Roseanna mb-1

by Maj Sjowall

  K: Was she messy?

  P: Only with her appearance, but I am sure that was put on. She pretended that she never realized there were such things as cosmetics, hairdressers or nylon stockings. But with other things she was almost meticulous, above all with her books.

  K: What kind of interests did she have?

  P: She read a lot. Wrote a bit, but don't ask me what because I don't know. In the summer she was often out for hours. She said that she liked to walk. And then men. But she didn't have a lot of interests.

  K: Was Miss McGraw an attractive woman?

  P: Not at all. You ought to have understood that from what I've said. But she was man crazy and that goes a long way.

  K: Did she have any steady man in her life?

  P: When she moved out she did go around now and then with a man who worked for the Highway Department for a half a year. I met him a few times. Lord knows how often she cheated on him, probably hundreds.

  K: While you were living together, did she often bring men to the apartment?

  P: Yes.

  K: What do you mean by often?

  P: What do you mean?

  K: Did it happen several times a week?

  P: Oh, no, there had to be some moderation.

  K: How often did it happen? Answer!

  P: Don't use that tone of voice.

  K: I'll use any tone of voice I want to. How often did she bring men home to the apartment?

  P: Once or twice a month.

  K: Was it always different men?

  P: I don't know. I didn't always see them. As a matter of fact I usually didn't see them. At times she kept pretty much to herself. Often she had people there when I was out dancing or someplace.

  K: Didn't Miss McGraw go out with you?

  P: Never. I don't even know if she could dance.

  K: Can you give me the names of any of the men she went around with?

  P: There was a German student whom we met at the library. I introduced them. I remember his name was Milden-berger. Uli Milden-berger. She brought him home three or four times.

  K: During how long a period?

  P: A month, possibly five weeks. But he telephoned her every day, and between times they certainly met somewhere else. He lived here in Lincoln for several years but went back to Europe last spring.

  K: What did he look like?

  P: Handsome. Tall, blond and broad-shouldered.

  K: Did you have intimate relations with this Mildenberger?

  P: What the hell business is that of yours?

  K: How many different men do you think she brought home during the time you lived together?

  P: Oh, six or seven.

  K: Was Miss McGraw attracted to a certain type of man?

  P: In this instance she was perfectly normal. She wanted to have good looking guys. The kind that at least looked like men.

  K: What do you know about her trip?

  P: Only that she had been planning it for a long time. She wanted to take the boat over and then travel around Europe for a month and see as much as possible. Then she thought she might stay in one place for the rest of the time, in Paris or Rome or someplace. Why are you asking about all this anyway? The police over there shot the man that murdered her.

  K: That information was unfortunately incorrect. Due to a misunderstanding.

  P: May I finally go now? , I actually have work to do.

  K: How did you react when you learned what had happened to Miss McGraw?

  P: At first it was a real shock but I wasn't terribly surprised.

  K: Why not?

  P: And you ask that? After you know how she lived?

  K: That will be all now. Goodbye Miss Peterson.

  P: And you won't forget what you've promised?

  K: I haven't promised anything. You can shut off the tape recorder now, Jack."

  Martin Beck swung back in his chair, put his left hand to his mouth and bit on the knuckle of his index finger. Then he took the last remaining paper that he had received from Lincoln, Nebraska, and read through Kafka's explanation absentmindedly.

  'Roseanna Beatrice McGraw. Born, May 18, 1937 in Denver, Colorado. Father, small-scale farmer. The farm was about twenty miles from Denver. Education: college in Denver and three years at the University of Colorado. Both parents died in the fall of 1960. Inheritance, about $20,000, paid out in July, 1962. Miss McGraw has not left a will and as far as one knows has no heirs.

