The Laughing Policeman

The police stations downtown had frequent visits from the outriders of the great family festival, in the shape of Santa Clauses who were dragged blind drunk out of doorways and public urinals. At Mariatorget two exhausted beat officers dropped a drunken Father Christmas in the gutter when they tried to get him into a taxi.

During the ensuing uproar the two policemen were hard pressed by bewildered, screaming children and furious, foul-mouthed boozers. One of the officers lost his temper when a lump of ice landed in his eye and he resorted to his truncheon. Hit out at random and struck an inquisitive old-age pensioner. It didn't look pretty and the police-haters were given grist for their mill.

'There's a latent hatred of police in all classes of society,' Melander said. 'And it needs only an impulse to trigger it off.'

'Oh,' Kollberg said, with complete lack of interest. 'And what is the reason for that?'

'The reason is that the police are a necessary evil’ Melander said. 'Everybody knows, even professional criminals, that they may suddenly find themselves in a situation in which only the police can help them. When the burglar wakes up at night and hears a rattling in his cellar, what does he do? Calls the police, of course. But so long as such situations don't crop up, most people react with either fear or contempt when the police, in one way or other, interfere in their existence or disturb their peace of mind.'

'Well, that's the last straw, if we have to regard ourselves as a necessary evil,' Kollberg muttered despondently.

'The crux of the problem is, of course,' Melander went on, quite unconcerned, 'the paradox that the police profession in itself calls for the highest intelligence and exceptional mental, physical and moral qualities in its practicians but has nothing to attract individuals who possess them.'

‘You're horrible,' Kollberg said.

Martin Beck had heard the arguments many times before and was not amused.

'Can't you carry on your sociological discussions somewhere else?' he said grumpily. 'I'm trying to think.'

'Of what?' Kollberg said.

And the telephone rang.

'Hello. Beck.'

'Hjelm here. How's it going?'

'Between ourselves, badly.'

'Have you identified that guy with no face yet?'

Martin Beck had known Hjelm for many years and had great confidence in him. He was not the only one; Hjelm was considered by many to be one of the cleverest forensic technicians in the world. If he were handled in the right way.

'No,' Martin Beck said. 'Nobody seems to miss him. And the door-knockers have drawn a blank.'

He drew a deep breath and went on.

‘You don't mean to say you've produced something new?'

Hjelm must be flattered - that was a well-known fact

'Yes,' he said smugly. 'We've given him an extra going-over. Tried to build up a more detailed picture. That gives some idea of the living person. I think we've managed to give him a certain character.'

Can I say: ‘You don't mean it?' thought Martin Beck.

'You don't mean it,' he said.

Yes, I do,' Hjelm said delightedly. 'The result's better than we expected.'

What should he pile on now? 'Fantastic'? 'Splendid'? Just plain: 'Fine'? or 'Terrific'? Must go into training at Inga's coffee klatsch, he thought

'Great’ he said.

'Thanks,' Hjelm replied enthusiastically.

'Don't mention it I suppose you can't tell me -

'Oh, sure. That's why I called up. We took a look at his teeth first. Not easy. They're in bad shape. But the fillings we have found are carelessly done. I don't think they can be the work of a Swedish dentist. I won't say any more on that point'

'That in itself is a good deal.'

'Then there's his clothes. We've traced his suit to one of the Hollywood shops here in Stockholm. There are three, as you may know. One on Vasagatan, one on Götgatan and one at St Eriksplan.'

'Good,' Martin Beck said laconically.

He couldn't play the hypocrite any more.

‘Yes,' Hjelm said sourly, 'that’s what I think. Further, the suit was dirty. It has certainly never been dry-cleaned, and I should think he's worn it day in day out for a long time.'

'How long?'

'A year, at a guess.'

'Have you anything more?'