Chapter 24 Chapter Twenty-Four

Larson was looking at his watch when he heard the second shot, which was followed by at least four more shots. His watch, like most watches in Sweden, pointed to standard time, which was fifteen degrees east longitude or one zone east of Greenwich.Since his watch is so accurate that the time difference does not exceed one second a year, Larson sees the time very accurately. The first shot was fired at ten past twelve, and the next four or five rounds were fired within two seconds, that is, between the fourth and sixth seconds after ten past twelve. Larsson and Kohlberg instinctively and correctly estimated the direction and distance, and the two joined forces to quickly move in the next two minutes.

They jumped into the nearest car, which happened to be Larson's red BMW. Larson turned on the ignition and sped away—the opposite direction from the direction it had come around Central Hospital, past the old gasworks, and down the winding path toward the maternity ward and Eastman Dental Center. Dara Street between.Then Larson made a 180-degree turn and drove to the left, came to the stone plaza in front of Eastman Dental Clinic, stopped the car suddenly, and the car slid to a stop between the fountain and the wide stone steps leading to the hospital. . Before the two had time to open the door and get out of the car, they saw a uniformed police officer lying in a pool of branches. They could see that the police officer was injured but still alive. There were several people beside him, three injured. Wounded and lying on the ground, either dead or running for cover, the others stood still, probably in the same positions they had when the shots were fired.A patrol car had just pulled up outside Vassar Park. There was a patrolman in the car. Before he even stopped the car, he went to open the door on the left front.

Larson and Kohlberg got out of the car, one on the left and one on the right. Larson didn't hear the next shot, but he saw his hat fly off his head and onto the steps, and he suddenly felt as if someone had taken a hot poker along his right temple, from the hairline to his ear. superior.Before Larson could straighten himself up, he turned his head to the side and heard gunfire and a sharp whistle, and something cracked and popped.Larson jumped over eight steps in two big strides, and hid close to the stone wall and three large rectangular pillars on the left side of the entrance.He touched his cheek and found that his hand was covered with blood.The bullet had left a gash in his scalp that was oozing blood and ruined his sheepskin jacket.

Corberg, as quick as Larson, ducked back into the car and flopped into the backseat.Suddenly, two bullets shot through the roof of the car and into the front seat. Kollberg saw Larson pressed against the entrance wall, obviously shot, and knew he had to get out of the car and run to the front seat. on the steps.Without thinking, he kicked open the right front door while dashing out the left rear seat, whoosh, whoosh, three bullets aimed at the right side of the car, but Kohlberg had already escaped from the left, grabbing the iron railing , leaped over eight steps without touching his feet, and then bumped into Larson.

Kohlberg took a deep breath and struggled to stand up, clinging to the wall beside Larson.Larson was probably startled or out of breath, making strange grunting noises. There was a pause in the fight for a few seconds, maybe five to ten seconds, and there was an apparent truce. The wounded officer was still lying in the fountain, and his companion was standing next to the patrol car, holding the gun in his right hand, looking around in bewilderment.Maybe he didn't see Kohlberg and Larson, maybe he really didn't know what was going on, but he did see his wounded companion twenty-five feet away, and he looked Confusion walks over to his companion with a gun in hand.

"What are those two idiots doing there?" Larson asked in a low voice. Then someone shouted: "Kavant! Don't come here! Take cover!" Where is the cover?Kohlberg wondered.There's nowhere to hide over there. Larson obviously understood this, too, for he didn't follow suit.For the time being, nothing happened, but the blond patrolman stood up straight, looked in the direction of the entrance, and began to walk this way, obviously because he couldn't see the two people hiding in the dark clearly. A red double-decker bus was driving south from Dara Street, and someone was yelling for help hysterically.

The patrolman walked to the fountain, stepped into the pool with one leg, and leaned over to see his wounded companion. There is a small ledge on the edge of the pool for children to sit and soak their feet in summer.The policeman's leather jacket gleamed in the sun, and he put his gun on the ledge, hands free, his broad back to the sky.Two rifle rounds hit him with less than a second between them, the first at the nape of the neck and the other directly into the shoulder blade. Kavant fell out and landed on his companion without making a sound.Christiansson watched the first bullet pass through Kavant's Adam's apple and collarbone, and then felt Kavant's whole body pressed against his buttocks. Christiansson, who had lost too much blood, passed out in shock.The two partners lay in the shape of a cross in the pool, one unconscious and the other dead.