  'As far as the reliability of the witnesses: my impression was that in some way Mary Jane Peterson altered reality and that she held back certain details, obviously ones that might be disadvantageous to her. I have had a chance to check out Mulvaney's testimony on several points. The statement that R. McG. had only met one other man during the period from November 1962 to July 1963 seems to be correct. I got this from some kind of diary that I found in her apartment. The date was March 22 and the man's initials are U. M. (Uli Mildenberger?) She always made a note of her relationships in the same way, a sort of code with the date and the initials. I have not been able to find any untruths or direct lies in Mulvaney's story.

  'Regarding the witnesses: Mulvaney is about 6 feet 2 inches tall, quite strong, blue eyed and has dark blond hair. Seems straightforward but a little naive. Mary Jane Peterson is quite a girl, attractive, stylishly dressed, strikingly slender and well developed. Neither of them have a police record, other than the ridiculous story about the trouble in the girls' apartment in 1962.

  (signed)"

  Martin Beck put on his jacket and set the lock on the door. Then he went back to his desk. He spread Kafka's papers out in front of him and sat completely still with his elbows on the desk arid his forehead in his hands.

  14

  Martin Beck looked up from the records of the examinations when Melander opened the door to his office. This was something that didn't happen very often.

  'Karl-Ĺke Eriksson-Stolt," said Melander. "Do you remember him?"

  Martin Beck thought for a moment.

  'Do you mean the fireman on the Diana? Was that his name?"

  'He calls himself Eriksson now. Two and a half years ago he was called Eriksson-Stolt. That's when he was sentenced to a year in prison because he had seduced a girl who was not yet thirteen years old. Don't you remember? A tough, long-haired, fresh guy."

  'Yes, I think I remember. Are you sure it's the same fellow?"

  'I checked with the Seamen's Association. It's the same guy."

  'I don't remember very well how it happened. Didn't he live in Sundyberg?"

  'No, in Hagalund, with his mother. It happened one day when his mother was at work. He didn't go to work. He took the janitor's daughter home with him. She wasn't quite thirteen and it was later proven that she was a bit retarded. He managed to get her to drink alcohol, I think it was aquavit mixed with juice and when she was drunk enough, he slept with her."

  'Was it her parents who reported him?"

  'Yes, and I went out to get him. During the examination he tried to play tough and stated that he had thought that the girl was of age and that she wanted to. She really didn't look a day over eleven and even then she seemed young for her age. The doctor who examined her said that she may have gone through shock, but I don't know. In any case, Eriksson was sentenced to a year of hard labor."

  Martin Beck had a chill when he realized that this man had been on board the Diana at the same time as Roseanna.

  'Where is he now?" he asked.

  'On a Finnish freighter. It's called the Kalajoki. I'll find out where she is. Notice that I said she."

  The same minute that Melander closed the door behind him, Martin Beck picked up the telephone and called Ahlberg.

  'We've got to get hold of him," said Ahlberg. "Call me as soon as you have talked to the shipping line. I want him here, even if I have to swim after him myself. The other fireman has also shipped out on another boat, but I'll find out where soon. In addition, I ought to talk with the chief engineer again. He's left the sea and is n
ow working for Electrolux."

  They hung up. Martin Beck sat unoccupied for a few minutes while he wondered what he should do. Suddenly, he became nervous, left his office, and walked upstairs.

  Melander had just finished a telephone conversation when he entered the room. Kollberg wasn't there.

  'That boat, the Kalajoki. It's just leaving Holmsund. It's tied up at Söderhamn for the night. The shipping line has confirmed the fact that he's on board."

  Martin Beck returned to his office and called Ahlberg again.

  'I'll take one of my boys with me and drive up and get him," said Ahlberg. "I'll call you when we have got him."

  They were silent for a moment. Then Ahlberg said: "Do you think it was he?"

  'I don't know. It could be a possibility of course. I have only seen him once, and that was more than two years ago, just before he was sentenced. A pretty twisted type."

  Martin Beck spent the rest of the afternoon in his office. He wasn't in the mood to work but he managed to get a number of routine things done. He kept thinking about the Finnish freighter that was on its way to Söderhamn. And about Roseanna McGraw.

