Master, Liar, Traitor, Friend: a Leo Junker case

by Christoffer Carlsson (Translated by Michael Gallagher)

MAN: No disagreements from me there.

  CHARLES: Right. [Silence] You want us to take on Leo Junker.

  MAN: That’s right. The reason being [Short crackling, scraping] and I trust that our conversation will not leave this room.

  PAUL: Whatever is said here, stays here.

  CHARLES: Okay.

  MAN: Good. I’ve received orders from above — and when I say that, I think you know what I mean — to take steps to deal with the situation at Internal Affairs. For starters, it was against that backdrop that the board decided that you were a suitable candidate for the leadership, and I was clear about that at the time. Wasn’t I?

  CHARLES: Yes, you were.

  MAN: Well, since we have intensified our work with informants and infiltrators, the risks — the risks to us, I mean — have also increased. We —

  CHARLES: That is, excuse me interrupting, but that’s where my first question comes in. You mentioned it last time, too. I would just like some clarification from you, about exactly what that means, that the risks to us have increased.

  [Silence]

  PAUL: [Clears throat]

  CHARLES: If you can, that is.

  MAN: Of course, of course. I just want to articulate this in a way that is sufficiently clear without being misleading. But it is self-evident really. A leadership that approves of police activities that are perched right on the boundaries of what the law allows — on the boundaries, admittedly, but those boundaries are very, very fuzzy in practice — is a leadership that is politically sensitive. We are putting our own positions and reputations at stake if something were to happen. All of us, not least you, would be in a difficult position.

  CHARLES: I am, as I have said before, acutely aware of my own position.

  MAN: Nevertheless, we cannot possibly achieve the demands made of us in terms of organised crime if we do not work this way. Our increased resources need to bring results. There may be a wiser, safer, more effective, whatever, method for achieving the results we’re getting from our informants and infiltrators, but right now I can’t see it.

  CHARLES: Which also says something about the unreasonable nature of the political demands.

  MAN: What can we do about them? Nothing. We are civil servants. Bureaucrats. That’s all we are. And, given these conditions, this is the only solution.

  CHARLES: And this solution … That’s where I require my second clarification from you. As I understand it, and you’ll have to excuse me if I express this rather bluntly, but the impression I got from our last conversation was that you wanted to deploy a fall guy? Someone to take the blame if any of the operations or raids were to go wrong.

  MAN: It is [Silence] a rather blunt way of putting it. But, and this is important, Levin, I want to underline the fact that neither I nor anyone else in the leadership seriously believe it will ever come to that. This is clearly anything but a standard solution to possible complications.

  CHARLES: In the memo, it said ‘in the event that one of our operations should be compromised’. That is pretty vague, to say the least.

  MAN: And that is a very unfortunate choice of words, because it is not actually true. It ought to have read ‘in the event that one of our operations turns into a complete disaster’. And, do not forget that we run, what, one, max two, high-risk operations per year? Since your organisation is now always involved in all operations against this kind of criminality, it is appropriate for the person concerned to be connected to you.

  CHARLES: But if something were to go wrong, and we were forced to use this scapegoat, it would emerge that he was with us. That undermines the whole unit’s credibility.

  MAN: We start with the assumption that all attention will be focused on the individual concerned, not the unit he belongs to. Which, of course, is precisely the point. In the event, we will have to make sure that the debate and the spotlight are pointing in the right direction. In other words, crisis management and PR.

  CHARLES: That is not terribly reassuring.

  MAN: No, I know. And at the end of the day, Levin, we’re all up against it. No one wants to be standing closest to the flames if things start burning, because they don’t want to catch fire themselves, but some part of the organisation will have to. This is the solution we have, and the man we have proposed will be perfect for the purpose.

  CHARLES: The purpose that also risks ruining his life altogether.

  PAUL: May I ask, [Short crackle] excuse me butting in but —

  MAN: No problem at all.

  PAUL: Thank you. Why don’t you just take any old crook?

