Free The Inspector and Silence by Håkan Nesser Page A

from the whole congregation. Girls being spanked on their bare bottoms. And a number of other activities with marked sexual undertones. Or overtones. The Pure Life was sometimes described in newspapers as the sex-sect, sometimes as devil-worshippers, and the eventual outcome was that Yellinek was sentenced to six months in prison for mild indecency and illegal compulsion.
    Mild indecency? the chief inspector thought, fanning himself with an old newspaper. Was there really such an offence? He couldn’t remember ever having come across it before, that was for sure.
    Paradoxically, the sentence and Yellinek’s time behind bars seemed to result in a slight change in public opinion, according to Münster’s documents. The imprisoned priest achieved a certain martyrdom, and the reputation of the Pure Life seemed – temporarily at least – to rise out of the dirt. While waiting for their spiritual leader’s return, most members went to ground; but the sect was not wound up, and surprisingly few left.
    After half a year of diaspora, the shepherd returned to his flock, and as far as one could tell, activities began again on the same basis as before. There were no obvious changes, except perhaps a more marked tendency to remain aloof from the everyday world and discourage interest from outside, be it from journalists or anybody else. Even so the membership continued to expand slowly but surely, and by the middle of the nineties it appeared to be about a thousand souls. Oscar Yellinek’s position as the sole spiritual leader had probably never been stronger.
    The view of other communions when it came to the Pure Life was more or less one hundred per cent critical; there had never been room for any interest in fellowship and ecumenical matters in Yellinek’s teachings, and serious commentators obviously regarded the sect as a rather promiscuous and generally dodgy phenomenon.
    Among Kluuge’s information from the police in Stamberg were also several indications of the so-called defector syndrome, which meant that former members had been harassed in various ways after leaving the sect. Such incidents were by no means unknown in similar circumstances, but as far as the Pure Life was concerned it seemed to be mainly rumours and occasional notices in the local press. There had been no cases leading to police intervention or any other kind of reaction from the authorities.
    But there was no doubt at all that there were a lot of critical voices complaining about Oscar Yellinek and his flock. Nevertheless, the general opinion seemed to be that they were pretty harmless – a collection of vulnerable and confused melancholics who could be left to get on with whatever kept them happy, so long as they left ordinary honest people in peace.
    Which is what they had evidently been doing since Yellinek’s release from prison. No public meetings. No ads in newspapers or anywhere else. No missionary activities. Any recruitment was obviously carried out by members on a private basis.
    It could hardly be said that there was any reliable information available regarding the Pure Life’s activities and ideas, however.
    Neither Münster’s nor Kluuge’s informants could provide any such thing.
    So that was that. Van Veeteren slid the papers to one side and mopped his brow. Looked to see if there was anything drinkable around, but it was clear that it was not part of Chief of Police Malijsen’s routine to offer unexpected visitors a drink. Or perhaps he had locked the stuff away in some secure hiding place, safe from the grasp of stand-ins or any other possible spongers.
    ‘All very fishy,’ muttered the chief inspector.
    He wasn’t sure if that comment was aimed at Yellinek or Malijsen. Probably at both of them. He sighed. Lifted the telephone receiver and started to ring Kluuge’s home number, but then stopped. Better to let him devote his energy to his family, he decided.
    Better – moreover – to give himself the opportunity of discussing