Åke Edwardson - Death Angels

COHEN:You said you rented the apartment so you could get together with friends.

VIKINGSSON:That’s right.

COHEN:Where do you see your friends?

VIKINGSSON:What kind of question is that?

COHEN:Give us an example of where you meet your friends.

VIKINGSSON:At somebody else’s place, not at mine because it’s not very big.

COHEN:Have you ever had any guests there?

VIKINGSSON:Only a woman or two who weren’t in the mood for their husbands.

COHEN:Your neighbors say that people often come to see you.

VIKINGSSON:Not when I’m there, anyway.

COHEN:Do you work out much?

VIKINGSSON:What?

COHEN:Do you spend a lot of time at the gym?

VIKINGSSON:No.

COHEN:Are you sure?

VIKINGSSON:I get all the exercise I need on the job.

COHEN:On the job?

VIKINGSSON:Yes, I spend the whole flight going up and down the aisle.

COHEN:So you don’t work out at all?

VIKINGSSON:Once or twice, but that was a long time ago. Anyone who claims that he’s seen me at a gym is lying.

COHEN:Nobody has claimed that.

VIKINGSSON:Good.

COHEN:On the other hand, you’ve been spotted with a big duffel bag more than once.

VIKINGSSON:What?

COHEN:You heard what I said.

VIKINGSSON:That’s for the stuff I carry between Gothenburg and London.

COHEN:We didn’t see it in your Gothenburg apartment.

VIKINGSSON:It’s in London.

COHEN:We couldn’t find it there either.

VIKINGSSON:Did you go into my London apartment?

COHEN:Assistant Chief Investigator Ringmar informed you that we searched it.

VIKINGSSON:Like hell he did.

COHEN:You’ve been informed of everything you need to know.

VIKINGSSON:This is nuts.

COHEN:Just tell us where your duffel bag is.

VIKINGSSON:What?

COHEN:Where is your duffel bag?

VIKINGSSON:If I had to guess, I’d say that one of your men got his grubby fingers on it.

COHEN:Do you ever keep it anywhere else?

VIKINGSSON:It’s in London, for God’s sake. The other flight attendants can verify that I had it the last time I was there. Yesterday, I mean.

COHEN:It’s not in your apartment.

VIKINGSSON:Then the cops have it.

COHEN:We talked to the other flight attendants, and none of them saw you carrying a duffel bag.

VIKINGSSON:Then they must have had more important things on their mind.

COHEN:Do you have two duffel bags?

VIKINGSSON:What?

COHEN:Just answer my question.

VIKINGSSON:Are you guys starting to see double?

COHEN:Cut it out.

VIKINGSSON:The answer is no.

COHEN:Do you own a car?

VIKINGSSON:No.

COHEN:Is there a car in Gothenburg that you drive occasionally?

VIKINGSSON:Do I ever borrow somebody else’s car? Sure, once in a while.

COHEN:Any car in particular?

VIKINGSSON:I don’t understand what you’re talking about.

You understand exactly what he’s talking about, you bastard, Winter thought. Hold on a minute and you’ll understand even better.

COHEN:Is there any particular car in Gothenburg that you borrow on a regular basis?

VIKINGSSON:No.

COHEN:You never drive a 1988 white Opel Kadett Caravan, license plate number ANG 999?

VIKINGSSON:What?

COHEN:Just answer the question.

VIKINGSSON:What was the question again?

COHEN:Do you ever drive an Opel Kadett Caravan, license plate number ANG 999, recently reregistered?

VIKINGSSON:No.

COHEN:We found it a couple of blocks from your apartment in a paid parking spot on Distansgatan Street.

VIKINGSSON:And?

COHEN:The parking spot belongs to an acquaintance of yours named Peter Möller. According to him, you sublease it from him.

VIKINGSSON:That’s a lie.

COHEN:It’s a lie that you sublease it?

VIKINGSSON:It’s a lie.

COHEN:So you’ve never seen the car?

VIKINGSSON:Nope.

COHEN:It’s registered in the name of Viking Carlsson.

VIKINGSSON:You don’t say?

COHEN:Is that a coincidence?

VIKINGSSON:Is what a coincidence?

COHEN:The name of the owner.

VIKINGSSON:What was his name again?

COHEN:Viking Carlsson.

VIKINGSSON:I don’t have a clue.

COHEN:You don’t own the car?

VIKINGSSON:For the umpteenth time, no. You just said who the owner was.

COHEN:We found fingerprints in the car that match yours.

VIKINGSSON:That’s a lie.

COHEN:We also found bloodstains in the trunk and other places in the car.

VIKINGSSON:I don’t know anything about that.

COHEN:You have no idea where the bloodstains might have come from?

VIKINGSSON:Not the slightest.

COHEN:Why are your fingerprints in the car?

VIKINGSSON:The only explanation I can think of is that I rode in it. I’ve taken a few illegal taxis in my day.

COHEN:So you’re saying you might have ridden in it?

VIKINGSSON:How else would my fingerprints have gotten there? All I can come up with is that it was an illegal taxi.

COHEN:Why is your acquaintance lying about the parking spot?

VIKINGSSON:What?

COHEN:Why do you think your acquaintance claims that you rent the parking spot from him?

VIKINGSSON:Wait. Now I remember…

COHEN:I didn’t hear what you said.

VIKINGSSON:My God, I had forgotten all about it. I rent it from him and sublet it to someone else.

COHEN:You’re sub-subletting a parking spot?

VIKINGSSON:Certainly.

COHEN:Can you give us the name of this other person?

VIKINGSSON:Sure, but the problem is I haven’t heard from him for months. He hasn’t been paying.

COHEN:But you’ve continued to pay on your sublease?

VIKINGSSON:Yes, I don’t want to lose the spot.

COHEN:And you haven’t heard from the person who rents it from you?

VIKINGSSON:Not in the last few months.

COHEN:Meanwhile, there’s a car standing in a parking spot that you don’t know anything about, a car that’s got your fingerprints on the wheel and door handles.

VIKINGSSON:Wonders never cease.