Part 19 (1/2)

'And what does she do?'

'She's studying Scandinavian languages at the university.'

Gunvald Larsson mistrusted many things in this world, and one of them was a university education. But now he was beginning to look slightly thoughtful.

'Go on,' he said.

'Today I looked into the aliens register and checked. The name isn't there either.'

'What did you say his name was?' 'Reinhard Jorgensen.'

Gunvald Larsson rose and went over to Melander's desk. 'And what did he look like?'

'Much like you, though twenty years younger. And he had sideburns.'

'Was he as tall as I am, for instance?' 'Almost But he certainly weighed less.' 'Not many people are as tall as I am.' 'He may have been a few inches shorter.' 'And he said his name was Reinhard?' 'Yes.'

'Had he any special identifying marks?'

'No. That is, he was very sunburnt, except...'

'Except?'

'Except in places where men aren't usually sunburnt'

'And he spoke Danish?'

'Yes. I thought it sounded pretty authentic Until my friend brought it up.'

Gunvald Larsson had taken a brown envelope out of one of Melander's letter trays. He weighed it in his hand for a moment and then took out a seven-by-ten photograph. He handed it to Ruth Salomonsson.

'Did he look like this?'

'Yes, that's him, but that's about two years old, I'd say. At least' She peered more closely at the photograph. 'Bad quality,' she said.

'It's an enlargement extracted from a group photograph on a small negative.'

'Anyway, that's him all right I'm certain of it. What's his real name?'

'Reinhard Heydt He seems to be South African. What did he say he was doing here?'

'Business. Buying and selling complicated machinery of some kind.'

'And you met him on the fourth in the evening?' 'Yes.'

'Was he alone?'

'Yes.'

”When did you last see him?'

'The next morning,, at about six o'clock.'

'Did he have a car?'

”Not with him, at any rate.'

'Where did he say he was staying?'

'The Grand.'

'Do you know anything else?'

'No, nothing whatsoever.'

'Okay. Thanks for coming,' said Larsson, more kindly now.

'Don't mention it'

'I said one or two ill-considered things before.' 'All that about free totty and so on?' she said, smiling. 'No,' said Gunvald Larsson. 'About policewomen. We need a lot more.'

'My coffee break is definitely over now,' she said, turning to go. 'Just a moment,' said Gunvald Larsson. He tapped the photograph with his knuckles. 'This guy's dangerous.'

'To whom?'

'Everyone. Anyone. You should let us know if you ever catch sight of him again.' 'Has he killed anyone?'

'Many people,' said Gunvald Larsson. 'Far too many.'

In the end, Martin Beck had quite a pleasant evening. There were already seven or eight people around the kitchen table when he arrived, and he had met some of them before.

Among them was a young man named Kent, who a few years ago had said that he was thinking of joining the police. Martin Beck had not seen him since and asked him how he'd made out 'At the Police College?'

'Yes.'

'I got in, but halfway through the term I had to leave. It was an absolute madhouse.' 'What are you doing now?'

'Refuse collection. A dustman. It's a h.e.l.l of an improvement' As was usual around Rhea's kitchen table, the conversation was lively and fluent, moving from one subject to another. Martin Beck sat relaxing in silence, now and again sipping at his wine. He had decided to have no more than one gla.s.s. Only once was the notorious Senator mentioned. Some were thinking of demonstrating, others satisfied with grumbling at the government Then Rhea began talking about Gascony fish soup and lobsters and Brittany, thus putting an end to political arguments.

She was to go away on Sunday, to a sister who was constantly in need of help of one kind or another.

At one o'clock she shooed out all her guests, except Martin Beck, of course, who hardly counted as a guest any longer.

”You'll be absolutely shattered tomorrow if you don't go to bed at once,' she said.

She also went to bed at once, but half an hour later she had to get up again and go out to the kitchen. Martin Beck heard her clattering about at the cooker, but was too tired to be able to think about au gratin ham sandwiches with parmesan, so he stayed where he was.