Original subtitles

# Translated with google/gemma-4-26b-a4b #

You shot Tamaz! You shot Tamaz! You shot Tamaz!

You shot Tamaz! You shot Tamaz! You shot Tamaz!

No! Let go!

Murderous police! Murderous police!

Karim?

—Karim! Put your helmet back on. —They're right! We're just making it worse!

—Put on your helmet. —This is going to go to hell!

—Karim, look at me. —No, I can't.

You're getting out of here. We'll get you a car. Come on, let's get you a car.

Murderous police! Murderous police!

Get down! Get down! Down, down!

—Find that bastard! —Fucking pig!

—Good morning. —Good morning.

—Good morning. —Hi.

—Are you sitting here with the pacifists? —No way... Stop it.

What do you mean by "the pacifists"? Because they're sitting there protesting?

—No, I was joking. Calm down now. —You sound worse than her.

If we had lived in a society where people didn't react—

—when the police shoot an unarmed 14—year-old, I'd be fucking hilarious.

—I only mean that one can... —What's wrong with being a pacifist?

Nothing. The shooter has been suspended, the SA is investigating, the Prime Minister gave a speech.

That way they can't just... You saw what happened yesterday with the Molotov cocktail.

—Who got their face burned off yesterday? —Maria Modén.

I didn't know her very well, but we did say hello a few times.

—How is she doing? —I'm checking.

She is being treated at Karolinska, ICU, with third-degree burns to her face and hands.

—It's not just the police making mistakes here. —Did I even say that?

Can't you go do something useful? You don't have an investigation right now—

—but you know, employment, I can arrange that for you... like this.

—Can I take that as a promise? —No. As a threat.

Good morning.

—What? —Did I say something?

He's going to be on Nyhetsmorgon in a moment, if you want to watch.

—Who then? Martin, or? —No, not Martin.

—No, I get it. —Mhm.

Welcome, Klas Fredén, regional police chief, Stockholm.

The police are facing harsh criticism right now. How do you defend yourselves?

I truly feel for Tamaz Aghari's family.

What has happened is deeply unfortunate. But what we saw at the demonstrations—

—were police officers doing their jobs in a very vulnerable situation.

But witnesses say that you used batons against peaceful protesters.

What we have been able to see on this film that has been sent to us is...

We can look at it together. I want to warn you about strong images.

—What is it we're looking at? —It is very calm and peaceful.

Until an activist, completely unprovoked, attacks and injures a colleague.

Not until the perpetrator flees and other protesters obstruct the police—

—we are forced to resort to a certain amount of force strictly within the framework of the Police Act—

—to control the situation and arrest the perpetrator.

—But it didn't work. —No, unfortunately, he is at large.

We are working to find him.

It is a serious crime to attack the justice system.

It just feels so damn... unfair.

There are so many fucking bad cops out there.

But Maria is one of those who...

...really just wanted to help people.

She would... She wanted to, for my sake...

God damn it...!

If I hadn't flipped then she would never have...

Do you remember anything else about what happened?

It was very good that you came, Karim.

It's about time for us to wrap things up.

Shall we look at a new time next week?

—Are you under an obligation of confidentiality? —Yes.

Yes, the exception is of course if I become aware of a serious crime.

—Is there anything else, Karim? —No.

So now Emma wants me to go out every single night so you can be a parent.

—Flattering, isn't it? —Yes, right?

But if I may be a little curious... How is the IVF going?

—I'm so tired of talking about it. —Yeah, sorry, but...

Do you know what it's like living with someone who is on hormones all the time?

It's like, the fourth attempt.

—Everything's gone to hell again, then? —No. But it probably will soon.

But what, is it...?

Is that my sperm? I mean, you could say that.

Because they were energetic before, but maybe they have become sluggish.

—No, they're doing great still. —Okay.

But what... What is it?

But, I... I don't know if it's right.

—What about? —With Lina.

But you're going to... have children and stuff. Or what, then?

—I don't know if I'm in love with her. —In love, my ass...

You don't have to be. But it's your life. It's your life.

But don't be in too much of a hurry. It might be that you feel a lot—

—and she's feeling so much right now, and so you forget what you're supposed to feel.

So just think it through carefully so that things don't get... messy.

—Promise. —Okay.

Hey!

