Original subtitles

—Who are you? What are you doing here? —The code to the safe!

—I don't know what the code is here. —But give me the code, for fuck's sake!

—But I don't know. —The code! Or I'll kill you!

The code!

Okay, okay, okay, okay! 1982. One, nine, eight, two.

1982. One, nine... One, nine, eight, two.

Ah... Nineteen hundred... Nineteen eighty-two.

—Good morning. —Thanks.

—No, I'm done with this now. —With what?

But, like, the whole love thing. I'm not interested anymore.

Find someone who... It's not worth it. I have to accept that this is how it turned out.

Middle-aged man, single... yeah, lives for his job. Cop cliché, basically.

—Where is Josef? —You gave him the day off.

Damn, I forgot. Steinar, come with us. They've found a dead man out in Nacka.

—Hi. —Hi.

—But put on the mask. The mask! —No, for fuck's sake.

Are you afraid your macho facade is fading? Show them how it's done in reality.

Reality isn't plastic balls and a beer afterwards.

If you get hit in the eye, you don't want a beer. Put your mask on.

I'm going to show you what reality is. Then let's go!

—So, are you getting any time off then? —Inger wants to get started on the allotment.

But you know how it is. It's hard to switch off.

Take it easy. Josef and I can keep the boat afloat for a few days.

Hi! Well, then.

It is a little further into the forest. Viewer discretion is advised.

Yes, it was a trail runner who ran into him. Literally.

He couldn't have been dead for that long.

—The cause of death is pretty obvious, isn't it? —Mm, one of the worst things I've seen.

—ID? —No. No wallet, no phone.

Then we won't get any identity that way. Is there something else that...?

Bruno! Where have you been, darling? Why aren't you answering? Where are you?

Hi. My name is Alexandra Beijer. I am a police officer.

—Who am I speaking to? —My name is Maria Simonsson.

Hi, Maria. We have found the phone and need to know who it belongs to.

It looks like Josef and I will have a bit to keep us busy, at least.

I'll take care of the paintball, but Petter is running the rage room.

Petter! Nice!

I mean, look at little sis. Do you think it's scary?

Scary? The scariest thing here today is that everyone looks just like their parents.

Yes, God, it's been 20 years and we all look like rotten lingonberries.

But you've been holding up quite well, I think.

Thank you. You too.

Good job, Åsa. Come out now.

The jogger he hung out with was named Bruno Simonsson.

50 years old, married, two adult children. He owned an antique shop in Gamla stan—

—called Aureum along with a Jonas Forssell.

I've had an initial conversation with Simonsson's wife—

—but I think we'll have time for a talk with Forssell today.

If Oskar and Jenny take it, Steinar and Josef will take over tomorrow.

—Absolutely. —That's good.

Unfortunately, we can only say that he was found near a jogging trail.

It's so damn scary. Completely insane that he would die like that.

Bruno was so incredibly kind. Never harmed a fly.

So you don't know who wanted to kill him?

No. No.

Unless... A couple of guys came in here a few months ago.

And they want to buy the shop.

But Bruno didn't want to sell and...they became quite threatening.

—Did you file a police report? —As if that would have helped...!

No, unfortunately there is a bunch of obscure people in our industry.

We have a reservoir of trust to manage, so it's not that simple.

—Do you know the names of those who threatened you? —No, unfortunately.

Would you recognize them if you saw them again?

Maybe. Yeah, I think so.

You got kicked out, vomited on the dance floor— and then fell asleep in a gravel pit.

Didn't you steal a pinball machine too? At that campsite.

Yeah, yeah, yeah! Yeah, and you drove off and the whole trunk flew up and...

—No, it wasn't him, it was... —No, no, it was my brother.

—Yes, Tobban. —Tobban, yes. What is he doing these days?

—Åsa, drop it. —It's a rather long story.

I just have to say, Lindberg... Fuck, you sucked at paintball.

What, did I come in last, or something? I mean, I don't know.

The years go by, muscles atrophy. But that's not so bad, is it?

You look completely sick. No, holy shit!

I can't breathe. Where is the light?

—Do you get really scared? —No.

—You certainly will! —Where is the lamp?

Wait a minute. Wait. Okay, okay. What happens if I do this?

