Free The Steel Spring by Per Wahlöö Page B

woman doctor or nurse in a white coat shouted through a megaphone that everybody who wasn’t sick had to be evacuated because of the epidemic. We were going to a place where there wasn’t such risk of infection. She said we didn’t need to take anything with us, because we’d soon be back and everything we needed would be provided where we were going. We just had to get down there quickly, and leave the doors of our flats open so they could be sprayed with disinfectant. And then we’d be vaccinated. She said it was on the orders of some chief or other.’
    ‘The chief medical officer?’
    ‘That’s right. Loads of people went down voluntarily and got on the buses.’
    ‘You didn’t?’
    ‘No … we’d been petrified ever since what happened to the children. We stayed here.’
    ‘Did anything else happen?’
    The man looked at his wife, not sure how to go on.
    ‘It was horrible,’ she said. ‘When people stopped coming out, no matter how much they shouted, the doctors and sanitation soldiers went up the staircases …’
    ‘Go on.’
    ‘I went out on to the landing,’ the man said uncertainly. ‘And I … well, I heard them at some of the locked doors, and they smashed them down and hauled out the people who’d stayedbehind. So we opened our front door and hid in the wardrobe. They didn’t find us.’
    ‘I had my hand over his mouth the whole time,’ said the woman, looking at the boy. ‘I was afraid I was going to suffocate him. But then, after about half an hour, we heard the sirens again and the motor engine noise as they drove off. Then we thought it would be safe to come out.’
    ‘And nobody’s been here since then?’
    ‘Not until you came,’ said the man. ‘But ambulances drive past every so often. They collect up anyone they find outside and take them away.’
    ‘We mustn’t go out,’ said the woman, squeezing the child’s hand.
    ‘Is it just you in this block now?’
    The man and woman exchanged doubtful glances.
    ‘Did you hear the question?’ said Jensen.
    ‘Yes,’ said the man, ‘I heard.’
    ‘Well?’
    ‘No, there are some others here. They must have done the same as us. Hidden. We never see them, but we hear them.’
    ‘The sound really carries here,’ the woman said apologetically.
    Jensen still had his eyes fixed on the man.
    ‘One more thing,’ he said.
    ‘Yes?’
    ‘Why didn’t you obey the evacuation order when so many other people did? And why didn’t you let the child be taken to a place of safety?’
    The man shifted his weight to the other foot and looked round nervously.
    ‘Answer the question.’
    ‘Well, I went on working longer than most people, and …’
    ‘And?’
    ‘Er, I knew the blokes at work who were on the trains and trucks that collected the rubbish from the main hospital and that big detoxification unit. They said …’
    He stopped.
    ‘What did they say?’
    ‘That anyone who went into hospital caught it and died. Blood donors and anybody else.’
    ‘But your colleagues didn’t catch it?’
    ‘No, they were never let into the actual buildings.’
    ‘So it was all just rumour?’
    ‘Yes,’ the man said.
    Jensen studied his notebook for a while. Then he said:
    ‘What had happened earlier. Before the epidemic?’
    They looked at him, confused.
    ‘Nothing,’ said the man. ‘I was working.’
    ‘There were disturbances. The election was postponed, wasn’t it?’
    ‘So I heard. But we didn’t see anything about it on TV or in the papers.’
    ‘Nothing at all?’
    ‘Only that they were putting off the election because there were antisocial elements trying to sabotage it.’
    ‘Were there any of these antisocial elements at your own place of work?’
    The man shrugged.
    ‘Well, I don’t really know. The police came for a few people.’
    ‘What sort of police?’
    ‘Don’t know. But someone said they were the secret police.’
    ‘There’s no such thing as the secret police.’
    ‘Oh. Isn’t there?’
    ‘No. How