Free The Locked Room by Maj Sjöwall, Per Wahlöö Page A

cause alarm. But...'
    'But what?'
    'Malmström and Mohrén don't shoot people. At least they've never done so yet. If someone causes trouble they just put a bullet in the ceiling, to restore order.'
    'Is there any point in holding this Roos guy?'
    'Hmm, well I suspect Bulldozer's reasoning goes like this: If Roos has one of his usual perfect alibis - for instance, if he was in Yokohama last Friday - then we can be dead sure he planned the job. On the other hand, if he was in Stockholm, then the thing's more doubtful.'
    'What does Roos say himself? Doesn't he get angry?'
    'Never. He says it's true Malmström and Mohrén are old chums of his and he thinks it's sad things should have turned out so badly for them in life. Last time he asked if we thought he could help his old chums in some way. Malm happened to be there. He almost had a brain haemorrhage.'
    'And Olsson?'
    'Bulldozer just roared. He loved it' 'What's he waiting for, then?'
    'The next move, didn't you hear? He thinks Roos is planning a major job which Malmström and Mohrén are going to carry out Presumably Malmström and Mohrén want to scrape enough money together to emigrate quietly and live the rest of their lives on the proceeds.'
    'And it's got to be a bank robbery?'
    'Bulldozer thinks everything except banks can go to the devil,' said Gunvald Larsson. 'It's his orders, so they say.' 'What about the witness?' 'Einar's?' 'Yeah.'
    'He was here this morning, looking at pictures. Didn't recog¬nize anyone.'
    'But he's sure of the car?' 'Damn right'
    Gunvald Larsson sat silent, tugging at his fingers one after the other until the joints cracked. After a long while he said: 'There's something about that car that doesn't jell.'

11
    The day looked as if it was going to be a hot one, and Martin Beck took his lightest suit out of the closet. It was pale blue. He'd bought it a month ago and only worn it once. As he pulled on his trousers a big, sticky chocolate mark on the right trouser knee reminded him how, on that particular occasion, he'd been chat¬ting with Kollberg's two kids and how they'd indulged in an orgy of lollipops and Mums-Mums chocolate balls.
    Martin Beck climbed out of his trousers again, took them into the kitchen, and soaked one corner of a towel in hot water. Then he rubbed the towel against the stain, which immediately spread. Yet he didn't give up. As he gritted his teeth and went on working away at the material he thought to himself it was really only in such situations that he missed Inga - which said a good deal about their former relationship. At least one of the trouser legs was thoroughly soaked, and the stain seemed at least partially to have disappeared. Squeezing his thumb and forefinger along the crease, he hung his trousers over a chair in the sunshine which was flooding in through the open window.
    It was only eight o'clock, but already he'd been awake for several hours. In spite of everything, he'd fallen asleep early the previous evening, and his sleep had been unusually calm and free of dreams.
    True, though it had been his first real working day in a long time, it had not been a particularly strenuous one; even so, it had left him exhausted.
    Martin Beck opened the refrigerator door, inspected the milk carton, the stick of butter, and a solitary bottle of Ramlosa - reminding himself that on his way home tonight he must make some purchases, beer and yoghurt. Or maybe he ought to stop having yoghurt in the mornings; it really didn't taste all that good. On the other hand, that would mean he'd have to think up some¬thing else for his breakfast. The doctor had said he must put back on every pound he'd lost since he'd come out of the hospital, and preferably a few more.
    The telephone in the bedroom rang. Martin Beck closed the refrigerator, and going in, picked up the receiver. It was Sister Birgit at the old people's home.
    'Mrs Beck is worse,' she said. 'This morning she had a high temperature, well over 101. I thought you'd want