A Necessary Action by Per Wahlöö Read Free Book Online

cabo shrugged his shoulders again.
    ‘Idiotic,’ said Dan Pedersen.
    ‘Within twenty-four hours,’ said the cabo. ‘Preferably before. Otherwise I’ll have to make a case of it and put it before the courts. And I’d rather not do that, for your sake, and for my own.’
    At least he is honest, thought Dan Pedersen. Aloud he said: ‘And the German?’
    ‘He can stay.’
    ‘Where can he live then?’
    ‘That’s nothing to do with me.’
    The cabo looked indifferently at Willi Mohr. Then he turned to look at Santiago Alemany, who was leaning with his back against the wall and looking up at the ceiling.
    ‘What have you got to say, then?’ he said provocatively.
    ‘It wasn’t our fault and all I did was to try and separate them.’
    ‘You never do anything,’ said the cabo, looking bitterly at Santiago. ‘You never do anything, but you’re always there. You don’t even work properly like your father and brother. They go out with the boats nearly every night—but you’re content to sit in bars with foreigners and drive into town with the fish at the most twice a week.’
    Santiago Alemany opened his mouth and moistened his lips with his tongue.
    ‘That can be quite hard work sometimes,’ he said.
    He had meant to say something quite different.
    ‘What did you do with your brother, by the way?’
    Santiago moistened his lips again.
    ‘I took him home,’ he said. ‘He needed rest.’
    From her place in the basket chair Siglinde saw that his eyeshad turned hard and cold. Perhaps no one else had noticed it.
    ‘Your brother’ll get prison; a week, perhaps fourteen days. Well, he’ll manage.’
    ‘Sure,’ said Santiago Alemany.
    ‘And remember what I’ve said,’ said the cabo, turning to Dan Pedersen again. ‘At the latest tomorrow, preferably tonight. And now, good-bye.’
    When they went out to the truck, the cabo stayed behind the jalousies and looked at Siglinde. Her blue dress was tight across her hips and behind as she walked, and the grey dust swirled round her naked feet.
    ‘Cretins,’ said the cabo to himself and went back into the room. He took out the local telephone from under the counter and impatiently jiggled the cradle.
    This corporal had no future ahead of him in the police. He had been sent to the puerto because he was considered to be a modern type, who handled foreigners well. He suffered from an inferiority complex on behalf of his country and studied foreign methods. His superiors at regional headquarters were following his actions with rising distrust.
    Outside Dan Pedersen said to Willi Mohr: ‘We’ve got to move now. It was our fault you got involved in all this. You can come with us if you like. I know of a house up there, which we can rent cheaply. It’s at the southern end of the town and there’s no electric light, but it’ll do.’
    ‘Have you any money? I’m flat broke,’ he said to Santiago.
    Santiago took a roll of worn dirty notes out of his pocket.
    ‘How much do you need?’
    ‘Only fifty.’
    Santiago separated out a hundred-peseta note.
    Dan Pedersen smiled as he put it in his pocket.
    ‘And what do you think?’ he said to Siglinde.
    ‘You’re crazy, but it doesn’t matter. It’ll probably be all right up there.’
    ‘You’re a good kid. Do you know what I thought when I saw you in there? You’re an insulting truth in this goddam country.’
    He paused and looked her up and down. Then he said: ‘I want to sleep with you later.’
    ‘We’ll see,’ said Siglinde, and she smiled.
    She looked optimistically towards the distant spot in the mountains, expecting something of the future.
    Dan Pedersen had spoken German to Willi, Spanish to Santiago and Norwegian to his wife. He was on form, despite relative setbacks, and he thumped the others on the back. They began to climb up into the camioneta.
    For the first time for a long time, Willi Mohr felt something stir inside him. He felt a slight burrowing curiosity about what was to happen