Part 26 (1/2)

They were not exactly having an amusing time at the police station in Kungsholmsgatan, either. Fredrik Melander had gone home shortly after midnight, but he lived close-by and could easily - well, with some difficulty - be recalled.

Martin Beck and Gunvald Larsson stayed long after the dismal, dirty, grey and depressing dawn began to creep up over the roofs, leaning over photocopies, plans of buildings, drawings and maps of the Tanto district, sunk in their thoughts.

Just before Melander left, he had made a remark: 'And that's a standard apartment building is it, with emergency stairs?'

'Yes, it is,' said Gunvald Larsson. 'So what?'

'And the emergency stairs back oh to the apartment, don't they?'

Now it was Martin Beck's turn to ask, 'So what?'

'I happen to have a brother-in-law who lives in one of those buildings,' said Melander, 'and I know how they're built. When I was going to help him put up a mirror, quite a big one I must admit, half of it fell straight through the wall out into the emergency stairs, and the rest of the wall collapsed into their neighbour's living room.'

'What did the neighbour say to that?' said Gunvald Larsson. 'He was a bit surprised. He was watching TV. Soccer.' 'What's your point?'

'My point is that perhaps that's something to think about, especially if we're going to take them from three or four directions.'

Then Melander had gone home, obviously anxious about his indispensable night's sleep.

While things were comparatively calm at Kungsholmsgatan, Martin Beck and Gunvald Larsson began transforming Melander's idea into what with a certain goodwill might be called the embryo of a plan.

'Their attention will be concentrated on the door, especially as there's only one,' said Martin Beck. 'They'll be expecting someone, you for instance, to kick down the door and come hurtling in with a posse of policemen at your heels. If I've got those guys' methods right, they'll kill as many as possible. Then, when all hope is gone, they'll blow themselves to pieces, hoping to take some of us with them free of charge.'

'I still want to take them alive,' said Gunvald Larsson darkly.

'But how? Shall we starve them out?'

'Good idea,' said Gunvald Larsson. 'And then on Christmas Eve we'll send the Commissioner in dressed as Santa Claus with a big dish of rice pudding. They'll be so surprised, they'll give themselves up at once. Especially if Malm joins in with twelve helicopters and three hundred and fifty men with dogs and armour plate and bulletproof vests.'

Martin Beck was standing by the wall in his usual stance, elbow propped on the old metal filing cabinet Gunvald Larsson was sitting at his desk picking his teeth with a letter opener.

Neither of them said more than one word at the most for the next hour.

Benny Skacke was a good shot He'd had the chance to demonstrate this not only at the shooting range, but also on the job. If he had been a headhunter, his collection would have been enhanced by the somewhat ugly head of a Lebanese who had at the time been considered one of the ten most dangerous men in the world.

Skacke also had excellent night vision. Although it was black as soot outside and the j.a.panese were very economical with the light he could see they were going to have a meal. Dinner was clearly a ritual affair. They put on white clothes, rather like judo costumes, and knelt on each side of a square cloth apparently covered with plates and small bowls.

It looked peaceful and leisurely. Until he discovered that they each had a machine pistol with a spare magazine within easy reach.

His own rifle was standing out in the hall, a Browning High Power Rifle Medallion Grade 458 Magnum. Skacke was convinced he had a chance of hitting both men before they had time to take shelter or shoot back.

But what would happen then? And what about his instructions?

Skacke reluctantly gave up any sharpshooting ideas and stared gloomily out into the darkness.

Martin Beck and Gunvald Larsson had a very hard nut to crack. But first they had to get a few hours' sleep. They went and lay down in two of the empty cells, having issued orders that they were not to be disturbed by anyone except ma.s.s murderers and other perpetrators of especially serious crimes.

Shortly before six they were on their feet again. Gunvald Larsson telephoned Ronn, who had also just awakened and sounded slightly touchy.

'Einar, you needn't go to Tanto today.' 'Urn? Really? Why not?' 'We need to have a talk with you down here.' 'Who'll relieve Skacke?'

'Stromgren or Ek'll have to do that It's not exactly an overwhelmingly difficult a.s.signment'

'When do you want me to come?'

'As soon as you've read the newspaper and had your coffee, or whatever you usually do in the mornings.' 'All right Fine.'

Gunvald Larsson hung up and stared at Martin Beck. ”Three men should be enough,' he said finally. 'One from the balcony, one through the door and one from that emergency stairway.'

'Through the wall.'

'Exactly.'

'You're good at cras.h.i.+ng through locked doors,' said Martin Beck. 'But what about walls?'

'Whoever goes through the wall is going to have to have a pneumatic drill with a silencer. Artificial sound effects probably won't wholly cover the noise even then, and all the time they'll be keeping an eye on the door, too, so in my view the man coming from the balcony has the best chance. Doesn't that sound right to you?'

'Yes, but which three men do we use?'

'Two seem obvious,' said Gunvald Larsson.

'You and me.'

'It was our idea, and it's going to be difficult to carry out. Can we put that responsibility on to anyone else?' 'Hardly. But who...?'

'Skacke?' Larsson suggested with considerable hesitation.

'He's too young,' said Martin Beck, 'and he's got small children. He's learning, but he's still pretty inexperienced, especially in practical matters. I couldn't stand to see him lying dead in that apartment the way I saw Stenstrom lying dead in that bus.'

'Then who could you stand to see lying dead up there?' said Gunvald Larsson with unusual sharpness.

Martin Beck did not reply.

'Melander's too old,' said Gunvald Larsson. 'He would volunteer, of course, but he'll soon be fifty-five, and he's done more than his share of that kind of work. He's a bit slow, too. Of course, we're not so young either, for that matter, even if we aren't slow.'

'So that leaves -'

'Einar,' said Gunvald Larsson. He sighed deeply. 'I've thought about it for hours,' he said. 'Einar has certain disadvantages which we both know perfectly well, but he has one great advantage. He's worked with us for a long time and knows how we think.'

Martin Beck longed for Kollberg. It was no doubt true that Ronn knew how Gunvald Larsson thought, but it was just as certain that he didn't know how Martin Beck thought - or if he did, he never showed it 'We'll have to talk to him,' said Martin Beck. 'This isn't the sort of a.s.signment you just give to people and say, ”Now just do this and that.'”

'He'll be here soon,' said Gunvald Larsson.

While they were waiting, Stromgren was sent to the apartment in Tanto. Skacke was too tired to show any surprise. He put his fine rifle into a case that looked as if it held some kind of musical instrument. Then he left the building, got into his fairly new car and went home to bed.

Ronn's red nose did not appear in the doorway until just before nine. He had taken his time, among other things because of Gunvald Larsson's tone of voice, which had not promised any happy surprises, and also because it had been a long time since he'd had a chance to relax. Then he had taken the metro into town, since he basically disliked driving a car.