  MAN: Too untrustworthy. It would never work.

  PAUL: Well, what about one of the informants or infiltrators?

  MAN: They — and I do realise that this might sound bad — are too important.

  PAUL: I see. [Silence] Leo Junker, was that his name?

  MAN: Yes.

  PAUL: What is it that makes him so suitable?

  MAN: He’s worked closely with Levin for years, at the Violent Crime Unit. That means he trusts you, Levin. Trust is probably the most important factor here. He needs to be convinced that you have his best interests at heart. Not only that, but your relationship makes it very likely that he will agree to the transfer from the Violent Crime Unit. And he’s young, too, just over thirty. He has, to put it mildly, a troubled past, including personal tragedies. As far as I can see, he is a good detective, but he isn’t altogether stable. If, once again, Levin, if we, against all the odds, were forced to deploy such a drastic strategy, he is an ideal person for the purpose.

  [Silence]

  PAUL: I must say, he sounds like a very good candidate.

  CHARLES: But how is this supposed to work in practice? That’s what I don’t understand. The whole thing is built upon the idea that not only is Leo going to be present on the operation in question, but also involved in it going wrong, which is also a bit of a leap. Leo is, for all his flaws, a very competent officer. Let’s say that the operation goes wrong, but then Junker is completely innocent of any wrongdoing. How can he be the fall guy then?

  MAN: That side of things can always be dealt with, Levin. You know that.

  CHARLES: But if I’m going to launch this thing, I obviously need to know what steps I should take if it comes to it.

  MAN: You have, naturally, several alternatives. One, you persuade him to take the flak to protect the unit and, by extension, the force as a whole. It is not inconceivable that he —

  CHARLES: In Leo’s case, that is an absolutely absurd idea. He would never agree to it. Believe me.

  MAN: The second choice, would, of course, be to smear him, present him in an unflattering light. In other words, despite him not being a scapegoat in the strict sense of the word, we would make him one.

  CHARLES: That would require some monumental lies from us. And when Leo can prove that he has nothing to do with whatever has happened, what happens then?

  MAN: This is getting extremely hypothetical, Levin. You can’t talk about things in concrete terms when these are merely possibilities, conceivable scenarios. However, if such a situation was to present itself then we would present evidence to the contrary. Exactly what kind of evidence depends, of course, on the actual events. We have done this sort of thing before, when it came down to it. The operation in Danderyd in 2010, for example, the raid in Gothenburg in 2002, or the one in Råcksta in 2004.

  CHARLES: The officer in the Gothenburg case killed himself six months later. The one who carried the can after the mess in Råcksta is now living on benefits.

  MAN: These are the directives under which we operate. These, therefore, are the solutions available. Like it or lump it. If you’ll excuse my directness.

  CHARLES: That brings me to my final, most important question. You have made your position quite clear. What I want to know is, what happens if I refuse to follow it?

 
[Silence]

  MAN: Isn’t that where you come in?

  PAUL: I’m afraid it is.

  CHARLES: I can’t say I’m surprised.

  PAUL: Your background is messy, to say the least. As is mine and — [Laughter] well, everyone else’s — those of us who are still around. You know what I’ve got on you. And, since everything blew up in 1986, so does our dear superior here, or at least some of it. Not everything, but quite a lot.

  MAN: I should add that I have no desire to find out any more. The more you know about those years, the worse your headache. That was what Holmér was always saying.

  PAUL: And quite right he was, too. You know what you’ve got to lose, Charlie.

  CHARLES: If I lose, you’ll be dragged in, too, no two ways about it.

  PAUL: And not just me, large parts of our operation and our organisation would be closely scrutinised. Once again, just like 1986. That is precisely why I am so keen to sort this out to everyone’s satisfaction. And …

  [Silence]

  CHARLES: What?

  PAUL: Could you pop out for a second?

  MAN: Me?

  PAUL: Yes.

  MAN: From my own room?

  PAUL: You did just say you didn’t want to find out any more.