—God... —How does it feel? Take that off.

—I'm a police officer and I know how these things work. —I see...

—Cissi? Cissi, everyone is leaving now. —Okay!

Yes, yes, yes. I'm coming! Go on ahead, you guys! I'm coming!

Yes, because the taxi is coming now.

Then I'll take that one.

—You. Honey. —Yes?

It's ringing. Your mobile. Hey.

Shh, shh.

It's fine, I'm in. Just give me the address.

And the money?

It'll be fine. Don't call anymore. It'll work out.

Okay? Hi.

—Nice apartment. —Mm. But unfortunately, it's not mine.

A friend has traveled abroad, so it's just my home for half a year.

—That was nice, this. —Mm. It was pretty half-hearted. Right?

—Was it a disappointment, or what? —Mm.

What are you going to do today?

—Work. And train. —Mhm.

But maybe I'll just skip that and stay and practice on you instead.

Fuck, seriously, I can't.

Shit. I'm emptying dad's house. It has to be empty before the end of the month.

Okay. Is he going to move, or what?

No. He is... he is dead.

I'm sorry, sorry, I didn't know.

There's no way you could know that.

—Heart attack. —Mhm.

He was a goldsmith, after all. He had the workshop in the garage.

And then about a month ago, there was a break-in.

He must have figured them out somehow.

His heart stopped. The police found him in the garden.

Did we get the ones who did it, or what?

You shut down the investigation before it had even begun.

He died because his heart stopped beating.

Not the burglars' fault, apparently.

Hm.

—Has Josef arrived? —Not yet.

—I'll call him now. —No, he's been at a school reunion.

So he's been partying all night. He'll probably show up once he's sobered up.

—Thanks for coming, anyway. —Yes, of course.

—Did Dad do it? —Yes, he actually did.

He designed it for my mother as a wedding gift when they got married.

Then he made a few more over the years.

Okay, here it is.

Dammit.

Yeah, they went pretty hard on the place. Åsa and I haven't had the energy to deal with it.

—But the lock was intact? —Yes.

I think they forced Dad to give up the safe code.

—What did he have in it? —Gold. A whole lot of finished jewelry.

—Okay. Value...? —500,000. Everything was covered by insurance.

Dad was super meticulous, had receipts for everything. But... this...

—Rage room. —Yes... Yes, indeed.

—But he had a surveillance camera. —What, he did?

Yes. Some DIY thing that he has worked on.

Yes, damn it.

—Hello! —It's Åsa.

We're here! — Come.

The police who were here were a complete joke. They didn't seem to care.

They just said: "He died of natural causes."

So fucking indifferent.

Then when I called a week later they had just closed down.

—Did he have a computer here? —His laptop, which was also stolen.

Did they steal anything else from the house?

A Bluetooth speaker from the kitchen also disappeared.

—And that was everything? —Yes, as far as I know.

The camera was connected to the computer that stood here.

Yes, but I can't answer things like that.

The police would help us with that when they arrived here.

How the fuck am I supposed to know all of this? It's completely insane.

We just stood here like some fucking idiots. Yeah, and...

—I'm sorry, Josef. —It's okay.

—Thanks. —Are you staying to help us pack?

No, I have to go to work.

But I'll see if I can dig a little further into this.

Yeah, I can't promise anything, but...

We see.

—Hey! Where have you been? —Overslept.

—Right, okay. —Did something happen, or what?

—Besides the fact that you've messed up? —Mm.

Steinar can bring that with you. There's a murder on a jogging trail.

A Bruno Simonsson. But I'm off now, so get in touch if there's anything. Bye.

—Goodbye. —Goodbye.

—Ho—ho! —Hi.

—"Half past seven at my place"? What's going on? —You and I are going to Forensic Medicine.

And then my appetite will return at best tomorrow afternoon—

—so it'll be tagliatelle with meat ragu and a little queso fresco.

—Okay? Hungry? —Yeah, what the hell...

Then you'll have to shred the leeks.

Cheers.

But hey, what about the father of that Cissi...

I agree that it's fucking terrible, but is it murder?

I checked with the lead investigator, who said the report was a disaster.

They wrote natural causes and that no autopsy was required.

And that the door had been forced, which is very strange, because the lock was intact.

