First up was Chief Inspector Jan Lewin, who after some introductory, cautious throat clearing quickly zeroed in on Johansson’s fundamental motive, namely the need for fresh eyes. The idea as such was excellent. He himself had advocated it often enough. Not least during his time as head of the group that dealt with so-called cold cases. But for that very reason he thought he was particularly poorly suited for this case.
During the initial year of the investigation-while Lewin was working at the homicide squad in Stockholm-he had primary responsibility for the collection of significant portions of the material evidence. Not until the investigation was taken over by the national bureau did he return to his old assignment at the homicide squad in Stockholm. Several years later he moved over to the national bureau, and once there he had also helped on the Palme investigation for a few brief periods with the registration and review of new leads that had come in.
“I don’t know if you remember, boss, but the investigation leader, Hans Holmér, the police chief in Stockholm at that time, collected large quantities of information that perhaps didn’t have anything directly to do with the murder itself but might prove to be of value.” Lewin nodded at Lisa Mattei, who had been only a little girl in those days.
“I remember the police chief at that time,” said Johansson. Of unblessed memory, he thought. “Though most of what he found I’ve managed to repress. What was it that landed on your desk, Lewin?”
At best, quite a bit of questionable value, according to Lewin.
“All hotel registrations in the Stockholm area around the time of the murder. All arrivals into and departures from the country that could be substantiated with the usual passport and border checks, all parking violations in greater Stockholm around the time of the crime, all speeding violations and other traffic offenses in the whole country the day of the murder, the day before and the day after, all other crimes and arrests in the Stockholm area at the time of the crime. We took in everything from drunkenness and domestic disturbances to all ordinary crimes reported during the twenty-four-hour period in question. We also collected accident reports. Plus all suicides and strange causes of death that happened both before and after the murder. I know when I left the investigation they were still working on that part. As you know, it added up to quite a bit. Hundreds of pounds of paper, thousands of pages actually, and I’m only talking about what came in during my time.”
“The broad, unbiased effort,” Johansson observed.
“Yes, that’s what it’s called,” said Lewin. “Sometimes it works, but this time almost all of it remained unprocessed. There simply wasn’t time to do anything. I sat and skimmed through what came in, and I had my hands full just with what first jumped out at me. Ninety percent of the paperwork was basically put right back in the boxes where it had been from the start.”
“Give me some examples,” said Johansson. “What things jumped out at you, Lewin?”
“I remember four different suicides,” said Lewin. “The first took place only a few hours after the murder of the prime minister. I remember it in detail, because when I got the papers on my desk I actually felt some of those old vibrations you feel when things are starting to heat up.” Lewin shook his head thoughtfully.
“The man who committed suicide had hung himself in the rec room of his house. A guard who took early retirement who lived on Ekerö a few miles outside Stockholm. He was the neighbor of a police officer, so I got the tip through him. He also had a license for a handgun, to top it off a revolver that might very well have matched what we knew about the murder weapon at that time. He was generally considered strange by those who knew him. Antisocial, divorced for several years, problems with alcohol, the usual stuff. In brief, he seemed pretty good, but he had an alibi for the evening of the murder. For one thing, he’d quarreled with some neighbors who were out with their dog at about ten o’clock. Then he called his ex-wife from his home phone, a total of three times if I remember correctly, and carried on with her about the same time as Palme was shot. I had no problem ruling him out. We found his revolver in the house search. It was test fired, even though we already knew it was the wrong caliber.”
“And the others?” Johansson was looking almost greedily at his colleague.
“No,” said Lewin, “at the risk of disappointing you, and I was pretty careful about these cases. I remember when the media started making a row about the so-called police track, that it was some of our fellow officers who murdered Palme, I went into the material on my own and checked for that specifically-all the parking violations and other traffic offenses where the vehicle or the perpetrator could be connected to our colleagues, whether or not they were on duty.”
“But that didn’t produce anything either,” said Johansson.
“No,” said Lewin. “Other than some pretty imaginative explanations of why a particular officer shouldn’t have to pay his parking tickets or why his car ended up in such a strange place.”
“Exactly,” said Johansson. “The same old women problems if you ask me. Nevertheless, wouldn’t it be interesting for you to take another look at your old boxes? Now when you’ve got some perspective, I mean. I can’t help sensing that you don’t seem completely uncomfortable with the job. And you could take a look at all the rest, once you’re at it anyway, I mean.”
“With some reservations about fresh eyes,” said Lewin, sounding more positive than he intended. “Well, maybe so. The basic idea is good enough.”
Coward, thought Anna Holt, who didn’t intend to let Johansson get off that easily.
“With all due respect, boss, even though I also believe the part about fresh eyes, and even though I’ve never been anywhere near this investigation, I really don’t believe in the idea,” said Holt. Now it’s said, she thought.
“I’m listening, Anna,” said Johansson, with the same expression in his eyes he’d learned from his first elkhound. The gaze that naturally ensues from undivided positive attention. As when he and the dog took a break in the hunt, when he told him to sit nicely, just before he gave him a slice of sausage from the lunch sack. “What do you mean?”
“What I mean is that I can’t imagine a more thrashed-out case in Swedish police history. Investigated over and over again in every conceivable and inconceivable respect. Without technical evidence worth the name. With witnesses who were pumped dry twenty years ago, most of whom are now probably either dead or in no shape to be talked with. Where the only suspect worth the name, I’m thinking of Christer Pettersson, obviously, was convicted in Stockholm District Court almost twenty years ago, only to be released by Svea Court of Appeal six months later. The same Pettersson they tried to indict again ten years ago, but the prosecutor couldn’t even get a new trial. The same Pettersson who died a few years ago. As if everything that happened before wasn’t more than enough to close the investigation against him.”
“You’re making me think of that classic skit, Anna. I think it won a prize as the world’s best TV sketch. That Monty Python thing about the dead parrot,” said Johansson. “Wasn’t it a Norwegian blue? Wasn’t that what it was called? The parrot that is.
“‘This parrot is dead.’ You know that scene where the upset customer is in the pet shop and slams the dead parrot on the counter,” Johansson explained as he slammed his desktop to illustrate.
“Sure,” said Holt. “If you like. This investigation is dead. Just as dead as Monty Python’s parrot.”
“Maybe it’s just a little tired,” said Johansson. “Isn’t that what the shop owner says-the one who sold the customer the parrot, when the customer comes in to complain? ‘He’s not dead, just a little tired.’”