The Man from Beijing by Henning Mankell Read Free Book Online Page A

extent this was due to Anker, the old district judge, who made an indelible impression on her. He displayed exactly the same patience as he listened to young men who told obvious lie after lie in an attempt to avoid responsibility in paternity cases as he did when faced with hard-boiled men of violence who showed no remorse for their brutal misdeeds. It was as if the old judge had instilled in her a new degree of respect for the judicial system she had previously taken for granted. Now she actually experienced it, not just in word, but in deed. Justice meant action. By the time she left Värnamo, she had made up her mind to become a judge.
    She stood up and walked over to the window. Down below in the street a man was peeing against the wall. It had been snowing in Helsingborg during the day, and a thin layer of powdery snow was now whirling along the street. As she watched the man nonchalantly, her mind was working overtime on the judgment she was busy preparing. She had allowed herself until the following day, but it had to be ready by then.
    The man down below moved on. Roslin returned to her desk and picked up her pencil. She always worked with pencil until she’d finalized her work.
    She leaned over the messy pages with all their alterations and additions. It was a simple case and the evidence against the accused was overwhelming; nevertheless, she was having problems making her judgment.
    She wanted to impose sanctions, but was unable to.
    A man and a woman had met in one of Helsingborg’s dance restaurants. The woman was young, barely twenty, and had drunk too much. The man was in his forties and had volunteered to see her home, then was invited into the apartment for a glass of water. The woman had fallen asleep on the sofa. The man had raped her, without waking her up, then left. The next morning the woman had only a vague memory of what had happened on the sofa. She contacted the hospital, where she was examined and it was established that she had had intercourse. The man was charged. The case came to court a full year after the incident had taken place. Birgitta Roslin had presided over the trial and observed the young woman. She had read in the preliminary case notes that the woman earned her living by working as a temporary cashier in various food stores. It was clear from a personal statement that the woman was in the habit of drinking too much. She had also been found guilty of petty theft and was once fired for neglecting her duties.
    In many respects the accused was her opposite. He worked as a real estate agent, specializing in commercial properties. Everyone gave him good references. He was unmarried and earned a high salary. He did not appear in police records, but Birgitta Roslin felt that she could see through him, as he sat before her in his expensive and well-pressed suit. She had no doubt that he had raped the woman as she lay asleep on the sofa. DNA tests had established beyond doubt that intercourse had taken place, but he denied rape. She had been a willing partner, he maintained, as did his counsel, a lawyer from Malmö whom Roslin had come across before. It was one person’s word against another’s, an irreproachable property broker versus a drunken checkout girl who had invited him into her apartment in the middle of the night.
    Roslin was upset about not being able to convict him. She couldn’t shake the feeling that on this occasion a guilty man would go free. There was nothing to be done.
    What would that wise old bird Anker have done? What advice would he have given her? He would certainly have shared my concern, Roslin thought. A guilty man is going to be set free. Old Anker would have been just as upset as I am. And he would have had as little to say as I do. There’s the rub as far as judges are concerned: we have to obey the law in the knowledge that we are releasing a criminal without punishment. The woman may not have been an angel, but she would have to live with that outrageous