—Someone else might have a key. —If he didn't leave the workshop unlocked.

—Yes, we have to go. —Who are we going to see at Forensics?

An antique dealer executed in the forest. Ready?

The cause of death is not strangulation.

Crushed larynx, the airways are completely blocked by bone and blood.

—From the strap? —No, a blow to the larynx.

My name is Josef Eriksson and I'm calling from the police.

Yes, the band was probably kept on afterwards to finish the job.

—To be sure of the result? —Yes, it is possible.

Send it over. That's very kind. Thank you so much. Hi.

What's happening?

The goldsmith fucking has a cleaning service once a week from a cleaning company.

A young 22-year-old girl who might have her own key.

According to the old hag at the company, she lived a wild life with drugs and all that.

She is registered with the father, who also seems damn shaky. I'll call.

—It has nothing to do with this? —No. — Goodbye.

You have reached Ulrika Kennerberg. Say something after the beep.

No, the cleaner isn't answering. I just need to check one thing first.

—Is that Ulrika? —Mm. Kennerberg.

I'll just take a quick look.

Steinar!

What?

—What? —We're going in.

There's someone in there. We're going in.

No, no, no. I'm calling. Now.

Police!

Here he is.

Check the kitchen.

Here is another one.

And that is Ulrika Kennerberg.

—We didn't see it as necessary... —It could have been an ongoing crime.

—Or if he were alive. It was just... —Stop! Right. What are you doing here?

Steinar accompanied me as a favor.

I wanted to check on a burglary investigation. An old buddy's dad had been burglarized.

An old buddy? Really? And then you stumbled upon two bodies?

—Yes. —Okay.

Ulrika Kennerberg and Per—Erik Stensson, according to legend, on the bodies.

Per—Erik has been shot in the head, but he's the only one with a gun.

Ulrika was suffocated. Crushing injuries to the neck.

—And she lives here, right? —Yes, with a Johan Kennerberg.

—65. Probably her dad. —And you didn't run into him?

—No. —Oh yeah?

And does anyone know who this Stensson with the weapon is?

—No. —I was eavesdropping on you guys a little.

You were talking about a burglary at a jeweler's, right?

Yes... We have some things here that might come from there.

—Biggan, can I have the box? —Mm, here.

Let me see the one at the very front. No, that one. There, yes.

—Was there any computer included? —Nope.

We are going to go through this thoroughly.

Including what your old pal has to do with it. Okay?

But what the fuck, am I not allowed to come into my own house? For fuck's sake!

I fucking live here! What is it? Has something happened?

Hi. Hi. Are you Johan Kennerberg?

—Yes. Fuck, it... —We want to take you to the station.

—No, we're talking here. —He's shit-drunk, Josef. It's...

We'll take it now. — Johan, we need to talk to you for a bit. Okay?

Come. Let's sit down and talk for a bit.

We understand that this is difficult. But in order for us to find out—

—regarding what happened to Ulrika, we need you to answer a few questions.

—Do you know who Per—Erik Stensson is? —No, no, I've never heard of him.

—Was there someone she used to hang out with? —I don't know who it is, I'm telling you.

Johan, Ulrika worked as a cleaner, you know.

Did she have access to keys to the people she worked for?

Could it be that she used the keys in some other way?

What the fuck do you mean?

Did she use the keys to break into her customers' homes?

Is this about the goldsmith?

—What did you say about the goldsmith? —Nothing. I don't know anything.

No, I don't know.

She was my daughter and now she is dead. Poof.

—What... What am I going to see? —The man we found, he...

—Yes, it can't be Per—Erik. —We hope you can answer that.

But the man we have found had Per-Erik's driver's license on him.

Well, then he must have robbed him or taken his driver's license.

It could be an opportunity.

—Is he lying in there now? —Yes.

Is this Per—Erik?

So, so, so. So. So.

There are no known links between Ulrika and Per-Erik Stensson.

Both have no criminal records. According to his wife, Per-Erik is a responsible young father—

—youth taekwondo coach and former security guard.

—Former? What did he do now? —Day trading. Online stock trading.

—How was he actually living on that? —Yeah, together with her part-time salary.

Are you checking their finances, Ayda? Thanks.

He might have been involved in her burglary operations.