  MAN: I see. Yes. I’ll nip to the gents. [Footsteps, a door opening then closing]

  PAUL: Funny chap, that one. Isn’t he?

  CHARLES: I was just thinking the same thing.

  PAUL: What kind of person frames their law-degree certificate? And then hangs it up on the wall?

  CHARLES: Not the kind of person who ought to be in a leadership position.

  PAUL: [Laughter] Touché. Like some kind of [Crackling] trophy.

  CHARLES: What’s this about, Paul? What is it you want?

  PAUL: Well, Charlie, it’s like this. I’m guessing you get it already, but I want to be absolutely sure that you understand the consequences for you if you fail to go along with his, and the rest of the leadership’s line. If you don’t, and they are forced to … If your background has to be revealed. They wouldn’t be able to leave Marika out of it. She’s there, right at the back with all the rest of it. I know that you want to protect her, and I, all of us in fact, would of course do whatever we could, but … it wouldn’t work. [Long silence] Do you understand?

  CHARLES: Yes.

  [Crackling, rustling. Levin stands up. Footsteps]

  PAUL: Charlie, what —

  [Loud thud]

  PAUL: [Groans]

  [Silence]

  PAUL: I guess I deserve —

  CHARLES: Don’t make it sound like you care about her. You’ve never cared about anyone other than yourself.

  [Silence]

  CHARLES: I just don’t understand how you [Footsteps, rustling, crackling. Levin sits down again?] You’re putting so much on the line, Paul. Everything from the Lichter case onwards.

  PAUL: I don’t have as much at stake as you. And you know as well as I do that the one with the most to lose is always the one to back down.

  [Long silence]

  CHARLES: I have started [Inaudible, too quiet] her everything.

  PAUL: What? Marika?

  CHARLES: I tell her a bit every week, when I visit.

  [Scraping, movement. Paul stands up? A few footsteps]

  PAUL: Why? Why are you doing that?

  CHARLES: Partly because she’s all I’ve got left. Because even if she doesn’t register a word I say, she still deserves to know the background to all this. But, above all, perhaps, because I’m selfish. Because it all gets a tiny, tiny bit easier to bear if you say it out loud.

  PAUL: How do you know she’s not taking in what you’re saying?

  CHARLES: You’ve met her once, haven’t you? Since … since she ended up in there.

  PAUL: Yes.

  CHARLES: Well, then you know, too.

  PAUL: But still … she … she was there.

  CHARLES: Even if she did understand what I was saying, even if she did decide to start telling people, who would believe a mentally ill woman locked up for attempted murder?

  [Long silence]

  PAUL: So I take it we’re agreed then? On the matter in hand, I mean.

  CHARLES: Yes.

  PAUL: Good.

  [Another long silence]

  CHARLES: Sooner or later, this will catch up with you.

  PAUL: That day —

  [Knock at the door]

  PAUL: Yes?

  MAN: [Muffled] Have the gentlemen finished?

  [Short silence]

  PAUL: Yes.

  [Door opens and closes, footsteps]

  PAUL: And I think we’re agreed.

  CHARLES: I’ll get in touch with Leo tomorrow.

  MAN: Excellent. Paul, what the hell happened?

  PAUL: What are you talking about?

  MAN: Your cheek is all red.

  PAUL: Oh, that. It’s … eczema. I get it sometimes.

  [The man says goodbye. The door opens and closes again. They seem to go in different directions. Levin, now alone, stops. A click and a beep. A buzzing noise followed by an electronic voice: ‘Seventh Floor.’ Levin enters the lift. The doors close. Loud crackling and rustling]

  CHARLES: Twentieth of August 2012.

  [Clip ends]

  The voices fall silent.

  ‘You haven’t got a cigarette have you?’ Leo says. ‘Mine are in the back.’

  Tove gives him one from her packet, and he looks at Kit, who’s lying between her feet, asleep, before carefully opening the door and lighting the cigarette. For the first time, Tove notices that he’s not using his left arm. It’s lying there, limp and still, next to his torso, with the palm resting on his thigh.

