The Man Who Watched Women: Scandinavian crime writing at its best from the creators of hit TV series The Bridge by Michael Hjorth & Hans Rosenfeldt

Author:Michael Hjorth & Hans Rosenfeldt [Hjorth, Michael]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781473535350
Publisher: Random House
Published: 2015-06-17T14:00:00+00:00

The last thing on his list was to get hold of Trolle and tell him to put a stop to his investigations. Sebastian had called from work and later from his mobile, but he had heard nothing all day. Now he let the phone ring and ring once more. He was starting to get worried. The mere thought that Torkel might sooner or later get in touch with his former colleague turned his blood to ice. And it would happen. In spite of everything, Trolle Hermansson had been one of the best officers involved in the Hinde case in the nineties. Torkel respected him in many ways. Not as a person, they were too different for that, but as a professional. Whatever you thought about Trolle, there was no denying the fact that he always got results. And Torkel was going to want to speak to him. Particularly if the investigation remained at a standstill. That was the secret of good police work. You turned over one stone after another, prioritised, started with those who appeared to be most closely connected to the investigation, then worked outwards. Further and further from the centre, until you had gone through every possibility. Then you started all over again. Trolle wasn’t the hottest lead, but as time went by a good police officer would reach the conclusion that it might be worthwhile having a chat with him, and Torkel was a good police officer. One of the best, in fact. At some point in the future the Trolle-stone would be turned over. When that happened every dam might suddenly break, everything Sebastian was trying to hide might come cascading out and everything would be destroyed.

Because Trolle Hermansson couldn’t be trusted.

After yet another unanswered call, Sebastian decided to go and see him. Just because he wasn’t answering the phone didn’t necessarily mean he wasn’t home. Sebastian jumped in a taxi. It was a fraction cooler now, and he opened the window to get a little bit of fresh air. He could see people strolling along in their summery clothes; the city really came to life on these warm nights. Everyone looked so young and happy, all in groups of two or more. What happened to the old and the lonely and the depressed in summer? he wondered as he looked at them.

He was almost there when he spotted Trolle on the pavement on the other side of the street. He was wearing a big black coat, so he was hard to miss. Most of the people Sebastian had seen on the way hadn’t been wearing coats or jackets, and those who had went for pale colours and light fabrics. Trolle looked as if he were equipped for the worst winter in living memory. Sebastian asked the driver to stop and stuffed a few hundred-kronor notes in his hand. He leapt out of the taxi and ran towards Trolle, who turned into Ekholmsvägen and out of his sight just a few hundred metres up ahead. He seemed to be on his way home.

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