If more cleaning clients had been robbed, an alarm should have gone off a long time ago.

Unless all those investigations have also been dropped.

Per-Erik Stensson must have had a reason to go out to Ulrika.

—Besides, he was armed. —So he was at home with a gun.

Someone showed up, shot him, strangled her and fled the scene?

—Is Dad a possible candidate? —Josef and I talked about it.

The question is whether he is capable of it. I don't think he strangled his daughter.

No. I feel like I would want to pull this off with Martin.

Is it really supposed to smoke that much?

It fell down a little bit. Okay? It's going to be great.

Let me... just let me... Okay?

Hello? Hello?

—Hi, Inger. Am I interrupting? —No. Has something happened?

No. Martin said I could come. He didn't say that, did he?

—Yeah, of course. Come and sit down. —Then we should have bought more food.

—Are you hungry? —No. I'm fine, thanks.

Yes, we must share what we have. Would you like a glass of wine?

No thanks. I'm just going to grab a few things with Martin and it'll be quick.

—You've got a nice place. —Hey, Vilhelm! —Hey.

I can't make this make sense. The bullet that killed Per—Erik Stensson—

—is of the same caliber as the weapon he was holding. The magazine was half empty.

NFC is test-firing now to see if it's the same weapon.

But I don't understand. Is it the same person who killed both of them?

And if so, in what order?

But if there wasn't a third person involved then?

We must await the full report from Forensic Medicine—

—but the shot to the head didn't necessarily have to be instantly fatal.

Say that... Per—Erik was there to kill Ulrika Kennerberg.

Why? He had no priors. They don't seem to have known each other.

Yes, the motive could be some old jealousy drama we're unaware of—

—or something linked to her previous criminal activity.

Anyway, she lets him in, a fight breaks out, and he attacks her.

—She grabs his gun. —And fires a shot at him.

But he still manages to kill Ulrika.

And before he dies he crawls toward the door—

—and there...

In that case, no third party was involved.

Ulrika and Per-Erik killed each other.

Mm.

—Give the rest to Alex. —That's fine. I'm not that hungry.

—Yes, you're welcome then. —Thanks.

Nice that you could make it. Even if it wasn't just for social reasons.

I'm sorry, I'll just...

From Ayda. Per—Erik Stensson's stock— deals seem to be a total scam.

He lost a lot of money last year, contrary to what his wife said.

Conduct a search. The motive is in there somewhere.

Cheers, Mom.

—Cheers. —You survive.

—Yes, cheers. Cheers, everyone. —Cheers. And thank you.

—Hi! —Hi.

Are you... are you already back?

Hell. I'm getting so worked up that I can't find the key. Come in.

Okay. I hope you like sweaty girls.

No, but I can make an exception for your sake.

Yeah, I'd like to talk about something.

Okay. Already?

Yes. It's okay.

We had fucking great sex. It's okay if it stays there.

No, I mean... We've found the one who broke into your dad's place.

—That was quick work. Are you sure? —Mm.

A lot of stolen goods, the same jewelry as yours. We're safe.

—Who was it? —It is an ongoing investigation.

I can't talk about it, but I wanted you to find out.

Some people think that their dad has been a true role model.

And for me and Åsa, especially for Åsa, he really was that.

Åsa has felt extremely poorly for long periods and...

Mom disappeared, you know, when we were little and...

We only had Dad. He was our whole world.

He fought so damn hard. He was... He did everything for us.

He has been direct, honest, he has respected people.

He really... He was good. Actually.

It might sound completely insane, but he was truly good.

She is dead. Murdered.

—"Her"? —Yes.

—Was it the cleaning lady? —I can't say more. Sorry.

—Why not? —I've already said too much.

Yes, I need to take a shower.

—Josef? —Yes?

Do you feel like taking a shower?

—But what is this? —I am so sorry.

I understand that this is terrible, but we have to go through the apartment.

Why? I don't understand. My husband is dead.

You don't understand. I...

You can check the boxes here later as well.

Johannes?

I think we have something.

—Cissi. —Mm?

—Someone's here. —What?

—Someone's here. —What...?

—Oh god. I think it's Åsa. —What?

You can put something on. You must put something on.

"You must," do what?

Come on.

