Free The Abominable Man by Maj Sjöwall, Per Wahlöö Page B

said.
    “Of course,” said Kollberg. “Revenge. It’s the only conceivable motive.”
    “But if it’s revenge …”
    Rönn said, and left the sentence hanging.
    “Then it’s possible whoever stabbed Nyman is planning to take revenge on other people too,” Kollberg said. “And therefore …”
    “We have to find him fast,” said Martin Beck.
    “Exactly,” said Kollberg. “Now what’s your reasoning been?”
    Rönn looked unhappily at Martin Beck, who in his turn looked out the window.
    Kollberg looked at them both admonishingly.
    “Wait a minute,” he said. “Have you asked the question, Who was Nyman?”
    “Who he was?”
    Rönn seemed confused and Martin Beck said nothing.
    “Right. Who was Nyman? Or more to the point,
what
was Nyman?”
    “A policeman,” said Martin Beck finally.
    “That’s not a very complete answer,” Kollberg said. “Come now, you both knew him. What was Nyman?”
    “A chief inspector,” mumbled Rönn.
    Then he blinked wearily.
    “I have to make a couple of phone calls,” he said evasively.
    “Well?” said Kollberg, when Rönn had closed the door behind him. “What was Nyman?”
    Martin Beck looked him in the eye and said, reluctantly, “He was a bad policeman.”
    “Wrong,” said Kollberg. “Now listen. Nyman was one
hell
of a bad policeman. He was a barbaric son of a bitch of the very worst sort.”
    “You said it, I didn’t,” said Martin Beck.
    “Yes. But you’ll have to admit I’m right.”
    “I didn’t know him very well.”
    “Don’t try to sneak out of it. You knew him well enough to know that much. I realize Einar doesn’t want to admit it, out of misdirected loyalty. But dammit,
you’ve
got to play with your cards on the table.”
    “All right,” said Martin Beck. “The things I’ve heard about him aren’t exactly positive. But I never really worked with him.”
    “Your choice of words isn’t very apt,” Kollberg said. “It wasn’t possible to work
with
Nyman. All you could do was take orders from him and do as you were told. Of course you could give him orders too, if you happened to be in that position. And then have them sabotaged, or simply not carried out at all.”
    “You sound like an expert on Stig Nyman,” said Martin Beck, a little acidly.
    “Yes, I know some things about him the rest of you don’t know. But I’ll get to that later. First of all, let’s get it straight that he was a bastard and a goddammed lousy policeman. Even today he’d be a disgrace to the force. For my part I’m ashamed to have been a policeman in the same city with him. And at the same time.”
    “In that case there are a lot of people who ought to be ashamed.”
    “Exactly. But there aren’t so many who have the sense to be.”
    “And every policeman in London ought to be ashamed about Challenor.”
    “Wrong again,” said Kollberg. “Challenor and someof his underlings were finally brought to trial, even if they did manage to do a lot of damage beforehand. And that showed that in the long run there was some limit to what the system would tolerate in the police.”
    Martin Beck massaged his temple thoughtfully.
    “But Nyman’s name has never been discredited. And why not?”
    Kollberg had to answer his own question.
    “Because everyone knows it’s pointless to report a policeman. The general public has no legal rights vis-à-vis the police. And if you can’t win a case against an ordinary patrolman, then how in the world could you win a case against a chief inspector?”
    “You’re exaggerating.”
    “Not much, Martin. Not much, and you know it as well as I do. It’s just that our damned solidarity has become some kind of second nature. We’re impregnated with esprit de corps.”
    “It’s important to keep up a good front in this job,” said Martin Beck. “It always has been.”
    “And pretty soon it’ll be the only thing left.”
    Kollberg caught his breath before he went on.
    “Okay. The police stick together.