  He looks over at Tove’s hands, her nails, the dried blood.

  ‘Is that mine?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Maybe you should wash your hands?’

  ‘I’m going to.’

  He smokes the cigarette. The filter is speckled with blood.

  ‘I have some questions,’ she says.

  ‘Me, too.’

  ‘Did you know about this?’

  ‘What?’

  ‘The reason you ended up with Internal Affairs? You seem remarkably composed, given that you’ve just found out you were betrayed.’

  ‘Levin had hinted that there was something bigger behind me being on Gotland, but not that it was connected to me ending up in the unit in the first place. I … I didn’t realise I was such a big deal.’ He blinks. ‘I think maybe I’m a bit shocked. It’s a lot to take in.’

  ‘Levin obeyed them, anyway.’

  ‘Partly, at least.’

  ‘What does that mean?’

  ‘Internal Affairs served as an alibi for other departments. Officially, the post that Levin gave me was purely administrative, but, unofficially, my role was to investigate the unit itself, from the inside. Then, where possible, to close down flawed internal investigations. So I truly was a rat.’ As he speaks, he carefully turns his head, testing out his neck. ‘That might have been the only resistance I could manage.’

  ‘The other man is named as Paul,’ Tove says. ‘But the third voice?’

  ‘I think I know who that is. It’s not the director of the National Police Authority, but it is someone very close to him. Or rather was. His name is Einar Wallensten, and he died from prostate cancer about a year ago. I think Levin went to his funeral.’

  ‘Bit ironic.’

  ‘The other one’s, Paul’s, surname is Goffman. He works at SEPO, counter-subversion.’

  ‘SEPO. Whaddya know.’

  ‘For what it’s worth, they’re probably investigating Levin’s death, too, but up in Stockholm. That’d be my guess anyway — I can’t imagine they wou
ldn’t be.’

  ‘I haven’t heard anything about them being involved.’

  ‘Exactly,’ says Leo, as if that proved his assumption.

  ‘Do you know Goffman?’

  ‘Not really.’

  Leo has smoked his cigarette right down to the filter. As he throws it onto the gravel, he looks disappointed that the fun is already over.

  ‘Did you know that he and Levin knew each other? Judging by their conversation, they had a long history.’

  ‘I know that they knew of each other. But that they’d had such … No. And that case, what was it he mentioned at the end there?’

  Tove pulls the transcript from her bag, flips through to the right page.

  ‘The Lichter case.’

  ‘That rings a bell, but I just can’t place it.’

  ‘Same here. It does sound familiar.’

  He blinks. His eyes are bloodshot, tired.

  Tove pulls out her phone and types Lichter case into the browser’s search bar. The first hit is an article from Svenska Dagbladet, published just a few days earlier. It’s about the still unsolved murder of Catrine da Costa, and points out that, this summer, it will be thirty years since someone took her life. Alongside the article is a list of famous killings where the victims had been dismembered.

  ‘One of them is the murder of Ted Lichter,’ she says. ‘It doesn’t say much about him, if it’s even the same Lichter. An addict, from here, who was butchered by a fellow junkie in spring 1980.’

  ‘Hmm,’ Leo says, and furrows his brow.

  ‘What?’

  ‘I’m too close.’ His voice sinks to a whisper. ‘Everything looks blurred up close. I can’t … see what I can normally see.’

  He remembers something, pulls his phone out from his jacket pocket, and starts looking through his contacts, then puts the phone to his ear.

  ‘Hello,’ Leo says. ‘Did I wake you up? Okay, sorry. Shall I call back later or … Okay. I was just thinking, if you’ve already been there, but in case you haven’t … No, I understand. Give me a ring when you’ve … Good … No, I … No, it’s nothing — think I’ve just picked up a bit of a cold overnight. When you do speak to her, ask what she and Levin used to talk about when he was there. Okay, yes, bye.’

  He hangs up.