—Come... come in. —But are you still sleeping?

No, I have... company.

—Oh. Hey! —Hey.

Good morning.

They have found the one who took dad's life. It was the cleaning lady.

What? But that's terrible.

You can't tell us anything more about what you already know?

We are under a preliminary investigation secrecy order. — More coffee?

No thanks. At least then we know it was the cleaning lady.

—Do you have any contact with Tobbe then? —With my brother?

—No, I haven't. —Because he's in jail, right?

—Mm. He's in jail. —But you're going to visit him and what?

—No, I don't. —Okay.

Yes, God. None of us actually knew him.

But we have heard about what happened. It must have been fucking terrible.

Mm.

I don't mean to keep digging around in that...

It's no problem. It was several years ago, after all.

It's still good to try to have some form of contact.

When the wind blows hardest, siblinghood is tested.

—Right, Åsa? —Yes. Yes.

But we have to get started if we're going to get it finished in time for the realtor.

Okay. I'm coming. Yes.

Sorry, gotta run. Work.

Talk to you later.

—Martin! —Inger probably hates me now.

No. And I am an adult and I decide for myself.

And this has become too interesting for me to enjoy the spring sun.

The straps that were found in the cellar— storage room at Per-Erik Stensson's home—

—so we can link him to the murders—

—on Bruno Simonsson and Ulrika Kennerberg.

Additionally, we have received confirmation from the NFC—

—that the bullet that killed Per—Erik—

—came from the weapon he himself was holding when he was found dead.

Another connection is two transactions of 250,000 each—

—to Per-Erik Stensson's account during the last month.

Ayda tracks where the money is coming from using the echolot.

From a Latvian transaction account, so there are privacy regulations.

But hopefully we can track down the person who made the payments.

—Per—Erik Stensson was a professional killer? —Yes, it seems so.

When he lost the security guard job, he told his wife that he was a stock trader.

—And worked extra as a hitman. —What is wrong with men?

Not all men need to murder to make ends meet.

But if one does it, then that's one too many.

—How do we proceed? —Ayda has a point there.

We have a phone number in Per—Erik Stensson's mobile.

He has had recurring calls from the number—

—the time before the murder of Ulrika Kennerberg.

But the calls are coming from an unregistered prepaid SIM card.

—There's no more information? —No.

The person who called is named Ricky according to the contact list in Per-Erik's phone.

—Ricky? —Per—Erik calls him Ricky.

Okay. Nice work. — Josef, can we have a chat?

Close the door.

The door — can you close it? Shut the door.

You and her, Cissi... How serious is it?

—I don't know, it's... —She is a possible suspect.

But what the fuck?

I've heard how pissed off you get when someone is near Jäv.

—Cissi didn't order any murder. —Are you sure about that?

Are you absolutely sure about that?

That Ulrika Kennerberg broke into the workshop—

—was an indirect or direct cause of—

—that Cissi's dad died. That is a motive.

You must tell Alex everything you know and ask to be recused from the investigation.

Otherwise, you're being spiteful.

I get it.

I will do everything I can to find others who wanted to kill Ulrika, but right now...

Okay, I get it, I said!

Could this have been one of the men who wanted to take over your business?

—No. He didn't threaten us. —No, he might have worked for them.

—But you don't recognize him at all? —No.

He might have come into the shop to scout things out or something.

No. I am sorry.

Johan? We would like to talk to you for a bit.

So most things point to your daughter being the victim of a contract killing.

—Do you understand what we're saying? —Mm.

Someone paid a lot of money for Ulrika to die.

Who had reason to do that?

We know she committed the burglary.

Do you know if she stole from the wrong person? Someone who might have wanted to...

I kill for money. But...

...you, ese, you are my friend, so I'll kill you for nothing.

Johan. Did she have any enemies? An old ex-girlfriend, anything.

They killed my best friend—

—so I'm going to kill each and every one of them.

My only disappointment is that I can do it only once.

Exactly.

And that's what happens when you watch too many gangster movies. Watch out.

Hi. Come in.

Come.

—Can I ask you one thing? —Mm.

Has anyone from the police called here? Someone named Alex or Steinar or something?

—Have you done something? —No, but has it...

—No, nobody has called. —Okay.

