Frozen Tracks by Åke Edwardson Read Free Book Online Page B

speak?'
    The cap, round and round.
    OK, thought Alinder. Let's try this. He slid a glass
of water across, but the man didn't touch it.
    His briefcase was standing by his chair, the kind all
the tram drivers had. Alinder had always wondered what
was inside them whenever he saw a tram driver walking
towards his tram, like a pilot on his way to his aircraft.
Alternative routes? A bit more difficult in a tram than
up in the air. Harder to drive round and round
Brunnsparken while waiting to approach your stop than
to circle over the airport at Landvetter.
    He knew one thing that was in the briefcase, but that
had nothing to do with the accident.
    'Was there something wrong with the lights?' he
asked.
    The driver didn't reply.
    'But you drove through a red light,' said Alinder.
    The driver nodded.
    'It's a very busy crossroads,' said Alinder.
    The driver nodded again, somewhat hesitantly.
    'Things could have turned out a lot worse than they
did,' said Alinder.
    The driver was looking elsewhere now. Ex-driver,
Alinder thought. He's not going to be driving any trams
until this incident has been thoroughly investigated by
the tramway people as well.
    'We can help you,' said Alinder.
    'H-h-h-h-h-h,' said the man.
    'I beg your pardon?'
    'H-h-h-h-how?'
    So you're a stutterer, poor sod, thought Alinder. Or
is it the shock after the crash?
    'We can help you by going through exactly what
happened,' he said.
    'Th-th-th-th . . .'
    'Yes?'
    'Th-th-th-the o-o-o-oth-oth-other,' said the driver.
    'The other? You mean the other man?'
    The driver nodded.
    'The other man. Which other man?'
    The driver moved his head as if he were looking
down at something on the floor.
    'The man lying on the floor? Is that who you mean?'
    The driver nodded. Alinder looked at the tape
recorder, and the tape spinning round and round. All
the nods and head-shakes are duly recorded, he thought.
All the st-st-st-st-stutters.
    'Am I to interpret that as meaning that the man
distracted you while you were driving?'
    They were preparing for a party. They had invited mainly
recent parents from the pre-natal group they used to
attend, looking trim and fit after all those relaxation
exercises. Angela had kept in touch with several of the
girls, and he was surprised to discover he got on well
with some of the men. Despite a considerable age difference.
    'That's because you are still so immature,' Angela
said.
    'And I'm so used to always being the youngest,' he
retorted, opening another bottle of wine.
    'Is that something worth striving for?'
    'No, but that's the way it's always been.'
    'Not any more,' she said.
    'Even so.'
    'Phone your mum,' she said. 'You're still the youngest
in her family.'
    'The youngest detective chief inspector in Sweden.'
    'Is that still true?'
    'Ask my mum!' he said, and the phone had rung and
they both guessed it was his mother calling direct from
Nueva Andalucía: it was typical of her timing. He picked
up the receiver, but it wasn't her.
    He recognised the voice, though.
    'Long time no see, Erik.'
    'Likewise, Steve.'
    DCI Steve Macdonald had been his partner in a
difficult case some years previously. Winter had been
over in London, in the suburbs around Croydon
where Macdonald's murder squad operated, and the
pair had become friends. Long-distance friends, but
still.
    Macdonald had been in Gothenburg for the dramatic
climax of the case.
    They were the same age, and Steve had a set of teenage
twins.
    'We're coming over,' Steve Macdonald announced.
'The kids want to see the land of the midnight sun.'
    'More likely the midday moon at this time of year,'
Winter replied.
    'Anyway.'
    'When are you coming?'
    'Let's see, where are we now? Er, late November.
They have a long holiday starting early in December,
and so we thought: why not? Otherwise it'll never
happen.'
    'Good thinking. But that's very soon.'
    'Gothenburg's almost commuting distance from
London.'
    'Mmm.'
    'Do you think you could arrange a good hotel in the
centre of town? By "good", I mean one