The Terrorists by Maj Sjöwall, Per Wahlöö Read Free Book Online Page B

concerned with protecting the banks’ money visited the scene of the crime,” said Crasher and stopped short with an imperious look at the prosecutor.
    “We work day and night,” said Bulldozer, “and this was considered an insignificant case, one of many.”
    “Which means that the initial interrogations were conducted by whatever police happened to be present,” said Crasher. “Who spoke to the teller?”
    “Me,” said Kristiansson.
    “And what did she say?”
    “She said the girl came up to the counter with the kid in a harness and put her shoulder bag on the marble slab. The teller saw the knife right away, so she started stuffing notes in the bag.”
    “Did Rebecka take out the knife?”
    “No, she had it in her belt. Around in the back.”
    “Then how could the teller have seen it?”
    “I don’t know. Yes, of course, she saw it afterward when Rebecka turned around, and then she screamed, ‘A knife, a knife, she’s got a knife!’ ”
    “Was it a sheath knife or a stiletto?”
    “No, it looked like a small kitchen knife. Like the kind you have at home.”
    “What did Rebecka say to the teller?”
    “Nothing. Anyhow, not right away. Then they said she laughed and said, ‘I didn’t know it was so easy to borrow money.’ And then she said, ‘I suppose I have to leave a receipt or something.’ ”
    “The money appears to have been scattered all over the floor,” said Crasher. “How did that come about?”
    “Well, Kvastmo was standing there holding onto the girl while we waited for reinforcements. And then the teller started counting the money to see if any was missing. And then Kenneth started shouting, ‘Stop, that’s illegal.’ ”
    “And then?”
    “Then he yelled, ‘Karl, don’t let anyone touch the loot.’ I was carrying the kid so I only got hold of one of the handles and dumped it on the floor by accident. It was mostly small bills, so they flew all over the place. Well, then along came another patrol car. We gave the child to them, and then took the prisoner to the station on Kungsholm. I drove and Kenneth sat in the back seat with the girl.”
    “Was there trouble in the back seat?”
    “Yes, a little. At first she cried and wanted to know what we’d done with her kid. Then she cried even louder and then Kvastmo was trying to put handcuffs on her.”
    “Did you say anything?”
    “Yes, I said I was sure she didn’t need them. Kvastmo was twice as big as her and anyway she wasn’t offering any resistance.”
    “Did you say anything else in the car?”
    Kristiansson sat in silence for several minutes. Crasher waited silently.
    Kristiansson gazed at his uniform-clad legs, looked guiltily around and said, “I said, ‘Don’t hit her, Kenneth.’ ”
    The rest was simple. Crasher rose and went over to Kristiansson. “Does Kenneth Kvastmo usually hit the people he arrests?”
    “It has happened.”
    “Did you see Kvastmo’s shoulder flap and the almost torn-off button?”
    “Yes. He mentioned it. Said his wife didn’t keep his things in order.”
    “When did this happen?”
    “The day before.”
    “The prosecution’s witness,” said Crasher gently.
    Bulldozer caught Kristiansson’s eye and held it. How many cases had been wrecked by dumb policemen? And how many had been saved?
    “No questions,” said Bulldozer lightly. Then, as if in passing, “The prosecution withdraws the charge of assaulting a police officer.”
    What happened next was that Braxén requested a recess, during which he lit his first cigar and then made the long trek to the washroom. He came back after a while and stood talking to Rhea Nielsen.
    “What sort of women do you run around with?” Bulldozer Olsson asked Martin Beck. “First she laughs at me while the court’s in session and now she stands there chatting with Crasher. Everyone knows Crasher’s breath can knock an orangutan unconscious at fifty yards.”
    “Good women,” answered Martin Beck. “Or rather, one good