Josef, what is it?

This murder of the maid...

It was a contract killing.

Someone paid money for her to die.

Okay.

—You know nothing about it? —What could I possibly know about it?

I don't know, but I just have to ask.

Do you have to?

It's been kind of cozy dating a cop, but this is a joke.

What the fuck are you doing? Is this some fucking interrogation, or what?

—This is going to be very strange for me. —I don't want it to be like this.

—It's very unsettling. Leave. —Yes, but you have to answer the question.

Absolutely not. Why should I do that?

Cissi, do you know anything about the murder of the cleaning lady?

Answer the question.

No. I don't think so.

—Cissi, answer the question. —I want you to leave here — now.

Get out of here!

Mm.

—Hi. —Hi.

—Can I come in? —Absolutely.

I have spoken with Steinar.

Okay. And what has Steinar said?

That you have some kind of relationship with this Cissi—

—and that she might mean more to the investigation than you've said.

Are you and her in a relationship?

Yes.

And then you surely understand yourself that you cannot work on the case?

You were fucking hard on me when I was being a prick.

I remember exactly what I said!

And what do you think? Is she involved?

I don't know.

My God...

We'll do this. You're home tomorrow and then we'll see how we proceed.

Okay? Good.

Hello?

Hi. Where should I put this?

Has something happened, or what?

—Josef was here. —Okay.

The police believe it is a contract killing of the cleaning lady.

And Josef wondered what I knew about it.

—What did you say then? —I told him to go to hell.

Not that I feel sorry for that fucking cleaner.

—She deserved to die. —But, Cissi...

—Right? —I don't like it when you get like this.

When I act like this? You're the one who's been acting like a fucking psycho.

God damn, you're being so unfair right now.

It has been a fucking nightmare getting you back on your feet since Dad died.

You've been in some kind of coma and just waiting for—

—that someone else is going to come and clean up your fucking mess.

You know what? You have no idea who I am.

You've never understood that. Ever.

—Now we're leaving. —Yes, finally.

—Your call has been regis... —Central Guard.

Hi. Josef Erisson. I have booked a visit.

Little brother?

It took a while before you got here, didn't it?

Hey, Tobbe.

You want a beating?

Yes!

I had to perform such a fucking slalom with what I said so that Dad wouldn't lose it.

He always used to hit me here. Right on the top of my head, like this.

—What the fuck did he just call me? Soup... —Soup weed.

Soup root. Soup root...!

What the fuck even is this? Rutabaga.

Why did you keep hanging out with him?

We had a few common interests, one could say.

We were living together there at the end, though.

In that shitty fucking apartment in Rotebro.

So one night, there was some gram of some shit missing and...

He accused me of having stolen it, lost his temper and started swinging around there.

Shit, damn it.

It was a common fucking kitchen knife. Did you know that?

I probably didn't realize at first how bad it was. Neither did he.

He just barged in, lay down on the bed, and bled to death.

I found the charger later. It was in his own fucking jacket pocket.

I'm sorry.

I'm sorry?

For what, then?

Because I wasn't there then and...

...that I haven't been here.

He was a fucking monster, my dad.

Someone had to do this.

So now I'm the monster.

Ping monster.

Exactly. And you can damn well bet on it.

A table tennis monster, huh?

Do you remember a girl named Cissi Karlsson?

Cissi...?

Yes, damn it, yes...

She had a sister too, right?

Åsa, right? Yeah, yeah, damn, I remember them. Why, how so?

Because I... messed things up.

Got myself into a mess.

Those two were pretty sketchy.

—Anyway, that one there. —The thing is, I don't remember it.

At school when you met them, they were—

—completely well-behaved and sweet and all that, but I mean...

Then at night when you lay and whispered in bed...

Then, you know, fucking hell.

Especially that one there. She must have been completely hammered, like.

She wanted us to call her Ricky. Did you know that?

—What did you say? —Yes, Ricky. No idea why.

—I guess she thought it was cool. —Åsa?

No. Cissi.

Cissi Karlsson.

What do you mean, what has happened?

—Hi. —Hi.

—Uh, I don't know if you've heard. —No, no, what?

Cissi's sister, Åsa Karlsson, appears to have taken her own life.

She jumped out from a balcony.

