Read Online The Locked Room by Maj Sjöwall, Per Wahlöö - Free Book Online Page A

a busload of police offi¬cers equipped with automatics and bullet-proof vests.
    The long-term result, however, was something no one had quite foreseen. Violence breeds not only antipathy and hatred but also insecurity and fear.
    In the end things had come to such a pass that people were going about being scared of each other and Stockholm had become a city containing tens of thousands of terrified individuals. And frightened people are dangerous people.
    Many of the six hundred officers who suddenly no longer existed had in fact resigned because they were scared - yes, even though they were armed to the teeth and for the most part just sat locked inside their cars.
    Many, of course, had fled from Stockholm for other reasons, either because they'd come to dislike the place in general, or because they were disgusted with the treatment they were now obliged to mete out
    The regime had backfired. As for its deepest motives, they remained shrouded in darkness - a darkness, however, in which some people detected a tint of Nazi brown.
    Examples of similar manipulations abounded, and some bore witness to outright cynicism. A year ago there had been a drive against people passing bad cheques. People were overdrawing their accounts, and some money had ended up in the wrong pockets. The figures for unsolved petty fraud were regarded as discreditable, and called for radical measures. The National Police Board objected to cheques being accepted as legal tender. Everyone knew what this would mean, people would have to carry a lot of cash with them, and this would give the green light to muggers on the city's streets and squares. Which was precisely what had happened. Fraudulent cheques, of course, disappeared, and the police could boast of a questionable success. The fact that numerous citizens were daily being beaten up was of minor importance.
    It was all part and parcel of the rising tide of violence, to which the only answer was ever more numerous and still better armed police.
    But where were all these policemen to come from?
    The official crime figures for the first six months had been a great triumph. They showed a drop of two per cent, although, as everybody knew, there had really been a massive increase. The explanation was simple. Non-existent policemen cannot expose crimes. And every overdrawn bank account had been counted as a crime in itself.
    When the political police had been forbidden to bug people's telephones, the theorists of the National Police Board had hastened to their aid. Through scare propaganda and gross exaggeration Parliament had been prevailed on to pass a law permitting phones to be bugged in the struggle against drugs. Whereupon the anticommunists had calmly continued their eavesdropping, and the drugs trade had flourished as never before.
    No, it was no fun, thought Lennart Kollberg, being a policeman. What could a man do as he witnessed the gradual decay of his own organization? As he heard the rats of fascism pattering about behind the skirting boards? All his adult life he had loyally served this organization.
    What to do? Say what you think and get the sack? Unpleasant There must be some more constructive line of action. And, of course, there were other police officers besides himself who saw things in the same light. But which, and how many?
    No such problems afflicted Bulldozer Olsson. Life, to him, was one big jolly game, and most things as clear as crystal. 'But there's one thing I don't get,' he said.
    'Really?' said Gunvald Larsson. 'What?'
    'What happened to that car? The roadblocks functioned as they ought to, didn't they?'
    'So it appears.'
    'So there should have been men on all the bridges within five minutes.'
    The south of Stockholm is an island, with six points of access. The special squad had long ago devised detailed schemes by which each of the central Stockholm districts could quickly be sealed off.
    'Sure,' said Gunvald Larsson. 'I've checked with the Metropolitan Police. For once