Man On The Balcony (17 page)

He tried to remember whether the woman on the phone had given her address. Probably she had, and in that case Gunvald Larsson must have written it down somewhere.

As the train approached the city center Martin Beck regarded this bright idea of his with waning enthusiasm. The description was so defective that it could fit thousands of people. The fact that Gunvald Larsson had used the same wording on two entirely different occasions need not mean that it referred to the same person. The fact that a man stands on his balcony at all times of the day and night need not mean that he is a presumptive murderer. The fact that Martin Beck on previous occasions had had a flash of intuition which had turned out to provide the solution to difficult cases need not mean that it would do so this time.

Still, it was worth looking into.

Usually he got off at T-Centralen and walked over the Klaraberg viaduct to Kungsholmsgatan, but today he took a taxi.

Gunvald Larsson was sitting at his desk drinking coffee, Kollberg half sat with one thigh over the edge of the desk, nibbling at a pastry. Martin Beck sat down in Melander's chair, stared at Gunvald Larsson and said:

'Do you remember that woman who called up the same day I went to Motala? She wanted to report a man who was standing on a balcony on the other side of the street?"

Kollberg put the rest of the pastry into his mouth and stared at Martin Beck in astonishment

'Hell, yes," Gunvald Larsson said. "That crazy bitch. What about her?"

'Do you remember how she described him?"

'No, I certainly don't. How can I remember what all these nutty people say?"

Kollberg swallowed with some difficulty and said:

'What are you talking about?"

Martin Beck waved him to be quiet and went on:

'Think hard, Gunvald. It might be important."

Gunvald Larsson looked at him distrustfully.

'Why? Okay, wait, and I'll think."

After a while he said:

'Now I've thought. No, I don't remember. I don't think there was anything special about him. He no doubt looked very ordinary."

He shoved the knuckle of his first finger into a nostril and frowned.

'Wasn't his fly undone? No, wait… No, it was his shirt. He had a white shirt and it was unbuttoned. That's it, now I remember. The old woman said he had blue-gray eyes and then I asked how narrow the street was. And do you know what she said? That the street wasn't narrow at all but that she looked at him through binoculars. Crazy. She was a peeper, of course, and she's the one who ought to be locked up. Sitting gaping at men through binoculars…"

'What are you talking about?" Kollberg asked again.

'That's what I'm wondering," Gunvald Larsson said. "Why is that suddenly so important?"

Martin Beck sat silent for a moment. Then he said:

'I happened to think of that man on the balcony because Gunvald used the same wording when he repeated the woman's description as when he summed up Lundgren's description of the man in Vanadis Park. Thin hair brushed back, big nose, average height, white unbuttoned shut, brown trousers, blue-gray eyes. Is that right?"

'Maybe," Gunvald Larsson said. "I don't really remember. But it fits Lundgren's man anyway."

'You mean it could be the same person?" Kollberg asked doubtfully. "It's not a very unusual description, is it?" Martin Beck shrugged.

'No. It doesn't tell us very much. But ever since we questioned Lundgren I've had a hunch that there's a connection between the murders and that man on the balcony. It's just that I couldn't put my finger on it until today."

He stroked his chin and looked awkwardly at Kollberg. "It's a very frail supposition. Not much to go on. I know that. But it might be worth while checking up on that man." Kollberg got up and went over to the window. Stood with his back to it and folded his arms. "Well, frail suppositions sometimes…"

Martin Beck was still looking at Gunvald Larsson.

'Come on now, try and remember that conversation. What did the woman say when she called up?"

Gunvald Larsson flung out his big hands.

'That's all she said. That she wanted to report a man who was standing on the balcony opposite. She thought it funny."

'Why did she think it funny?"

'Because he was nearly always standing there. At night too. She said she watched him through binoculars. That he stood looking down into the street at the cars and at children playing. Then she lost her temper because I was not sufficiently interested. But why should I be interested? People have a right to stand on their balconies without the neighbors calling up the police. Eh? What the hell did she want me to do?"