So she is dead.

—When did this happen? —Late last night.

Martin and Steinar go to Cissi and Oskar and Jenny to Åsa's address.

Because we treat it like a crime scene.

I think this story is becoming more and more unsettling.

Or what do you say?

Is there nothing you have heard or know that could help us?

Um, yeah...

Cissi called herself Ricky in her teens.

As I said earlier on the phone, we need to ask a few questions.

—Do you have the energy for it? —Uh, yes. Yes, absolutely. I can do it.

Do you have any idea at all why Åsa wanted to take her life?

No.

She has always been very, uh...

...then Dad died, she has been...

I don't know, she has been stuck in anger and grief.

It's like we have very different relationships with Dad.

We've had so much fun together, me and dad—

—and I think Åsa was very, very jealous of that.

She was jealous.

—Your mother died early, didn't she? —Mm.

Mm, when we were little.

After high school, I just left them in a way that was...

...yes...

They became very close, the two of them. It was as if he...

It was as if he were carrying her. The whole time.

He became, like, her...

The most important thing in her life, in a way.

I don't know... they...

He maybe became too overprotective in some way. I don't know.

When did you last see Åsa?

She was here yesterday.

Last night she was here and we...

And how...how did she seem?

Okay. I thought she seemed good.

We had a good time. It was... Or, well...

We started arguing about something, but it wasn't anything special.

What were you guys arguing about?

I don't remember. It was nothing, nothing important.

—I don't remember. —You don't remember why you were arguing?

What does it matter? Nothing, a trivial thing. It doesn't matter, does it?

I have to take this. — Yes?

I see.

Okay.

—Yes, but then there's documentation. —Hi. What, are you going to be here too?

—No, I just drove past. —Yeah, but we can talk about it later.

So fucking tragic. She has probably jumped from the balcony.

—Which floor? —The sixth.

—How long are you staying here then? —Until Technical is finished down here.

Then we'll see. They'll continue with the apartment later.

—Jenny? Are you coming? —See you.

—Hey. —Hey.

Okay.

Alright then.

Interrogation of Cecilia Karlsson—

—Saturday, May 22nd at 2:13 PM.

The name's Ricky, does that ring a bell?

—What do you mean? —Just answer the question.

Does that name ring a bell?

It might be a nickname for Rickard.

But you have no personal relationship with Ricky?

My dad called me Ricky when I was little.

I see. How did that happen?

They had two different name suggestions when I was born.

If it's a girl: Cecilia. If it's a boy: Ricky.

But Dad could never let it go and called me Ricky sometimes as a joke.

Did you ever call yourself Ricky or something?

What are you after?

How have you even found out all this?

Is that Josef?

What the fuck?

Is he here?

He's standing back there, isn't he?

Come on, you coward!

Are you standing there hiding? What the fuck did I do to you?

Can't you just leave me alone and go to hell?

Sit down quietly.

I mean, this is just completely insane.

Okay. Sure, uhh...

I called myself Ricky sometimes. Ridiculous.

Åsa became piggishly jealous of the name, so I stopped using it.

When then?

In middle school, sort of.

I don't understand. What does that have to do with anything?

Steinar.

Do you recognize it?

Yes, it looks like my dad's.

—Where did you get that? —Are you sure about that?

If you log in, it's a screenshot of a piece of jewelry—

—that my dad gave my mom as a wedding gift when they married.

—Do you know the password? —Uh, try "afterlife".

Lowercase, no spaces.

Alright, let's take a break here.

Here are the files from Vidar's goldsmith workshop.

The last file was last opened the day before yest—

—and has opened several times in the last few weeks. Should I run it?

—What are you doing here? —The code to the safe.

Give me the code, for fuck's sake!

The code! Or I'll kill you!

One, nine, eight, two.

Ulrika Kennerberg.

Åsa knew all along who was breaking into her father's workshop.

—Hi, Jenny. —Yeah, Åsa had a mobile...

One moment and then one more time. Wait.

Yes, Åsa had a mobile in her handbag in the apartment.

And some cash in my pocket. A... well, a cheap thing.

Try calling this contact. Ricky.

It's ringing here.

UNKNOWN NUMBER

So Åsa Karlsson called Per—Erik Stensson—

—and ordered the murder of the cleaning lady Ulrika Kennerberg.

