Murder on the Thirty-First Floor by Per Wahlöö Read Free Book Online
Authors: Per Wahlöö
Tags: Suspense
missed the metal bin and fell at Inspector Jensen’s feet.
The head of publishing got up and went over to one of the picture windows; he opened it and stood there with his back to his visitor.
Inspector Jensen looked quickly at the crumpled draft, retrieved it and put it in his pocket.
The head of publishing closed the window and came back across the room, smiling. He buttoned up his shirt, adjusted his silk tie and dispatched the typewriter with another press of the button. He put his finger on the intercom and said:
‘Write out a temporary employee pass for Mr Jensen, allowing him free movement within the building. He’s from the Buildings Inspection Service. Make it valid until the end of Sunday. And bring him a master key to go with it.’
His voice was hard, cold and overbearing, but his smile stayed the same.
Exactly ninety seconds later, the woman in green came in with the document and the key. The head of publishing scrutinised the pass critically and said with a slight shrug:
‘All right, that’ll have to do.’
The secretary’s eyes wandered.
‘I said that’ll do,’ the head of publishing said sharply. ‘So you can go now.’
He scrawled a signature, handed the pass and key to his visitor and said:
‘The key will admit you to all areas of potential interest. Well, not to the management’s private offices, of course, nor to this one.’
‘Thank you.’
‘Have you any other questions? If not, then …’
He glanced apologetically at his watch.
‘Just one detail,’ said Inspector Jensen. ‘What’s the Special Department?’
‘A project group that works on the planning of new magazines.’
Inspector Jensen nodded, put the key and the blue pass in his breast pocket and left the room.
Before starting his car, he took out the crumpled sheet of paper, smoothed it out and tried the feel of it between his fingers. It seemed to be of very good quality and the size looked rather unusual.
The head of publishing’s handwriting was as spiky and uneven as a child’s, but not particularly hard to decipher. Jensen read:
Biulding officer hereby
Mr N. Jensen is from the inspection team within and can enter all departments exept
N. Jensen is a member of the Biulding Inspection Service and has the right to departments
Mr Jensen, bearer of this pass, is hereby entiteld to enter the company’s
N. Jensen is from the inspection team and special authourity
Inspecter Inspector
Mr Jesen DAM HELL BUG
He folded up the sheet of paper and put it in the glove compartment on top of his service pistol. Then he leaned his head against the side window and looked at the Skyscraper; his gaze was unperturbed and gave nothing away.
He had a hollow feeling in his stomach. He was hungry, but knew the pain would start as soon as he ate anything.
Inspector Jensen turned the ignition key and looked at his watch.
It was half past twelve, and already Wednesday.
CHAPTER 9
‘No,’ said the lab technician, ‘it’s not the same paper. Nor the same size. But …’
‘But?’
‘There’s very little difference in the quality. The structure’s similar. It’s rather unique, in fact.’
‘Meaning?’
‘Meaning it could well be that both papers were made at the same factory.’
‘I see.’
‘We’re just following that up. It’s a distinct possibility, at any rate.’
The man seemed to be hesitating. After a moment he said:
‘Is whoever wrote the sentences on this piece of paper linked to the case in any way?’
‘Why do you ask?’
‘A man who was here from the Institute for Forensic Psychiatry took a look at them. He concluded that the person who wrote these sentences suffers from dyslexia. He was pretty certain about it.’
‘Who allowed this psychiatrist to see case material?’
‘I did. He’s an acquaintance of mine. He happened to be here for something else.’
‘I shall be reporting you for professional misconduct.’
Inspector Jensen hung up.
‘Pretty certain,’ he said to
The head of publishing got up and went over to one of the picture windows; he opened it and stood there with his back to his visitor.
Inspector Jensen looked quickly at the crumpled draft, retrieved it and put it in his pocket.
The head of publishing closed the window and came back across the room, smiling. He buttoned up his shirt, adjusted his silk tie and dispatched the typewriter with another press of the button. He put his finger on the intercom and said:
‘Write out a temporary employee pass for Mr Jensen, allowing him free movement within the building. He’s from the Buildings Inspection Service. Make it valid until the end of Sunday. And bring him a master key to go with it.’
His voice was hard, cold and overbearing, but his smile stayed the same.
Exactly ninety seconds later, the woman in green came in with the document and the key. The head of publishing scrutinised the pass critically and said with a slight shrug:
‘All right, that’ll have to do.’
The secretary’s eyes wandered.
‘I said that’ll do,’ the head of publishing said sharply. ‘So you can go now.’
He scrawled a signature, handed the pass and key to his visitor and said:
‘The key will admit you to all areas of potential interest. Well, not to the management’s private offices, of course, nor to this one.’
‘Thank you.’
‘Have you any other questions? If not, then …’
He glanced apologetically at his watch.
‘Just one detail,’ said Inspector Jensen. ‘What’s the Special Department?’
‘A project group that works on the planning of new magazines.’
Inspector Jensen nodded, put the key and the blue pass in his breast pocket and left the room.
Before starting his car, he took out the crumpled sheet of paper, smoothed it out and tried the feel of it between his fingers. It seemed to be of very good quality and the size looked rather unusual.
The head of publishing’s handwriting was as spiky and uneven as a child’s, but not particularly hard to decipher. Jensen read:
Biulding officer hereby
Mr N. Jensen is from the inspection team within and can enter all departments exept
N. Jensen is a member of the Biulding Inspection Service and has the right to departments
Mr Jensen, bearer of this pass, is hereby entiteld to enter the company’s
N. Jensen is from the inspection team and special authourity
Inspecter Inspector
Mr Jesen DAM HELL BUG
He folded up the sheet of paper and put it in the glove compartment on top of his service pistol. Then he leaned his head against the side window and looked at the Skyscraper; his gaze was unperturbed and gave nothing away.
He had a hollow feeling in his stomach. He was hungry, but knew the pain would start as soon as he ate anything.
Inspector Jensen turned the ignition key and looked at his watch.
It was half past twelve, and already Wednesday.
CHAPTER 9
‘No,’ said the lab technician, ‘it’s not the same paper. Nor the same size. But …’
‘But?’
‘There’s very little difference in the quality. The structure’s similar. It’s rather unique, in fact.’
‘Meaning?’
‘Meaning it could well be that both papers were made at the same factory.’
‘I see.’
‘We’re just following that up. It’s a distinct possibility, at any rate.’
The man seemed to be hesitating. After a moment he said:
‘Is whoever wrote the sentences on this piece of paper linked to the case in any way?’
‘Why do you ask?’
‘A man who was here from the Institute for Forensic Psychiatry took a look at them. He concluded that the person who wrote these sentences suffers from dyslexia. He was pretty certain about it.’
‘Who allowed this psychiatrist to see case material?’
‘I did. He’s an acquaintance of mine. He happened to be here for something else.’
‘I shall be reporting you for professional misconduct.’
Inspector Jensen hung up.
‘Pretty certain,’ he said to