'Where did she live?" Martin Beck asked.

'I don't know," Gunvald Larsson replied. "I'm not even sure she said."

'What was her name?" Kollberg asked.

'I don't know. Come to that, how the hell could I know?"

'Didn't you ask her?" Martin Beck said.

'Yes, I suppose I did. One always does."

'Can't you remember?" Kollberg said. "Think hard."

Martin Beck and Kollberg watched with close attention the visible expressions of Gunvald Larsson's forced mental processes. He had his fair eyebrows drawn together so that they formed a continuous line above the clear blue eyes. He was also red in the face and looked as if he sat straining. After a while he said:

'No, I don't remember. Mrs… er… Mrs. something."

'Didn't you write it down anywhere?" Martin Beck asked. "You always make a note of things."

Gunvald Larsson glared at him.

'Yes, I do. But I don't keep all my notes. I mean, it wasn't anything important. A crazy old girl calling up. Why should I remember it?"

Kollberg sighed.

'Well, where do we go from here?"

'When is Melander coming?" Martin Beck asked.

'Three o'clock, I think. He was working last night."

'Call up and ask him to come here now," Martin Beck said. "He can sleep some other time."

SURE ENOUGH, when Kollberg called up, Melander was asleep in his apartment at the corner of Norr Mälarstrand and Polhemsgatan. Dressing at once, he drove the short distance to Kungsholmsgatan in his own car and only a quarter of an hour later he joined the other three.

He recalled the telephone conversation and when they had run the last part of the tape from the interrogation with Rolf Evert Lundgren, he confirmed that Martin Beck's theory concerning the description was correct. Then he asked for a cup of coffee and began carefully filling his pipe.

He lighted up, leaned back in the chair and said:

'So you think there's some connection?"

'It's only supposition," Martin Beck said. "A contribution to the guessing competition."

'There may be something in it, of course," Melander said. "What do you want me to do about it?"

'Use that built-in computer you have instead of a brain," Kollberg said.

Melander nodded and went on calmly sucking at Ms pipe. Kollberg called him "the living punch-card machine," which was a fitting name. Melander's memory had already become legendary within the force.

'Try and remember what Gunvald said and did when he got that phone call," Martin Beck said.

'Wasn't it the day before Lennart came here?" Melander said. "Let's see now… the second of June it must have been. I had the office next door then, and when Lennart came I moved in here."

'Exactly," Martin Beck said. "And I went down to Motala that day. I was on the way to the train and only looked in to ask about that fence."

'Larsson, the one who had died."

Kollberg was perched on the window sill, listening. He had often been present when Melander recapitulated the course of events—sometimes they had been much farther back than this—and he always had the feeling that he was witnessing a seance.

Melander had taken up what Kollberg called "his thinker pose": he was leaning back in the chair with his legs stretched full length but crossed, his eyes half shut, and drawing calmly at his pipe. Martin Beck, as usual, stood with one arm on the filing cabinet.

'When I came in you were standing exactly where you're standing now and Gunvald sat where he's sitting now. We were talking about that fence when the phone rang. Gunvald answered. He said his name and asked hers, I remember that."

'Do you remember whether he wrote the name down?" Martin Beck asked.

'I think so. I remember he had a pen in his hand. Yes, he must have made a note of it."

'Do you remember whether he asked for the address?"

'No, I don't think he did. But she may have given both name and address all at once."

Martin Beck looked inquiringly at Gunvald Larsson, who shrugged.

'I don't recall any address at any rate," he said.

'Then he said something about a cat," Melander said.

'So I did," Gunvald Larsson said. "I thought that's what she said. That there was a cat on her balcony. Then she said it was a man and of course I thought she meant that he was standing on her balcony. Seeing she called up the police."

'Then you asked her to describe the man and I remember plainly that you made notes at the same time as you repeated what she said."

'Okay," Gunvald Larsson said, "but if I made notes, which I've no doubt I did, then I wrote on the block here, and since it turned out that no action was needed, I probably tore the sheet off and threw it away."