"Damn it," Larson said, "fuck it!" Kohlberg has a strong sense of unreality. He had always had a premonition that something would happen, and now something happened, but everything seemed to happen in another dimension. Then things started to crop up again, and someone wandered into this small square paved with flagstones. It was a little boy wearing a dark green jacket, blue jeans, and green rubber shoes with reflective tape.The blond-haired boy seemed to be no more than five years old, and he walked slowly towards the fountain hesitantly. Kolberg shuddered, ready to rush out and pick up the boy.Larson also noticed, but he stared at the horrific scene ahead without raising his eyes, while covering Kohlberg's chest with his big blood-stained hand.

"Wait a minute," he said. The boy stood by the pool and looked at the bodies of the two, then put his left thumb to his mouth, put his right hand over his left ear, and began to cry. The boy stood there crying for a while, tears rolling down Yuanyuan's face.He tilted his head, ran suddenly in the direction he had come, crossed the sidewalk and the avenue, left the square, and returned to the world of the living. No one shot at him. Larson looked at his watch. Twelve twelve minutes twenty-seven seconds. "Two minutes and twenty-seven seconds," he said to himself.

Two minutes and twenty-seven seconds is not a long time, Kolberg thought, but it is of great significance under special circumstances.This association is a bit strange.A good sprinter can theoretically run 14 times of 100 meters in this period of time, which is quite a feat. Two patrolmen were shot, one was definitely dead, and the other was probably dead as well. Larson was just a hair away from seeing Hades, and Kohlberg was two. Then there was the little boy in the dark green jacket. That's exaggerated too. Kohlberg looked at his watch.It points to twenty cents. Kohlberg is perfectionist in some ways and sloppy in others.

Then again, it was a Russian-made watch, he bought it for sixty-three crowns, and it was still working after more than three years.It's even on time if you wind it up nicely. But Larson's watch cost fifteen hundred crowns. Kohlberg looked up his hand, then put it over his mouth. "Hey! Hey!" He yelled, "Can anyone hear me? It's dangerous here, find a place to cover!" He took a deep breath and spoke again: "Attention! We are the police, this place is dangerous, please Find a place to cover!" Larson turned to look at Kohlberg with a strange look in his blue eyes. Then Larson looked at the doors to the hospital. They were usually locked and closed on Saturdays, and there was no one in the building.He walked towards the door and kicked the door open with tremendous divine power. It was unbelievable, but Larson really did it.Kohlberg followed Larson into the building. The glass door next door was locked, but Larson kicked it open with his big foot, causing glass to splash everywhere. The two find the phone. Larson picked up the receiver and dialed the emergency number 119. "I'm Larson. There's a maniac in the building at 34 Dara Street shooting indiscriminately with an automatic rifle from the roof or attic. Two patrolmen have died in the fountain in front of the Eastman Dental Center. Warning to all Central Precincts People, blocking the section of Dara Street and Fesmanna Road from Northern Railway Square to Carberry Street, and Odin Road from Odin Square to St. Eric's Square. And Fesmana All intersections west of Carberry Street and south of Carberry Street, hear that? What? Order a notification? Yes, notify everyone. No, wait, don't send any patrol cars to this place, and, no Uniforms, our rendezvous at—" He put down the receiver and frowned. "Odinplatz," said Kohlberg. "Okay," Larson said, "just over to Odin Plaza. What? I'm in the Eastman Dental Center, and I'll be there in a few minutes and grab that madman." He dropped the receiver, walked to the nearest restroom, dampened a towel and wiped the blood from his face.Then another towel was wrapped around his head, and the blood immediately soaked the makeshift bandage on his head. Then Larson unbuttoned his jacket and drew the pistol from his belt.He examined the gun carefully, then looked at Kohlberg. "What weapon do you have?" Corberg shook his head. "Oh, yes," said Larson, "you're a pacifist." Larson's gun, like everything else, was different, and it was a . 38 pistol.Larson bought this because he didn't like police guns. "You know what?" Larson said, "I always thought you were a big idiot." Corberg nodded. "Have you thought about how we're going to cross that street?" he asked.