forward and turned on the radio. The Sven-Ingvar hit about “The Only Blonde in Town” filled the car. Loud and off-key, they all joined in on the chorus. They giggled when the music faded out. A pleasant male voice rapidly announced, “And that’s all for Melody Cavalcade for today. This is Program Three. Time for Today’s Echo at a Quarter to Five.”
Out of sheer reflex Irene stomped on the brakes, and almost got a taxi in her rear bumper.
Her male colleagues yelled simultaneously, “What are you doing?” “Watch out for the cab!”
Demonstrating discipline, she put on the blinker and turned down Burgårdsgatan. The gods must have accepted some offering she had made, because she lucked out and found an empty parking space. She turned off the engine and turned up the volume of the radio, staring as if entranced by the tiny glowing red and green lights on the car radio that showed it was on. Fascinated she whispered, “Listen, you guys, listen!”
“. . . no serious incidents in yesterday’s demonstrations in conjunction with the anniversary of Karl the Twelfth’s death. The police . . .”
Fredrik looked angry, mostly because of shock. “What was that all about? You could have caused an accident! Then they can say on the Echo tomorrow, ‘Three cops in Göteborg were the cause of a serious accident in rush-hour traffic yesterday, due to an acute brain malfunction on the part of the driver!’”
Tommy started to laugh, but Irene just waved her hand and didn’t take her eyes off the radio. Dramatically she said, “Didn’t you hear the sound of something cracking?”
Fredrik and Tommy exchanged a glance, filled with male bonding. Fredrik’s circling index finger next to his temple was enough. Irene saw it and started laughing too.
“What just cracked was Charlotte’s alibi. There isn’t any five o’clock news on the radio! It’s called Today’s Echo at a Quarter to Five because it’s on at a quarter to five!”
The two colleagues realized what she was getting at. That would give Charlotte an extra fifteen minutes, which would be plenty of time to reach Molinsgatan from Mölndalsvägen.
Tommy was the one who recovered first. “Is there really no five o’clock news?”
“No, not on the big radio stations. And since Charlotte’s Golf was brand new when she left the Volkswagen dealership on Tuesday afternoon, I doubt she had managed to set the button for any small local station that broadcast news.”
Tommy leaned forward between the front seats and said, “I think you’re right, Irene. We have to start keeping an eye on Henrik and Charlotte. But it’s clear that they have already done what they intended. Now they just have to lie low. If only we could get hold of a single piece of evidence that would hold up! Somebody who saw Charlotte on Molinsgatan on the night of the murder. A witness who saw Henrik load his gasoline cans in and out of the Porsche. But no! They were God damned lucky! All we have are circumstantial evidence and guesses!”
Irene agreed and started the car again. She took great pains to be an exemplary driver. It wasn’t good to subject her colleagues’ nerves to any more stress than necessary.
SUPERINTENDENT SVEN Andersson blew his nose on a piece of toilet paper. He had a headache, and his eyes and nose were running. He was considering going straight home to make himself a hot cognac toddy and crawl into bed, when the three inspectors called and reported red-hot new information in the von Knecht case. Quietly snuffling, he listened to their accounts of the day’s testimony and new leads.
He sat silent a long time and thought about what he had heard. Finally he said, “Well, I’ll be damned. Charlotte and Richard von Knecht! That’s a reasonable conclusion to draw after that neighbor’s testimony. But we have to have proof! It’s not such a good idea to watch Henrik or Charlotte. What they’re doing now isn’t as interesting as the deviltry they’ve already committed. We have to find more proof, and preferably the type that’s binding. Could they have planned to murder Richard von Knecht together?”
Tommy shook his head and said, “We discussed that, but we don’t think that’s how it happened. There’s plenty to indicate that the bombing was planned and carried out by one person and the actual murder by another. If Charlotte knew that Henrik had placed a bomb on Berzeliigatan, she wouldn’t have had to take any risks by murdering her father-in-law herself! All she had to