Read Online The Laughing Policeman by Maj Sjöwall, Per Wahlöö - Free Book Online
Authors: Maj Sjöwall, Per Wahlöö
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second, both doors are opened'
'Sum up,' said Hammar.
'To sum up,' Ek said, 'the person in question must have moved from his presumed position by the exit door straight forward along the aisle to the driver's seat. He has leaned over the driver, who lay slumped over the wheel, and turned the lever to position two, thereby opening the rear entrance door. That is to say, the one that was still open when the first police car got there.'
Martin Beck picked up the thread at once.
'Actually there are signs showing that the last shots of all were fired while the gunman was moving forward along the aisle. To the left. One of them seems to have hit Stenström.'
'Pure trench warfare tactics,' said Gunvald Larsson.
'Gunvald made a very pertinent comment just now,' Hammar said drily. 'That he didn't understand a thing. All this shows that the murderer was quite at home in the bus and knew how to work the instrument panel'
'At least how to work the doors,' Ek said pedantically.
There was silence in the room. Hammar frowned. At last he said, 'Do you mean to say that someone suddenly went and stood in the middle of the bus, shot everyone there and then simply went on his way? Without anyone having time to react? Without the driver seeing anything in his mirror?'
'No,' Kollberg said. 'Not exactly.'
'What do you mean then?'
"That someone came down the rear stairs from the top deck with the submachine gun at the ready’ Martin Beck said.
'Someone who had been sitting up there alone for a while,' Kollberg said. 'Someone who had taken his time to wait for the most suitable moment'
'How does the bus driver know if there's anyone on the top deck?' Hammar asked.
They all looked expectantly at Ek, who again cleared his throat and said, 'There are photoelectric cells on the stairs. These in their turn send impulses to a counter on the instrument panel. For each passenger who goes up the front stairs the counter adds a one. The driver can therefore keep a check the whole time on how many are up there.'
'And when the bus was found the counter showed zero?'
'Yes.'
Hammar stood in silence for a few seconds. Then he said, 'No. It doesn't hold water.'
'What doesn't?' Martin Beck asked. 'The reconstruction.' 'Why not?' said Kollberg.
'It seems far too well thought out A mentally deranged mass murderer doesn't act with such careful planning.'
'Oh, I dunno,' said Gunvald Larsson. 'That madman in America who shot over thirty people from a tower last summer, he had planned as carefully as hell. He even had food with him.'
'Yes,' Hammar said. 'But there was one thing he hadn't figured out.'
‘What?'
It was Martin Beck who answered: 'How he was to get away.'
12
Seven hours later the time was ten o'clock in the evening and Martin Beck and Kollberg were still at police headquarters on Kungsholmsgatan.
Outside it was dark and the rain had stopped.
Nothing special had occurred. The official word was that the state of the investigation was unchanged.
The dying man at Karolinska Hospital was still dying.
In the course of the afternoon, twenty helpful witnesses had come forward. Nineteen of them turned out to have ridden on other buses.
The only remaining witness was a girl of eighteen who had got on at Nybroplan and gone three stops to Sergels torg, where she had changed to the underground. She said that several passengers had got off at the same time as her, which seemed likely. She managed to recognize the driver, but that was all.
Kollberg paced restlessly up and down, eyeing the door repeatedly as if expecting someone to throw it open and rush into the room.
Martin Beck stood in front of the sketches on the wall. He had clasped his hands behind him and rocked slowly to and fro from sole to heel and back, an irritating habit he had acquired during his years as a constable on the beat long ago and which he had never been able to get rid of since.
They had hung their jackets over the chairbacks and rolled up their shirtsleeves.
'Sum up,' said Hammar.
'To sum up,' Ek said, 'the person in question must have moved from his presumed position by the exit door straight forward along the aisle to the driver's seat. He has leaned over the driver, who lay slumped over the wheel, and turned the lever to position two, thereby opening the rear entrance door. That is to say, the one that was still open when the first police car got there.'
Martin Beck picked up the thread at once.
'Actually there are signs showing that the last shots of all were fired while the gunman was moving forward along the aisle. To the left. One of them seems to have hit Stenström.'
'Pure trench warfare tactics,' said Gunvald Larsson.
'Gunvald made a very pertinent comment just now,' Hammar said drily. 'That he didn't understand a thing. All this shows that the murderer was quite at home in the bus and knew how to work the instrument panel'
'At least how to work the doors,' Ek said pedantically.
There was silence in the room. Hammar frowned. At last he said, 'Do you mean to say that someone suddenly went and stood in the middle of the bus, shot everyone there and then simply went on his way? Without anyone having time to react? Without the driver seeing anything in his mirror?'
'No,' Kollberg said. 'Not exactly.'
'What do you mean then?'
"That someone came down the rear stairs from the top deck with the submachine gun at the ready’ Martin Beck said.
'Someone who had been sitting up there alone for a while,' Kollberg said. 'Someone who had taken his time to wait for the most suitable moment'
'How does the bus driver know if there's anyone on the top deck?' Hammar asked.
They all looked expectantly at Ek, who again cleared his throat and said, 'There are photoelectric cells on the stairs. These in their turn send impulses to a counter on the instrument panel. For each passenger who goes up the front stairs the counter adds a one. The driver can therefore keep a check the whole time on how many are up there.'
'And when the bus was found the counter showed zero?'
'Yes.'
Hammar stood in silence for a few seconds. Then he said, 'No. It doesn't hold water.'
'What doesn't?' Martin Beck asked. 'The reconstruction.' 'Why not?' said Kollberg.
'It seems far too well thought out A mentally deranged mass murderer doesn't act with such careful planning.'
'Oh, I dunno,' said Gunvald Larsson. 'That madman in America who shot over thirty people from a tower last summer, he had planned as carefully as hell. He even had food with him.'
'Yes,' Hammar said. 'But there was one thing he hadn't figured out.'
‘What?'
It was Martin Beck who answered: 'How he was to get away.'
12
Seven hours later the time was ten o'clock in the evening and Martin Beck and Kollberg were still at police headquarters on Kungsholmsgatan.
Outside it was dark and the rain had stopped.
Nothing special had occurred. The official word was that the state of the investigation was unchanged.
The dying man at Karolinska Hospital was still dying.
In the course of the afternoon, twenty helpful witnesses had come forward. Nineteen of them turned out to have ridden on other buses.
The only remaining witness was a girl of eighteen who had got on at Nybroplan and gone three stops to Sergels torg, where she had changed to the underground. She said that several passengers had got off at the same time as her, which seemed likely. She managed to recognize the driver, but that was all.
Kollberg paced restlessly up and down, eyeing the door repeatedly as if expecting someone to throw it open and rush into the room.
Martin Beck stood in front of the sketches on the wall. He had clasped his hands behind him and rocked slowly to and fro from sole to heel and back, an irritating habit he had acquired during his years as a constable on the beat long ago and which he had never been able to get rid of since.
They had hung their jackets over the chairbacks and rolled up their shirtsleeves.
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