Chapter 23 Chapter Twenty-Three

The black Plymouth has white fenders and two blue lights on the roof.As if that wasn't enough of an identification, even the car's hood, trunk, and sides read "Police," "Police," "Police," "Police" in oversized white letters. A B on the number plate means the car is registered outside Stockholm.At this moment, the car quickly crossed the city limits of Notur, left the main road and headed towards Usala, and more importantly, it drove away from the Solna police station. The patrol car is very new, equipped with all kinds of modern equipment, but the advanced technology has not improved the quality of the police officers, and the two patrol officers, Keller Christiansson and Curt Cavant, are no exception.These two giant blond men from Skåne have been patrolling for twelve years. Although they have made a few achievements, there are countless mishandled tasks.

At this moment, the troubles for the two are about to come. Christiansson was forced to arrest Fat Fart four minutes ago, and it wasn't about bad luck or impulsiveness, it was about being so blatantly provocative. It all started when Kavant parked his car at a newsstand in Greenfield Terminus.At that time, Kavant took out his wallet and borrowed ten crowns from Christiansson. Christiansson took the money and got out of the car. Kristiansund is always short of money because he spends it all on football.There are only two people in the world who know about his vices, and one is Kavant, because the companions in the patrol car depend on each other, and no secret can be kept.The other person is Kristiansson's wife, Xia Siting, who is also very good at gambling.In fact, the couple didn't even want to have sex. When they were together, they were just busy filling out the betting list, calculating extremely complicated probabilities, and asked the two children to help them sign and use those custom-made dice to assist in the calculation.

Christiansson bought Sporting News and two other specialty papers at newsstands, and bought a bar of licorice for Kavant.He took the change in his right hand and put it in his pocket, while holding the newspaper in his left hand, he turned and returned to the car while looking at the front page of the newspaper.When he was concentrating on thinking about whether the "Milling Wall Team" he bet on could successfully face the "Portsmouth Team" this time, he suddenly heard someone behind him speak. "You forgot that, officer." Christiansson felt something brush against his coat, and he instinctively reached out with his right hand, grabbing something icy and slippery.Christiansson was startled, and when he looked up, he saw "Fat Fart"'s big face.

Then he looked at what he was holding. Christiansson is on duty.He stood in a crowded public place, wearing a uniform with shiny buttons, shoulder straps, a pistol, and a baton in a white leather holster around his waist.He saw that he was holding a pickled pig's foot in his hand. "For you, I hope you like it. Eat it!" "Fat Fart" said loudly, and then laughed wildly. "Fatty," a tramp and peddler, deserved his nickname, for his ass was so outrageously large that his head and limbs appeared rather degenerate in comparison, and "Fatty" was less than five feet tall, that is, he Kristiansund and Kavant are a foot shorter.

However, the annoying thing about "Fat Butt" is not his big butt, but his outfit. "Fat Fart" wore two long coats, three suit jackets, four pairs of trousers, and five vests, with a total of fifty pockets. This person also likes to carry cash with him, all of which are copper coins with a face value of less than ten ohms . Christiansson and Kavant had arrested Fat Fart eleven times, but only brought him into the ring twice, the first two times, purely because of poor judgment and inexperience. When he was arrested for the first time, a total of 1,230 one-ohre coins, 2,780 two-ohre coins, 2,020 two-ohl coins were found in the forty-three pockets of "Fat Fart". Seven five ohms and one ten ohms.The search alone took them three hours and twenty minutes.Later, during the interrogation, "Fat Fart" was indeed fined ten crowns for insulting the law enforcement officers, and the pig nose he stuffed on the walkie-talkie of the patrol car was also confiscated by the government; to appear in court as a witness.

They were also very unlucky the second time. The sixty-two pockets of "Fat Fart" put more than three hundred and twenty crowns and ninety-three oles in the sixty-two pockets of "Fat Fart". It took seven hours to search the body. The idiot judge acquitted "Fat Fart" because your honor not only couldn't appreciate the beauty of the southern swedish dialect, but also couldn't hear the contempt in words like fubbickmagbor, gasapick and puggasole and humiliation.While Kavant took pains to explain what a "magbor" was, the judge gloated that Christiansund was the plaintiff in the case, not the patrol car, and insulted a Plymouth A car is simply out of the question, especially after comparing other modes of transportation.

"Fat Fart", like Kristiansson and Kavant, is from the southern plains of Sweden, and all three are well versed in diction. The pair were ultimately devastated when Kavant blurted out to refer to the defendant as a "fat fart" instead of his real name, "Carl Frederick Gustav Oskar Jansson-Kak."The judge made the decision and admonished Kavant not to use cryptic curses in open court. Now it's all over again. Christiansund looked around stealthily, but saw nothing but a few expectant and giggling crowds. At this time, "Fat Fart" pulled out another pig's foot from the inner bag.

"Come on, this was given to you by your cousin before he lost his hair." He said loudly, "His last wish is to give it to someone with a pig head like him. He is waiting for you in the pigsty in heaven. .” Christiansund looked for Kavant with puzzled blue eyes, but Kavant looked in the other direction, indicating that none of this was his business. "You're a good match for that hoof, Sergeant," said Fat Fart, "but you seem to be missing a pig's tail, and that's all right, we'll make it up for you." "Fat Fart" put his free hand into his pocket.

