Part 14 (1/2)

'Yes, I was just looking at them.'

'As you see, there's going to be a bit of a shortage of regular police in the rest of the country on those two days.' 'I can see that.'

'I just wanted you to be aware of it'

'That's not my business. Ask the National Commissioner if he realizes it'

'Okay, I'll call Malm.'

Ronn came in with his reading gla.s.ses on the red tip of his nose and a paper in his hand.

'This CS list that I found on my desk 'That should be in my ”in” tray,' said Gunvald Larsson. 'Put it there. Who the h.e.l.l moved it, anyhow?'

'Not me,' said Ronn.

'What list is that?' asked Martin Beck.

'People who should be on station duty,' said Gunvald Larsson. 'The ones who are best at sitting in the duty room playing noughts and crosses, if you know what I mean.'

Martin Beck took the list from Ronn and looked at it It was headed by a number of not unexpected names: Bo Zachrisson, Kenneth Kvastmo, Karl Kristiansson, Victor Paulsson, Aldor Gustafsson, Richard Ullholm and so on. 'I understand perfectly,' said Martin Beck. 'Station duty seems like a sound idea for them. But what does CS stand for?'

'Clod Squad,' said Gunvald Larsson. 'I didn't want to express myself too directly.'

They went into the larger room, where Ronn and Melander had their desks and where they had tacked up a large copy of the city plan and drawn in the motorcade's preliminary route. Like most command offices this one was fairly messy. The telephone rang incessantly and now and again people came in and left internal messages in brown perforated envelopes.

Melander was in the process of talking into the telephone without taking his pipe out of his mouth. When he saw them he said, 'Yes, he's just come in,' and silently handed the receiver to Martin Beck.

'Yes. Beck.'

'Glad I got hold of you,' said Stig Malm. 'Uh-huh.'

'Congratulations on the fantastically elegant solution of the Petrus murder, by the way.'

A bit late in the day, and rather overstated.

'Thanks,' said Martin Beck. 'Was that what you called for?'

'No,' said Malm. 'Unfortunately not.'

'What's it about then?'

'The chief of the air force has just called the National Commissioner.'

Swift action, thought Martin Beck. Aloud, he said, 'Yes?'

'The general seems to have been...'

'Annoyed?'

'Well, let's say that he seemed disappointed in the police's will to cooperate in this affair.' 'I see.'

Malm cleared his throat in embarra.s.sment. 'Have you got a cold?'

What a d.a.m.ned lousy superior, thought Martin Beck. Then it struck him that at present it was in fact the other way around; he could regard himself as Malm's superior. So he said, 'I've got quite a lot to do. What was it you wanted?'

'Well, we consider that our relations with the defence forces are both sensitive and important So it would be desirable if conversations with the defence forces could be carried out in a spirit of cooperation. Of course, as you know, it's not me talking.'

Martin Beck laughed. 'Who the h.e.l.l is it then? Some kind of answering device?'

'Martin,' said Malm pleadingly, 'you know the position I find myself in. It's not easy -'

'Okay,' said Martin Beck. 'Anything else?'

'Not for the moment'

'So long, then.'

'So long.'

The telephone rang again. Melander answered it This time it was Moller, who wished to speak about his struggle against what he called subversive forces'. In simpler language: communists. They let Melander handle the conversation. He was superb at that kind of job, replying briefly and patiently to everything, never swerving from the point and never raising his voice. When the conversation was over, the person who had called had had no hearing at all, and yet he had been received kindly and had nothing to complain about.

The others were studying the motorcade route.

The schedule for the Senator's visit was very simple. His special plane, presumably checked ten times daily by selected mechanics, was to land at Stockholm Arlanda at 1 p.m. A representative of the government was to meet him at the plane and they were to walk to the VIP room. The government had gracefully declined the offer of a military honour guard; instead, the government representative and the guest were to step into the bulletproof car for transport to the Parliament Building in Sergei Square. Later that same day the Senator, or rather four naval officers from an American wars.h.i.+p which just happened to be in Oslo harbour, would be laying a wreath in memory of the former King.

There had been a good deal of fuss about this mark of respect to the dead monarch. It had all begun when the Senator was asked whether he had any special requests. He had replied that he would like to pay homage to the recently deceased King, as the latter had been regarded as the greatest Swede of his day, not only by the Senator personally but also by a large number of people in the United States.

No one had been especially pleased with this request. Several ministers had been slightly shocked by the outburst of uninhibited royalism that had occurred at the death of the old King and the proclamation of the new one. They considered that this was already more than enough, and through diplomatic channels the Senator had been asked just what was meant by 'recently' (more than a year had pa.s.sed since the death of King Gustaf VI Adolf) and it was strongly hinted that the government was not interested in contributing to the veneration of dead kings. But the Senator had remained inflexible. He was h.e.l.l-bent on laying a wreath and that was what he was going to do.

The United States Emba.s.sy ordered a wreath so large that two florist firms had to be brought in to do the job. The Senator had himself decided on the size of the wreath and the kinds of flowers to be used. The four naval officers arrived in Stockholm on the twelfth of November and were fortunately of athletic build, not one of them less than six foot in his stocking feet. This showed some foresight, because it was possible that men of smaller size would not have been able even to s.h.i.+ft the mountain of flowers.

Following the ceremony, at which the Prime Minister, after a great many ifs and buts, had promised to be present, the motorcade was to go to the Parliament Building. During the afternoon the guest was to meet a number of ministers for informal political discussions.

In the evening the government was to host a banquet at Stallmastaregrden, where the leaders of the opposition party and their wives would also have the opportunity to speak to the man who had once almost become President of the United States. The Senator's political calibre was such that the leader of the Swedish Left - that is, the chairman of the Communist party - had in fact declined the invitation to dine in such company.

After the banquet the Senator was to spend the night in the guest apartment at the emba.s.sy.

Friday's agenda was brief. The King was to be host at a luncheon at the palace. The royal secretary had not yet announced exactly how this was to be organized, but the preliminary arrangements called for the King to go out and meet his guest at Logrden, after which they would enter the palace buildings.

After lunch the Senator, together with one or two members of the government, was to proceed directly to Arlanda Airport, say goodbye and fly back home. End of schedule.

There was nothing especially complicated or remarkable about any of this. The whole thing was to be published in the newspapers, including the actual route. Radio and television were to broadcast live the eminent guest's arrival, as well as the motorcade into the city, the wreath-laying and the meeting with the King. In fact, it was ridiculous that so many policemen of all ranks should have to be involved in protecting one single person.

Melander ended his telephone call and got up and joined the others in front of the map.

'Mmm,' he said. 'Now, like the rest of you, I've read all the material available on this sabotage group.'

'And where would you place an explosive charge?' asked Martin Beck.

Melander lit his pipe and said with stoic countenance, 'Where would the rest of you put this hypothetical bomb?'