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was  Flinck,  the  second
policeman.
“I just wanted to say that
we apprehended the man you
saw,” the policeman said. “In
other words, you can relax.
We have the situation under
control.”
“Who is it?” Balder said.
“I couldn’t say. He’s very
drunk and we have to get him
to  quieten  down.  I  just
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wanted  to  let  you  know.
We’ll get back to you.”
Balder  put  the  mobile
down on the bedside table,
next to his laptop, and tried to
congratulate  himself.  Now
the man was under arrest, and
his research would not fall
into the wrong hands. Yet he
was not reassured. At first he
did not understand why. Then
it hit him: the man who had
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run along the trees had been
anything but drunk.
It took a full minute or more
before  Blom  realized  that
they had not in fact arrested a
notorious criminal but rather
the  actor  Lasse  Westman,
who did often enough play
bandits  and  hit  men  on
screen,  but  who  was  not
himself wanted for any crime.
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The realization did not make
Blom feel any calmer. Not
just because he suspected it
had been a mistake to leave
the area of the trees and the
bins down there, but because
this whole episode could lead
to scandal and headlines in
the press.
He  knew  enough  about
Westman  to  be  aware  that
whatever that man did all too
often ended up in the evening
papers, and you could not say
that  the  actor  was  looking
particularly happy. He puffed
and swore as he scrambled to
get to his feet and Blom tried
to work out what on earth the
man was doing out here in the
middle of the night.
“Do you live in the area?”
he said.
“I don’t have to tell you a
fucking  thing,”  Westman
hissed, and Blom turned to
Flinck  in  an  attempt  to
understand  how  the  whole
drama had begun.
But  Flinck  was  already
standing  a  little  way  off
talking  into  his  mobile,
apparently  with  Balder.  He
probably wanted to show how
efficient he was by passing on
the news that they had seized
the suspect, if indeed he was
the suspect.
“Have you been snooping
around  Professor  Balder’s
property?” Blom said.
“Didn’t you hear what I
said? I’m not telling you a
fucking thing. What the hell,
here  I  am  strolling  around
perfectly  peacefully  and
along  comes  that  maniac
waving  his  pistol.  It’s
scandalous. Don’t you know
who I am?”
“I know who you are, and
if we have overreacted then I
apologize.  I’m  sure  we’ll
have a chance to talk about it
again. But right now we’re in
the middle of a tense situation
and I demand that you tell me
at  once  what  brought  you
here to Professor Balder – oh
no, don’t you try to run away
now!”
Westman was probably not
trying to escape at all. He was
only having trouble keeping
his balance. Then he cleared
his throat rather dramatically
and spat right out into the air.
The phlegm did not get far
but flew back like a projectile
and froze to ice on his cheek.
“Do 
you 
know
something?” he said, wiping
his face.
“No?”
“I’m not the bad guy in this
story.”
Blom  looked  nervously
down towards the water and
the  avenue  of  trees  and
wondered yet again what he
had seen there. And still he
remained standing where he
was,  paralysed  by  the
absurdity of the situation.
“Well then, who is?”
“Balder.”
“How so?”
“He’s taken my girlfriend’s
son.”
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