There were gloating faces everywhere, and someone in the corner shouted: "Go, go show that bastard." Seeing Christiansson hesitate, "Fat Fart" became anxious. "Damn you!" he scolded sharply, "Your mother owes you two balls!" The crowd clamored excitedly. Christiansson stretched out his pig's trotters, trying to catch "Fat Butt", but at the same time he was eager to take advantage of the situation and escape.He could already hear the clink of thousands of coins in Fat Fart's pocket. "He's got me in the ass," Fatty wailed, in a voice that was terribly affectated. "Bullying the common people, bullying the kind peddlers, I'm being treated like a donkey out of good intentions, let me go, you pig-like dog!"

When the battle was in full swing, Christiansson's hand was occupied by the pig's trotters, and he could not move at the right time, and "Fat Fart" took advantage of it. He opened the door of the police car and jumped into the back before Christiansson had time to use his weapon. seated. Kavant didn't even look back. "How could you be so stupid, Christiansund?" he said. "To be led so easily by him? It's all your fault." He starts the engine. "My God," Christiansson said weakly. "Where does he want to go?" Kavant asked angrily.

"Ninety-two Solna Street." Fat Fart squealed happily. "Fat Fart" is very smart, he asked two people to drive him to the Central Police Station in the jurisdiction, hoping that someone would count the coins for him. "We can't just throw him in the precinct," Kavant said. "It's too risky." "Take me to the police station," Fatty begged them. "Tell me on the walkie-talkie that we're coming and tell them to get the coffee ready. I'll have a drink when you start counting the money." He shook Lean your body to emphasize what you just said. A pile of copper coins hidden under the clothes really made a mess. Searching Fat Fart would go to the guy who was dumb enough to bring him back to the Bureau.This is the tacit iron law of everyone. "Ask him where he wants to go," Kavant said. "You don't ask yourself," Christiansson said angrily. "I didn't bring him into the car." Kavant pushed back. "I didn't see him until he got in the car." Kavant's housekeeping skill is to turn a blind eye and listen but not hear. Kristiansson knew there was only one way to get rid of "fat farts".He rattled the change in his pocket. "How many?" "Fat Fart" asked greedily. Christiansson took out his change and looked at it. "At least six hundred and fifty ohms." "This is obviously a bribe." "Fat Fart" complained. Bribery is really hard to define. If "fat farts" gave them money today, they would be bribing public servants, but the situation at this time is exactly the opposite. "Anyway, six hundred and five is not enough, I need money to buy wine." Kavant took out his wallet and took out another bill. "Fat fart" grabbed it. "Take me to the liquor store," he said. "Leave Solna first." Caget said, "Damn, that's too risky." "Then take me to Stewart Street. The people there know me, and there are people I know near the toilet in Vassar Park." "Please, we can't let him get off the car at the hotel entrance." Christiansson said nervously. They passed the post office south and continued on Dara Street. "I'll turn into the park from here," Kavant said, "and drop him off halfway." "Hey, you haven't given me the money for the pig's feet yet." "Fat Fart" said. They didn't bother to fix him, considering the size of the two of them, it was too ineffective to do that, and they didn't have the habit of beating people, at least they didn't beat people indiscriminately. More importantly, none of them are particularly passionate police officers.Kavant has always only reported what he has seen and heard, and his greatest skill is to pretend to be deaf and blind; Christiansson is a complete slob, and all troubles can be avoided. Kavant turned along the Eastman Dental Center into the park, where the woods were bare and it looked empty and deserted.As soon as Kavant turned the corner, he stopped the car. "Get off here, Christiansson. I'll drive a little farther and let him get off quietly. If you see something wrong, just blow the whistle as usual." The smell in the car was very bad, filled with foot odor and residual vomiting, but what was more pungent at this time was the body odor and alcohol smell from "Fat Fart". Christiansson nodded and got out of the car, leaving the newspaper in the back seat, still holding the pig's foot in his right hand. The police car disappeared behind him.He came out into the street, and it looked all right, but he still felt a little uneasy.Christiansson waited impatiently for Kavant to drive back so that the two could safely return to their jurisdiction.Although he had to listen to Kavant scolding his wife for being out of shape and having a hot temper every time he was on duty, he was used to it.Kristiansson likes his wife very much, especially the two are equally fond of playing football, but he rarely mentions her. Kavant seemed too slow, maybe he didn't want to be seen, or Fat Fart just raised the price again. On the steps in front of the Eastman Dental Center there is a platform with a round stone fountain in the middle, and on the other side of the fountain is a black Volkswagen parked in such an unruly way that even Christian Loosen's claws_the lazy police Can't see it. He didn't really want to do anything, but time dragged on, so Kristiansund started to circle the circular fountain slowly. At least he could pretend to check the car. Stop like this.Just walking over and looking at a parked car doesn't mean you have to do anything. The fountain was about twelve yards in diameter, and as Christiansson walked to the other side he felt the sun glint in one of the windows of the building across the road. Immediately afterwards he heard a sharp explosion, and at the same time his right knee seemed to have been hit by a hammer, and the leg seemed to disappear.Christiansson staggered a few steps, climbed over the railing, fell backwards, and fell into the pool of the fountain.At this time of year, the fountain pool is always covered with dead leaves and garbage. Christiansson lay on his back listening to himself scream. He didn't know how many more shots were fired, but they were obviously not aimed at him. Kristiansson held the pig's foot in his hand, not knowing that the explosion he heard just now was the sound of a gunshot, or that the bullet had shattered the bones under his knee.