The late afternoon sun cast long shadows across the boy’s cluttered bedroom, the faint light a stark contrast to the day of rain that had come before. Maps, newspaper clippings, and a chaotic web of child drawings plastered the bulletin board – portraits of two men, their faces rendered in a mix of seriousness and childish enthusiasm. Opposite him, perched on a beanbag chair, sat his best friend, his constant companion in this hunt.
“Alright,” the boy with the darker hair, tapped a worn picture of the ‘older guy’. “We know them, and I think they suspect we’ve been following them.”
“We also know the older guy is the ringleader,” the lighter-haired boy, added.
“Right.”
“And he thinks you’re Polisinspektör Mikael Hansson’s son.”
A grin spread across Alvar’s face. “That was cool.”
“And now we need to catch them,” the other boy said, standing up and walking beside Alvar to stand in front of the bulletin board.
“We need help.”
“Police help.”
Alvar chuckled. “Polisinspektör Mikael Hansson’s help,” he corrected, and they both turned their gazes back to the sketches of the older man and his tall, thin accomplice.
“Right,” the boy with the lighter hair conceded. “We need a plan.”
Both boys nodded a determined glint in their eyes.
Polisinspektör Mikael Hansson listened intently as Officer Carl Nisson described the scene at the cafe. A heavy silence hung in the air as Nisson finished his report.
“You know, Carl,” Hansson began, his voice laced with a hint of frustration, “from the very beginning, I’ve had this feeling there are pieces missing from this puzzle. And to top it all off, my son keeps telling me the Persson boy has been acting strangely lately.”
Nisson, his face etched with exhaustion, sighed. “Well sir, with everything that’s happened, wouldn’t that be considered normal? Losing his dad like that…”
“Yes, of course,” Hansson conceded, his voice softening. “How’s your progress on the hunt going, Carl?” he added abruptly, wanting to steer the conversation in a different direction.
Nisson, a man who believed honesty was always the best policy, especially with Hansson, replied sincerely, “Not very well, sir, to be honest.”
A knowing smile played on Hansson’s lips. “I have a hunch,” he said, his gaze intense. “I want you to check something for me. It’s a long shot, but I believe these perpetrators came from abroad, maybe just for a weekend heist. They likely pulled off their last robbery on Sunday evening and then hightailed it back home, wherever that may be.”
The room full of officers swivelled their heads in Hansson’s direction, curiosity etched on their faces.
“There have been reports about a gang operating out of Denmark…” Hansson continued, his voice trailing off as a dark shadow flickered across his eyes. “And they had help,” he added pointedly.
“Local help,” Officer Carl blurted out, the realization dawning on him.
“Precisely,” Hansson said a grim satisfaction in his voice. He turned and walked towards his office, leaving Nisson with a gnawing question in his gut. Nisson, however, held his tongue. He didn’t follow the Polisinspektör, but a seed of doubt had been firmly planted. ‘Good information’ – those were the words Hansson had used. And that, Nisson thought, was a very good lead to follow.
He moved back to his desk, his mind racing. Were Hansson’s suspicions about the missing pieces connected to Emil Persson’s murder, or the recent string of robberies? Nisson couldn’t help but steal a glance at Hansson’s office. The Polisinspektör was staring out the window, his face a mask of contemplation.
“No way,” Nisson thought to himself. There’s no way he could be thinking what I’m thinking. He’s not that old, what, mid-forties? He wouldn’t have been here back in the eighties. Even I can barely remember that time; I was just a rookie cop. But then again, we’re all human, aren’t we? Nisson looked around the room at his colleagues hunched over their computers and files. ‘Policemen are just humans,’ he thought, a melancholic truth settling over him. With a determined sigh, he switched on his computer and began combing through the robbery reports once more, his eyes searching for the hidden connection, the single thread that would unravel the entire case.
The son of vengeance
Part 01 – Part 02 – Part 03 – Part 04 – Part 05 – Part 06 – Part 07 – Part 08 – Part 09
Part 10 – Part 11 – Part 12 – Part 13 – Part 14 – Part 15 – Part 16 –
The Ovi 