  When he went home he tried to work on his model ship but after a while he merely sat there with his elbows on the table and his hands clasped in front of him. He could hardly expect to hear anything from Ahlberg before the next morning and finally he went to bed. He slept fitfully and awakened at five o'clock in the morning.

  By the time the morning newspaper hit the floor with a thump he was already shaved and dressed. He had read through the sports pages by the time Ahlberg called.

  'We have him here now. He's playing hard-boiled. Not saying anything. I can't exactly say that I like him. By the way, I've spoken to the Prosecutor. He says that we need an expert examiner and that I should ask you to come down. I think it's necessary."

  Martin Beck looked at his wristwatch. By now he knew the time-table by heart.

  'Okay. I can make the seven-thirty train. See you. So long."

  He asked the taxi to drive past Kristineberg where he stopped for his file containing the examination records. At twenty-five minutes after seven he was sitting on the train.

  Karl-Ĺke Eriksson-Stolt was born in Katarina parish twenty-two years ago. His father died when he was six years old and the following year his mother had moved to Hagalund. He was an only child. His mother, who was a seamstress, had supported him until he had finished school. The only teacher who had remembered him said that he had been of average intelligence, noisy and insubordinate. After he left school, he had held several different jobs, mostly as a messenger boy or a construction worker. When he was eighteen years old he went to sea, first as an ordinary seaman and then as a fireman. The Seamen's Association had nothing particular to say about him. One year later he moved back to his mother's and let her support him for a year until the State took over that detail. A year and a half ago he was released from the penitentiary.

  Martin Beck had studied this record the day before but read through it carefully one more time. There was also a statement from the examining psychiatrist in the folder. It was rather short and mainly spoke about libido, lethargy and frigidity. In addition it stated that Karl-Ĺke Eriksson-Stolt had psychopathic tendencies and a strongly developed sex drive, a combination that could lead to abnormal expressions.

  Martin Beck went directly to the police station from the railroad station and knocked on Ahlberg's door at ten minutes to eleven. Superintendent Larsson was in Ahlberg's office. They looked tired and worried and seemed relieved to pass the ball to someone else. Neither of them had succeeded in getting a word out of Eriksson with the exception of a number of swear words.

  Ahlberg looked through the file quickly. When he closed it Martin Beck said: "Did you get hold of the other fireman?"

  'Yes, in a way. He's working on a German boat that is in the Hook of Holland right now. I telephoned Amsterdam this morning and spoke with the police superintendent there who knew & little German. You ought to hear my German. If I understood him correctly there is someone in the Hague who speaks Danish who could take care of the official examination. Now if he understood me correctly, we ought to hear something from there tomorrow."

  Ahlberg sent out for coffee and after Martin Beck had two cups, he said: "Okay. We might as well start now. Where shall we work?"

  'In the next room. There's a tape recorder and whatever else you need there."

  Eriksson looked just about the way Martin Beck had remembered him. About five feet, eleven inches tall, thin and gangly. A long, thin face with close-set blue eyes under long, curly eyelashes and straight, heavy eyebrows. A straight nose, a small mouth with thin lips and a weak chin. Long whiskers and a little dark mustache which Martin Beck could not remember having seen before. He had bad posture and was round-shouldered. He was dressed in a pair of old blue-jeans, a blue workshirt, black leather vest and black shoes with pointed toes.

  'Sit down," said Martin Beck and nodded toward a chair on the other side of the desk. "Cigarette?"

  Eriksson took the cigarette, lit it and sat down. He placed the cigarette in the corner of his mouth, slunk down in his chair and raised his right foot on his left knee. Then he put his thumbs inside his belt and tapped his left foot while he looked at the wall above Martin Beck's head.

  Martin Beck looked at him for a moment, turned on the tape recorder which was placed on a low table beside him, and began to read some of the papers in his file.

