Free Project Nirvana by Stefan Tegenfalk Page B

Walter. “He’s been under investigation by County CID on many occasions, but we’ve never been able to make anything stick. He’s an arms dealer and supplies Stockholm’s thugs with all sorts of goodies. He always uses a go-between and no one knows how he smuggles the weapons into the country. Some rumours suggest that he has contacts within the military, but there’s nothing we can prove. A few years ago, we had him under surveillance around the clock. We monitored everything he did for over a year. Even so, the bastard managed to do business as usual and we couldn’t charge him with anything, except that he had tampered with his electricity meter.”
    “So Hugo Stridh lives in Dalarö?”
    “A few kilometres from the tourist lodge. We’re going to pay him a visit. It’s unlikely that Tor would be in this area and not visit Stridh.”
    Thirty minutes later, they parked the car outside a red farmhouse with white woodwork. Two tethered dogs barked angrily as Walter and Jonna got out of the car. Before they got to the steps leading up to the front door, it opened.
    “Cops,” Stridh greeted them impassively.
    “What was Tor Hedman doing here?” Walter asked, pushing past Stridh in the doorway. Jonna followed him, despite the fact that she was once again breaking the law.
    “Tor . . . who?”
    “Don’t act more stupid than you already are,” Walter said in a harsh voice. “The landlady of the tourist lodge is in intensive care with serious head injuries after being mugged. Guess who the mugger was?”
    Walter sat at the kitchen table. Stridh’s gaze moved suspiciously between Walter and Jonna. “How am I supposed to know who did it?”
    “If I tell you what time it happened, then you might find it easier to remember which one of your clients was visiting.”
    “Nobody’s been here,” the old man insisted. He stuck a pipe in the corner of his mouth and sat down on a kitchen stool.
    “Not even Hedman?” asked Walter.
    “No.”
    “Did he try to sell you a ring?” asked Jonna.
    “A ring?”
    “Yes” said Jonna and could see the old man’s pupils dilating. Now she was sure he was lying.
    “Let me tell you something,” Walter said and moved closer to Stridh. “I don’t believe you are telling me the truth. And do you know what else I believe?
    The old man shook his head indifferently.
    “I think that Hedman tried to sell you a ring that had once belonged to the late Omar. You know, the Gnesta fixer.”
    “I know nothing about that.”
    “Oh, I think you do,” said Walter. “We just want to know if you sold Hedman any weapons and where we can find him. I don’t give a rat’s arse about anything else that happened here.”
    The old man gazed silently at Walter for a while. Then he lit his pipe and moved to a rocking chair. He spat out a piece of tobacco and gently rocked the chair.
    Walter was getting impatient. “Well?”
    “There was no deal,” Stridh finally spoke up. “He did offer me an ugly signet ring, but I turned him down.”
    “Do you know where he was heading?” Jonna asked.
    “It was of no interest to me,” Stridh said and took a deep puff of his pipe. Jonna had to take a few steps backwards to avoid being enveloped in the smoke.
    “Was he alone?” asked Walter.
    “Yes, as far as I could tell. He arrived in a taxi. How is Hélène?”
    “She’ll survive,” said Walter. “She’ll be in hospital for a while though. Hedman gave her a nasty concussion.”
    “Damned fool,” muttered Stridh. “The likes of him shouldn’t be walking around free.”
    “You’re right. What a fucked-up world it is,” Walter agreed. “If only people would abide by the law.”
    Jonna turned over and looked at the alarm clock for the tenth time. Now, it was twenty past eleven. Her first sleep cycle had been spent wide awake and now she could only wait until the next one came.
    The day ahead was already busy. The first meeting was with the National Bureau of Investigation, as the