Chapter 8 chapter eight

Lehn went to the car and sat in the driver's seat to wait for Martin Baker, who was responsible for informing Mrs. Nieman of the sad news. "What did you tell her?" Lehn asked as Martin Baker sat down beside him. "Only that he died. It seems that Nieman was very ill, so she didn't seem too surprised, but now she must be wondering what her husband's death has to do with the police." "How does her voice sound? Shocked?" "Yes, of course. She wanted to take a taxi directly to the hospital, and now the doctor is talking to her. I hope the doctor can persuade her to stay at home."

"Yeah, if she sees Nieman, she will be scared to death. Just talking about it is already scary." Lehn drove north on Dara Street toward Odin Road.Lehn nodded to a black Volkswagen parked outside the Eastman Dental Center. "This car is really real. It's not enough to park in the non-parking area, and it's even leaning on the sidewalk. Fortunately, we are not from the Ministry of Culture and Communications. We count this guy as shit luck." "Maybe the guy was drunk and parked like that," Martin Baker said. "Maybe it's a girl," Lehn said. "It must have been a woman who parked it, a woman who drove—"

"You're so prejudiced against women," said Martin Baker. "If my daughter heard that, she'd give you a scolding." The car turned right from Odin Road and drove past Gustav Church and Odin Square.There are two taxis with "Empty" lights on at the taxi rank, and a yellow cleaning van is flashing orange at the traffic lights outside the City Library, waiting for the signal to turn green. Martin Baker and Lehn continued on in silence. They turned to Seaville Road, slowly circled the cleaning truck at the corner, and turned left next to the School of Economics onto King's Envoy Street.

"Damn it," said Martin Baker suddenly. "Yeah," Lean said. There was another silence in the car.When they drove across Earl Jarl Road, Le En slowed down and began to look for the house number.The door of an apartment across from the Civic School was open. A young man stuck his head out to look at them. The two parked their cars and crossed the road. The young man opened the door. When the two arrived at the door, they realized that the boy was younger than he looked from a distance.The boy was nearly as tall as Martin Baker, but looked no older than fifteen. "My name is Stefan," he said, "and my mother is waiting upstairs."

The two followed the boy to the second floor, and saw Youwen's door was slightly open.The boy led them down the corridor into the living room. "I'm going to get my mom over," he whispered, before disappearing down the corridor. Still standing in the middle of the room, Martin Baker and Lehn look around. The living room is very tidy, with a set of furniture from the 1940s, including a sofa and three lacquered wooden easy chairs with floral upholstery. , and an oval table of the same wood.The table was covered with a white lace tablecloth, and in the center of the tablecloth was a large crystal vase with bright red tulips inserted in it.White lace curtains hung from the two windows facing the street, behind which were rows of well-tended potted plants.On the wall at the end of the room was a large glossy mahogany bookshelf, half of which was filled with leather books, the other half was filled with various souvenirs and knick-knacks, and around the walls were small boxes of silver and crystal. table.Finally, there is a black piano covered with a lid and rows of framed family photos.Several still life and landscape paintings framed in gold-orange color frames are hung on the surrounding walls.There was a crystal chandelier in the center of the house, and the two of them stepped on a wine-red oriental carpet.

Martin Baker jotted down the details of the room and listened to footsteps in the corridor.Le En walked to the bookshelf and was looking at a brass deer bell.One side of the bell is decorated with brightly colored birch trees, reindeer and Lappish people, and Finnish is written in red decorative letters. Mrs. Nieman walked into the living room with her son. She was wearing a black sweater, black shoes and black socks, and she was holding a small white handkerchief tightly in her hand. She must have been crying just now. Baker and Lehn introduced themselves to her, but she didn't seem to be listening.

"Please sit down." After speaking, she also sat down on the floral cushion chair. After the two police officers sat down, Mrs. Nieman looked at them with despairing eyes. "What happened?" she asked in a thin voice. Le En took out his handkerchief and carefully and slowly wiped the cold sweat off his nose.Martin Baker didn't dare to count on this guy to help him. "Mrs. Nieman, if you have anything to calm your nerves—I mean pills or something—I think you'd better take a pill or two first," said Martin Baker. The boy sitting on the piano chair immediately stood up.

"Dad has—there's a sedative in the bathroom cabinet," he said. "Shall I get it?" Martin Baker nodded.The boy went to the bathroom to fetch pills and water, and Martin Baker looked at the label, poured two pills into the bottle cap, and handed them to Mrs. Nieman, who obediently swallowed them with the water. "Thank you," she said, "now please tell me what you want to know. The Stigs are gone, and there's really no point in doing anything else." She pressed her handkerchief to her mouth so her voice was muffled. "Why didn't you let me see him? He is my husband after all, what did the hospital do to him? That doctor... His tone is very strange..."