Martin Beck lighted a cigarette, walked over and put the match in Melander's ashtray and returned to his place at the cabinet.

'Yes, I'm afraid you probably did," he said. "Go on, Fredrik."

'It wasn't until after she'd given you the description that you realized he was standing on his own balcony, eh?"

'Yes," Gunvald Larsson said. "I thought the old girl was nutty."

'Then you asked how it was she could see that he had blue-gray eyes if he was on the other side of the street."

'That was when the old girl said she had been watching him through binoculars."

Melander looked up in surprise.

'Binoculars? Good Lord."

'Yes, and I asked if he had molested her in any way, but he hadn't. He just stood there, and she thought it was nasty, she said."

'He evidently stood there at night too," Melander said.

'Yes. That's what she said anyway."

'And you asked what he was looking at and she said that he kept looking down at the street. At cars and children playing. And then you asked if she thought you ought to send the dog van."

Gunvald Larsson looked irritably at Martin Beck and said:

'Yes, Martin had been standing here nagging about it. It was a good chance for him to send out his goddam dog van."

Martin Beck exchanged a glance with Kollberg but said nothing.

'That was the end of the conversation, I think," Melander said. "The old girl thought you were insolent and put down the phone. And I went back to my room."

Martin Beck sighed.

'Well, that's not much to go on. Except that the description tallies."

'Funny for a guy to stand on his balcony day and night," Kollberg said. "Maybe he'd been pensioned off and had nothing else to do."

'No," Gunvald Larsson said. "It wasn't that… Now I remember she said, 'And he's a young man too. Couldn't be over forty. Seems to have nothing better to do than stand there staring.' Those were her very words. I'd quite forgotten."

Martin Beck lowered his arm from the cabinet and said:

'In that case it also fits Lundgren's description. About forty. If she examined him in the binoculars she should have seen him pretty plainly."

'Didn't she say how long she'd been looking at him 'before she called you up?" Kollberg asked.

Gunvald Larsson thought hard for a moment, then said:

'Wait now… Yes, she said she had been observing him for the last two months but that he might easily have been there earlier without her thinking anything of it. First she'd thought he stood debating whether to take 'his life or not. To jump, she said."

'Are you sure you still haven't your notes somewhere?" Martin Beck asked.

Gunvald Larsson pulled out a drawer, took out a thin bundle of papers of different sizes, laid them in front of him and started looking through them.

'These are all the notes about things that have to be followed up and reported on. When the matter has been dealt with I throw the notes away," he said as he fingered through them.

Melander leaned forward and knocked out his pipe.

'Yes," he said. "You had the pen in your hand and as you picked up the note pad you moved the telephone directory aside…"

Gunvald Larsson had looked through the bundle and put it back in the drawer.

'No, I know I haven't kept any notes of that conversation. It's a pity, but I haven't."

Melander raised his pipe and pointed at Gunvald Larsson with the stem.

'The telephone directory," he said.

'What telephone directory?"

'A telephone directory was lying open on your desk. Didn't you write in that?"

'It's possible."

Gunvald Larsson reached for his telephone directories and said:

'Hell of a job looking through all these."

Putting down his pipe, Melander said:

'You don't have to. If you wrote anything—and I think you did—it wasn't in your directory."

Martin Beck suddenly saw the scene in front of him. Melander had come into the room from next door with an open telephone directory in his hands, given it to him and shown him the name of the fence, Arvid Larsson. Then Martin Beck himself had put the directory down on the desk.

'Lennart," he said. "Would you mind getting the first part of the telephone directory in your room?"

Martin Beck looked first for the page giving Larsson Arvid sec. hand f urn. No notes there. Then he started at the beginning and looked through the directory carefully page by page. In several places he found illegible scrawls, most of them written in Melander's unmistakable hand but also some in Kollberg's clear and legible writing. The others stood round him in silence, waiting. Gunvald Larsson looked over his shoulder.

Not until he got to page 1082 did Gunvald Larsson exclaim:

'There!"