Chapter 22
Gerd Pettersson lived in a snug little house in Oskarstrom, and when Siri parked on the street she caught a glimpse of her new colleague’s frizzy hair in the kitchen window. Despite the early hour, she seemed nimble and alert, full of focus. She swiftly downed the last bite of her sandwich.
A house. Yes, maybe it was about time to get one.
Siri had grown up in a series of apartments in the central neighborhoods of Halmstad.
In her memory, the furniture was always the same, which made the rooms it stood in look identical even though the apartments weren’t.
She remembered early mornings before Dad left for work as a foreman at Pilkington Glass, quiet moments at the kitchen table with Mom before they had to get ready for school.
Autumn weekends, going along to hunt with Dad and being supplied with activity books to keep her from pestering during the long hours outside.
The passenger door flew open.
“Good morning,” Gerd said, plopping heavily into the seat. “Aren’t you an early bird.”
“Always have been.”
“Did you get any sleep?”
Siri had left Oskarstrom very late, worn out from a first day full of too many intense impressions.
Despite her exhaustion, she had lain awake for a long time in the quiet apartment, trying to organize those impressions, put them in order and study them, as though they were objects she could scrutinize and comb for something she’d missed.
“A few hours. You?”
“I’ll make it. Didn’t you bring anything?”
“I did, but I didn’t have time to stop and buy it.”
Siri reached into the backseat and fumbled for the thermos and the two plastic mugs next to it.
Gerd took them. “This is better anyway. Home-brewed coffee, damn, that’s nice. You drive, I’ll pour.”
The clock on the dashboard read 9:30. They drove to the office and changed into their uniforms, then headed to Skavboke with plenty of time to spare. Gerd poured coffee into a plastic mug and set it in Siri’s cupholder before filling her own.
“I need to call the prosecutor and Violent Crimes in Halmstad later,” Gerd said. “Can you remind me? They’ll want an update.”
“Have any of them even been out here yet?”
“They came out yesterday afternoon, apparently. Stood around staring and offering opinions for a while before they declared they were freezing their asses off and took off again.” Gerd scoffed.
“I’m sure they have their own stuff to deal with in town and all, but damn, I’ve never gotten along with them.
These days we stay out of each other’s way as best we can.
Hopefully you won’t have to deal with them much either. City people.”
Gerd said “city people” as though it were a curse. It probably was.
“I didn’t mean…” Gerd rushed to say, glancing at Siri. “I mean, there are some good folks there too. I’ve heard.”
Siri laughed. “I’ll do my best.”
“Has it been a challenge?”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, you know, just, you’re kind of small. And, um, a little unusual.”
Siri changed gears. Her response made it clear that she’d gotten this question before.
“I worked in Correctional Care one summer. When I met officers, they often said they needed people like me on the force. I didn’t really know what that meant, but since I had no idea what I wanted to do I decided to apply.
That’s the gist of it. It hasn’t been too much of a challenge. ”
That probably wasn’t the whole truth, but maybe it was part of it.
If you asked her dad, it had all started with the activity books, thin volumes full of riddles and puzzles to think about.
Was it even possible to trace a career so far back in a life?
Sure, maybe. Sometimes. She would sit with those books for hours, until she had solved every one and felt a certain relief: now the world made sense.
“How about you?”
“Not that different from you, maybe,” Gerd said. “I needed a job.”
She slurped as she drank.
“You’ve been an officer for a long time, haven’t you?” Siri asked.
“Since 1965.”
“You must have been an early one. As a woman, I mean.”
“You better believe it. I was one of the first to emerge from those doors up in Stockholm, once they started accepting women into the academy. God knows, I might have only been the second or third woman with the Halland Police. Those were different times. I used to say I had a dog with me. When I was chasing after hooligans I pretended to let this dog loose on them.”
“What?”
“When we got the new uniforms, Christ, they were so heavy, and there was this burglary on Klammerdammsgatan in Halmstad where the thief leapt out an open window and ran off. I had never run in that uniform before, of course, only in lightweight workout gear, you know. That was how we trained. We should have done it all in uniform, to get used to them. Anyway, this bastard was getting away from me. I don’t even remember who it was now.
Woof! I barked. Woof! Stop, or I’ll release the dog! Woof-woof!”
“Did it work?”
“Hell no. I didn’t sound anything like a dog.”
Siri burst out laughing.
“I never tried to sound like a dog,” she admitted, “but my first chase on foot was in town, too, down Brogatan. A purse-snatcher. It happened in the middle of the square. I ran after him as fast as I could, but like you say, we still don’t practice running or obstacle courses in uniform even today.
So,” she said, gesturing, “I threw my baton at him.”
Gerd laughed so hard it turned into a cough. “Did you get him?”
“Not by a long shot. But of course, I was running after him, heading for the bus bridge, so when I reached the baton I picked it up and tried again. But no luck. Another miss. So I was just as unprepared as you, in one way.”
“In one way,” Gerd echoed, raising her mug, “it’s a whole different world, being a female police officer in 1999 as opposed to 1969. But in another way, it’s really not. Cheers to that. And Merry Christmas.”
“Cheers, Gerd.”
A brief silence. She had mentioned a husband, Siri recalled, a husband who’d been a hunter. “You didn’t live alone in your house, did you? Originally, I mean.”
“No, that’s right. My husband died ten years ago. Thomas.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Thank you.”
Neither of them spoke again until they turned off the road and parked next to the chapel.