Nieman's son walked over and sat on the arm of his mother's chair, putting his arm around her shoulders. Martin Baker turned his chair around to face Mrs. Nieman directly, then glanced at Lehn, who was sitting quietly on the sofa. "Mrs. Nieman," he said, "your husband didn't die of illness. Someone broke into the hospital room and killed him." The woman glared at him.Martin Baker saw in her eyes that it took several seconds for her to understand what he said.She lowered her hand and held her handkerchief to her chest, her face was frighteningly pale. "Killed? Someone killed him? I don't understand..."

His son's complexion was not much better, and he hugged his mother's hand even tighter. "Who did it?" she asked. "I don't know yet. Just after two o'clock, the nurse found him lying on the floor of the room. Someone slipped in through the window and killed him with a bayonet. The whole process took less than a few seconds. I don't think he figured out what happened. Killed." Martin Baker said reassuringly. "According to all indications, he was attacked suddenly." Lehn said, "If he had time to react, he would have defended himself or struggled, but there was no sign of resistance at the scene."

The woman looked at Le En now. "But why is that so?" she asked. "We don't know either," Lehn said. That's all he said. "Mrs. Nieman, maybe you can help us find the real culprit," Martin Baker said. "We don't want to cause you unnecessary pain, but there are a few questions we have to ask. First, who do you think it might be?" Did you do it?" The woman shook her head in despair. "Has your husband been threatened in any way? Or has someone had a motive to kill him? Has anyone threatened him?" She continued shaking her head. "No," said Mrs. Nieman, "how could anyone threaten him?" "Does anybody hate him?" "How could anyone hate him?" "Please think about it," said Martin Baker, "does anyone think your husband killed him? After all, he's a police officer, and it's an easy job to make enemies. Did he mention that someone tried to kill him when he got out of jail?" Or threatened him?" Mrs. Nieman looked at her son in bewilderment at first, then at Lehn, then back at Martin Baker. "I don't remember it happening. If Stig did, I would." "Dad doesn't talk much about his job," Stefan said. "You'd better ask the police." "We'll ask, too," said Martin Baker, "how long has Mr. Nieman been ill?" "It's been a long time, I can't remember how long," said the boy, and looked at his mother. "Beginning in June last year," she said, "before Midsummer, he had a terrible stomachache and went to the doctor as soon as the holidays were over. The doctor thought it was an ulcer and asked him to take sick leave, and he has been on sick leave since then. He's been to several doctors, each with a different story and different prescriptions. He went to Sabasberry three weeks ago and they've been doing checks and tests for him, but they still can't figure out what's causing it .” Talking seemed to help her distract and suppress her shock. "Daddy thought he had cancer," the boy said, "but the doctors said no, but he's been very sick." "What has he been doing all this time? Has he been out of work since last summer?" "Yeah," said Mrs. Nieman. "He was really sick. He was in pain for days. He had to lie in bed. He took a lot of medicine, but it didn't help much. He was back in the bureau last fall." Several times, saying he was going to see the situation in the bureau, but he couldn’t work.” "Mrs. Nieman, do you think about it, did he say or do anything related to his death today?" Martin Baker asked. She shook her head and began to cry, staring blankly ahead. "Do you have siblings?" Lehn asked the boy. "Yes, I have a sister, but she is married and lives in Malmö." Le En glanced at Martin Baker inquiringly.Martin Baker rolled his cigarette thoughtfully back and forth with his fingers as he looked at the two men in front of him. "Let's go then," he said to the boy. "I'm sure you'll take care of your mother, but I think you'd better get a doctor to come and give her some medicine to put her to sleep. Would you please To the doctor?" The boy stood up and nodded. "Dr. Blomberry," he said, "he comes over when anyone in my family is sick." The boy went to the corridor, and the two heard him dial the phone. After a while, someone seemed to answer the phone.The boy came back and stood beside his mother after saying a few words.He looked more grown-up now than he had just been at the door. "The doctor will be here in a while." The boy said, "You two don't have to wait, he will be here soon." The two stood up, and Lehn walked over and put his hand on the woman's shoulder. Mrs. Nieman did not move, and she did not respond when they said goodbye to her. The boy walks them to the door. "Maybe we'll come back again," Martin Baker said. "We'll call first to see how your mother is doing." When they reached the street, Martin Baker turned to Lehn and asked: "You should know Neiman, right?" "Not very familiar." Le En replied prevaricately.