The Princess of Burundi - Kjell Eriksson [104]
“I take it you realize that you have been arrested for two murders, unlawful entering, sexual harassment, and threat of violence?”
Vincent didn’t answer and Beatrice repeated her question.
“Yes,” he said at last.
“What do you mean by saying, ‘Justice has been served’?”
“You don’t understand? Now I can be at peace.”
“Did you know John Jonsson?”
“Yes.” The answer came quickly. “He belonged to the legion.”
“Which legion?”
“The legion of evildoers.”
“What do you have to say about his death?”
“It’s a good thing.”
Haver and Beatrice exchanged a look.
“Did you murder John Jonsson?”
“I stabbed him with a knife.”
Vincent made a stabbing motion with his hand, and a chill ran through both of the officers.
“Could you describe the knife?”
“A knife. A long knife. He did not get away. I stabbed him again and again.”
“Could you describe it in greater detail?”
“A knife that kills.”
“Do you still have it?”
Hahn fumbled in his right pants pocket.
“No,” he said. “I…It…”
“Did you throw it somewhere?”
“I don’t know. I had it in my coat.”
“Tell me how you met John.”
“I saw him on Vaksala torg, outside the school. He was close to me. I stabbed him.”
“Right there in the square?”
“I don’t know. Not that square.”
A note of insecurity sneaked into his voice again. He hesitated, looked away from the police officers, and rocked back and forth before continuing.
“He laughed, he laughed at me. He pointed. He was angry. Everyone was angry that day.”
“When was it?”
“It was…He was holding a Christmas tree.”
“A Christmas tree? He was buying a Christmas tree in Vaksala torg?”
“Did you talk?”
Beatrice’s and Haver’s questions overlapped.
“John never said anything to me. He was making fun of me.”
“You said you stabbed him with a knife. Where did you do this?”
“I stabbed him many times.”
“But where? On the square?”
“He chased me there once.”
“When you went to school, you mean?”
“He wasn’t a good man. The other one wasn’t good either.”
“Which other one?”
“The one with the cap. He was talking so loud. I don’t like it when people raise their voice.”
“Was he also there on the square?”
Hahn nodded.
“What did the man look like?”
Ola Haver was so impatient that he felt as if worms were crawling under his skin. Beatrice took a deep breath that afterward, when the tape was replayed, sounded like a desperate attempt to get air.
“He looked like a military man. I stood close to him in case John was going to make fun of him too.”
Here, Hahn paused.
“Could you describe his clothing?”
Silence.
“You wanted to protect him against John, is that what you mean?”
“Now I know I was right.”
“Right about what?”
“To take revenge. Justice.”
“What happened with the man and John?”
“They walked away with the Christmas tree.”
“Where?”
Hahn’s face now took on a pained expression. He slumped down in the chair and shut his eyes. Haver looked at the time. They had talked for fifteen minutes. How long would Hahn have the energy to keep going?
“Would you like some juice?”
“They walked up to the school, under the arch,” Hahn continued unexpectedly. “It echoed under there if you shouted.”
Haver had been to the Vaksala school to give a talk about drugs and had a clear memory of what it had looked like. The entrance to the school facing the square was a large archway leading to the school yard. On the other side was the cafeteria, which was being rebuilt. Another construction site, he thought, and the glimmer of something he had had felt during the meeting returned. There was something he had seen or heard. Was it all about construction sites? Construction at the hospital, and now construction at the school.
“Did you follow them through the arch?”
“Sometimes it smells like shit in there,” Hahn said. “Then I don’t like to go.”
“But this time you did?”
A new nod.
“John threw one at me.”
“A what?”
“A stink bomb.”
“But this time it didn’t smell, so you could walk through?”
“They put the tree in the car and I ran over to catch up.”
“And did you?”
Hahn raised his head and stared at Beatrice.
“Did you catch up to them?”
She was trying