  'Eriksson, Karl-Ĺke. Born November 23, 1941. Seaman, currently employed on the Finnish freighter Kalajoki. Home address, Hagalund, Solna. Is that right?" Eriksson made a small motion with his head. "I asked you a question. Is that right? Is the information correct? Answer. Yes or no."

  E: Yes, damn it.

  B: When did you sign on the Kalajoki?

  E: Three or four weeks ago.

  B: What did you do before that?

  E: Nothing particular.

  B: Where did you do nothing particular?

  E: What?

  B: Where were you living before you signed on the Finnish boat?

  E: With a friend in Gothenburg.

  B: How long did you stay in Gothenburg?

  E: A few days. Maybe a week.

  B: And before that?

  E: At my old lady's, my mother's.

  B: Were you working then?

  E: No, I was sick.

  B: What was wrong with you?

  E: I was just sick. Felt bad and bad a fever.

  B: Where did you work before you were sick?

  E: On a boat.

  B: What was the name of the boat?

  E: The Diana.

  B: What kind of job did you have on the Diana?

  E: Fireman.

  B: How long were you on the Diana?

  E: The whole summer.

  B: From…?

  E: From the first of July until the middle of September. Then they lay off. They put the boat up, too. They only run in the summer. Back and forth with a bunch of corny tourists. Damn dull. I wanted to sign off the tub but my buddy wanted to stay on, and anyway, I needed the cash.

  After that strain on his oratorical powers, Eriksson seemed completely exhausted and sank even further down in his chair.

  B: What's your buddy's name? What was his job on the Diana?

  E: Fireman. There were three of us at the engine. Me, my buddy and the engineer.

  B: Did you know any of the other crew members?

  Eriksson bent forward and put out his cigarette in the ash tray. "What the hell kind of an examination is this," he said, i and threw himself back in his chair. "I haven't done any- j thing. Here I've gone and gotten a job and some damn cops come and…"

  B: You will answer my questions. Did you know any of the other crew members?

  E: Not when I started. I only knew my buddy then. But you get to meet the others later. There was a guy who worked on the deck that was kind of fun.

  B: Did you meet any girls on the trips?

&nb
sp; E: There was only one gal who was anything at all but she went around with the cook. The rest of them were old bags.

  B: The passengers then?

  E: We didn't see much of them. I really didn't meet any girls.

  B: Did you work in shifts, the three of you in the engine room?

  E: Yes.

  B: Do you remember if anything unusual happened at any time during the summer?

  E: No, what do you mean, unusual?

  B: If any one trip was different from the rest. Didn't the engine break down at some point?

  E: Yes, that's right. A steampipe broke. We had to go into Söderköping for repairs. It took a hell of a long time. But that wasn't my fault.

  B: Do you remember when it happened?

  E: Just after we'd passed Stegeborg.

  B: Yes, but which day did it happen?

  E: Who the hell knows. What kind of damn nonsense is this? It wasn't my fault that the engine broke down. Anyway,

  I wasn't working then. It wasn't my shift.

  B: But when you left Söderköping? Was it your shift then?

  E: Yes, and before that too. All three of us had to work like hell to get the barge going again. We worked all night and then we worked the next day, the engineer and I.

  B: What time did you go off the shift during the day?

  E: The day after Söderköping? Quite late in the afternoon, I think.

  B: Then what did you do when you were free?

  Eriksson looked emptily at Martin Beck and didn't answer.

  B: What did you do when you had finished working that day?

  E: Nothing.

  B: You must have done something? What did you do?

  (The same empty look.)

  B: Where was the boat when you were free?

  E: I don't know. At Roxen, I think.

  B: What did you do when you got off the shift?

  E: Nothing, I told you.

  B: You must have done something. Did you meet anyone?;

  Eriksson looked bored and stroked his neck.

  B: Think about it. What did you do?

  E: What a lot of garbage. What do you think anyone can do on that damned tub? Play football? The boat was right out in the middle of the water. Now listen, the only things'; you could do on that tub were eat and sleep.