Most likely to avenge his father's death.

And then we have nothing that suggests that Cissi Karlsson is involved.

So we just have to let her go.

So, that was it. For today. So you can go.

I just want you to know that my sister would never take her own life.

She would never do that to me.

—Hey, Cissi! —Hey.

Damn, I heard what happened.

I definitely didn't think you would come in today.

Let me know if there's anything you want me to do or if you need anything.

—Yes, a new life. And a hug. —Of course.

Hey, I have... I have a group that's coming here later.

—I cancelled them, I didn't think... —It's fine. God, it's fine.

It was probably for the best.

—Take that. —We're done here.

—Can I...? —Yes, god, take them. I'll manage here.

—You can leave later. —Yes. — Yes, I'm coming. What is it?

—Martin. Do you have a moment? —Sure. Just come in.

When Cissi Karlsson left, she said that she was completely convinced—

—that her sister hasn't killed herself.

So I asked Ayda to look into something and there is a surveillance camera—

—which is directly opposite Åsa Karlsson's door.

Here comes Åsa.

Look there now. A man walking through the gate after her.

—It could be anyone. —Yes, but wait a minute now.

—She's falling here. —Oh, my God.

Mm. But there's more. Look now.

—And there he comes out again. —Yes, exactly.

—It's the same man. —Who is that?

But, what the fuck?

I'm leaving now! Don't forget to lock up!

Hi. There's nothing we need to clear up or...

—Åsa didn't kill herself. —What?

She was probably pushed and Johan Kennerberg was there.

Excuse me, but... we're closed.

I am sorry. I should have locked the door.

I have already done that.

Cecilia Karlsson. Is that you?

Yes.

I killed your sister. And now it's your turn.

Because you did it together, didn't you?

You and your sister killed my daughter.

She was everything I had. You get it?

So... I threw your fucking sister over a balcony railing.

Come out now.

That way we'll put an end to this shit.

I'm at her job now, but she isn't answering.

It doesn't feel good at all. Send a car fucking fast.

Cissi!

Ow!

Cissi!

Police! Show yourselves and drop your weapons!

I don't know what my sister has done!

Cissi! Put down the weapon.

I don't know anything about your fucking daughter!

Cissi! Drop the weapon!

Then shoot.

Cissi! Drop the weapon.

Shoot then. Do it! It feels fucking good.

Police!

No, don't touch me!

Let go!

Thank you for coming.

It was at the last second, but absolutely.

I was unarmed. It could have gone any fucking way.

You were right. I lost my judgment.

I understand you.

So a daughter loses her father and lies to a murderer to seek revenge.

It leads to a father losing his daughter and becoming equally devastated.

So the other partner ordered the murder of Bruno Simonsson?

The first payment to Per-Erik Stensson came from his account.

He wanted to sell the shop and Bruno was in the way.

The second payment came from Åsa Karlsson. Also a quarter of a million.

It might sound like a lot, but it's incredibly cheap for a human life.

Welcome, everyone! So, I think we should eat, right?

—Dig in. You want one too, right? —Yes, absolutely.

—How lovely. —Has everyone received a refill?

—Shall we start with a splash? —Yes.

—All humans like the curve —No, up and stand.

all humans love a drink

may I, may I exchange pants with the lady

no, it is not possible at all, my lord no, it is not possible at all, my lord.

because I have, because I have no pants, unfortunately!

—Cheers, everyone! —Cheers!

—It landed! —Bravo, bravo.

—I'll set it up for you. —Yes, please.

—Who is it? —A friend of Martin's, I think.

—Don't you feel like we're intruding? —Drop it, it's lovely.

I thought you might want your dad all to yourself, without all of us.

I gave up on that a long time ago.

Is it possible to take Martin Beck out of the police force? Hardly.

But to take the police out of Martin Beck? No way, that's not happening.

—Are you talking about me? —No.

—Couldn't Josef join us today? —Uh, he... I actually don't know.

—Cheers. —Cheers.

—What is that...? —It's actually...

—No, no, no! —But, what the fuck.

—Hi. —Hi.

Come in.

Text: Thomas Jansson Scandinavian Text Service

Publisher: Anders Melin