand and waved her off. She walked along the outer edge of the sidewalk. Right outside the burger joint she stepped out into the street to gain some cover from the parked cars and motorcycles.

Irene saw him. He was still sitting, talking to his buddies. She raised the radio to her mouth and pressed the button. Exactly at that instant Paul Svensson got up. His lanky body began staggering around, until it suddenly seemed to remember its intention. He headed for the door marked with the international symbol for “Men.”

She whispered in the radio, “Irene here. He went into the men’s room.”

“Excellent! We’re going in.”

Twenty seconds later the police went in the back way with their weapons drawn. They surrounded Paul Svensson’s pals. Four officers went in the front and two of them took up positions on either side of the bathroom door. When the Thin Man came out he got two gun barrels stuck in his back. Even though he was as high as Kebnekaise Peak, he realized how lousy the odds were. Obediently he put his hands in the air. He was searched quickly and thoroughly. Irene saw Håkan Lund take a heavy pistol from a holster that Paul Svensson had under his jacket. A SIG Sauer. Hers or Jimmy’s? She just didn’t care. She wanted to go home.

SAMMIE WAS overjoyed when they arrived. He hadn’t peed on the floor, even though he’d been alone for more than seven hours. Once outside the door he couldn’t hold it any farther than to the rose bed under the kitchen window. He sighed with relief.

Irene tried to explain to her daughters what had actually happened inside McDonald’s and why it was so important for them to get out of there. They were sitting around the kitchen table drinking a cup of hot O’Boy.

Katarina said excitedly, “Wicked exciting! Why couldn’t we have stayed there and watched them nab him?”

“Because it’s not TV or a movie! That guy is a murderer. He was armed with a pistol and maybe a number of other weapons. He wouldn’t have hesitated to take the two of you hostage if he found that out you were a police officer’s daughters. Mine.”

Jenny was tracing her fingernail along the edge of the table again. “I thought they looked nice. The little I talked to them, I mean,” she said sullenly.

“Nice! Sure, because he’s tanked up on amphetamines and maybe some other shit!”

“You mean he could have killed us? I don’t think so! They didn’t seem dangerous at all, or like dope addicts,” Jenny insisted.

Obstinately she tossed her head, where an extremely short stubble could be seen in the backlight from the kitchen lamp. Irene forced herself to speak calmly and tried to select her words with care.

“Jenny, do you remember when you and Katarina visited me at the hospital on Monday? Do you remember how I looked? Do you remember that a young colleague I had with me was beaten up so badly that he’s still in the hospital?”

Jenny nodded glumly. Irene continued, imperturbable. “Do you remember that I told you about the grenade that was thrown into the house where my colleague and I were locked inside? Do you remember?”

“Yeah, yeah, you don’t have to keep talking about it! Of course I remember!”

“If you remember that, what makes you think for an instant that this guy wouldn’t kill you or Katarina? If the circumstances were right-or from your point of view, unlucky-nothing would stop him. He was there when they tried to murder me and Jimmy!”

Finally she couldn’t stop herself. Her final words turned into a shriek. But she got them out. Jenny’s eyes grew big and shiny. She got up and went over to her mamma and threw her arms around her. They didn’t say a word, but they both felt that something was changing between them. It would take time, but it would heal.

They jumped when the telephone rang. Katarina got to it first and picked it up.

“Just a moment. Mamma, it’s for you.”

“Irene Huss.”

“Hi, Irene. It’s Mona Söder. Is this a bad time? No? I just wanted to tell you that Jonas. . Jonas died early this morning. . at two o’clock.”

Her voice had been steady, but now it broke. Around two in the morning. That was when Irene thought she had heard somebody crying in the house.

SUNDAY MORNING WAS ROUGH. Irene woke up with an unpleasant feeling of being hung over. Unjustly, since she hadn’t even had a light beer the night before. Krister was snoring loudly next to her in bed. He had come home around two in the morning. He had worked the extra shift he had traded with Sverker so he could take care of her after the beating out in Billdal. A wave of tenderness rose up inside her and she tiptoed out as quietly as she could so she wouldn’t wake him. It was just after eight o’clock. The twins would sleep at least two more hours. And no doubt their father would too. The important thing was to make the best of these few hours to herself.

She put on her long underwear and jogging suit. Sammie lay playing possum. He was the biggest sleepyhead of the whole family in the morning. He didn’t mind a brief walk to pee, but no running or jumping in the morning, please. She rattled his leash a little. Nature’s call made itself felt, and he meandered out into the hallway. He gave a big yawn and stretched out his body, heavy with sleep.

It was a short walk. Sammie was eager to get home. He was thinking about an empty bed that was still warm.

It was dark and cold, but the air felt clear and crisp. She ran down toward Fiskebäck marina without meeting a soul. The salt-saturated wind blew the scent of seaweed into her wide-open nostrils and swept away the heavy feeling in her head. The flint-gray sea slammed its swells against jetties and wharves. The mooring ropes slapped and the shrouds fluttered on the big sailboats still in the water. The creak of some wooden fenders made her instinctively slow her pace. It was clear that they were protesting being squashed between a huge boat hull and the wharf. Although she had already run almost two kilometers she wasn’t even short of breath. She turned around out by the rocks and ran back a bit, then turned off toward Flundregatorna and jogged the back streets up toward Skärvallsberget. She made it all the way out to the very edge of Hinsholmskilen before she turned back.