The trainees graduating today are experiencing a completely different reality—

—than you and I when we graduated.

It's gangs and violent crime and terrorism and—

—waning support from the public that we have also seen recently.

It wasn't any better before, Sverker. You're the only one with a bad memory.

—the 70s certainly weren't a picnic. —No, no, of course not.

But society is significantly more polarized today. That's just how it is.

We're going to need you here, Martin. A little contribution in your twilight years.

Hey, I'm not that old.

Old enough to be exempt from watching the pile of unsolved murders grow every week.

—Can I think about it for a few days? —Yes, yes. Think as long as you need.

You should visit your grandchild a little more often. It could be a reason.

—Absolutely. —Mhm.

But... yeah...

Give it a pull then.

Come on now, Kullgren. Give it some effort! Come on!

—Good! Nice. —Yeah, it worked in the end after all.

But what about then? I can't just let him go if he's armed.

If the person is aggressive or armed, limit his range of motion...

Here. Are you okay? Good.

—So. Okay. —How much should I charge, then?

Depends on the situation. You don't weigh that much, so go in with all your weight.

—Okay. I get it, I get it. —You'll have to fend for yourselves for a while.

Drive again, let's go!

—Wake up. What are you idling for? —Can I just breathe for ten seconds?

You're going to get a taste of this.

Shut up.

—Let's go one more time. —Can you leave me alone?

It's not racism to say that those in the suburbs should keep a better eye on their kids.

—So, are we just going to shut down the police then? —No, we shouldn't be so trigger-happy.

—Wait until you're in a live situation. —Yeah, against a 14-year-old.

—Vilhelm! Do you want a ride? —What are you doing here?

—I've talked a bit with Sverker. —The principal? You didn't fall asleep? He is...

—What a nice car you have! —Hop in. We're heading downtown anyway.

—Can Rebecka come along? —Yes. Hop in.

—It looked a bit cold waiting there. —Yeah, it's a bit chilly.

What the fuck is going on?

...protesters are obstructing the police, we will be forced to use a certain amount of force—

—entirely within the bounds of the police law to control the situation...

Quiet, Brit–Marie!

But stop barking! It's just a bus.

What the fuck is happening?! Huh?!

—Aren't we going to drive you all the way home? —No, this will be great. Thanks.

—Goodbye, Grandpa. —Bye.

—Take care, everyone. —Yeah, you too.

—Yes. Will you drive me home then? —I can absolutely do that.

—Do you still live at... —Excuse me.

Yes, it's Beck.

Where? Solna?

How many, you said?

Hello.

How are you?

Vilhelm... should have been on that bus.

God damn it, Martin...!

Do you really want to? You...?

—Absolutely. —Okay.

Come.

E4 and E20 are cordoned off. Tekniska is on the way too.

—Fuck, man, it's... —And no survivors? Fuck.

Yes, I've seen a lot, but this...?

—A terrorist attack or gang-related? —Bergström will be ready in a few hours.

Then we'll know more.

—Who were the first on the scene? —The two biggest losers in the corps.

—Kristiansson and Kvant. —What about them?

Steinar and I went for a round with them this spring and...

I had them moved from Norrmalm to Solna about seven, eight years ago.

They let a perpetrator get away to teach a youngster a lesson—

—which they thought had shown "disrespect toward an official"—

—so that a lustful killer got away and shot two more, one of them a witness.

—What, Kristiansson and...? —Kvant.

Ulf Kvant and Ellinor Kristiansson, these are my colleagues—

—Alex Beijer and Josef Eriksson, whom I believe you have met before.

—Are you going to sort out this mess? —Yes.

It'll probably end with community service for a few culture-enrichers, as usual.

Seven people have died. Can we try to take this a little seriously?

—Absolutely. What is it you need to know? —Where and when did you receive the alarm?

We just happened to roll by. Pure chance.

Saw the bus standing in the middle of the road so we stopped to take a look.

—Did you understand how bad it was then? —It was clear that it was illegal.

There was blood on... everywhere.

—And then you called for reinforcements? —No, not exactly.

—But it all went damn fast. —It doesn't take any time to pick up the phone...

Kristiansson noted the primary victim and thought we should check in.

But I assessed that it could be a continuing terrorist attack—

—or that someone was alive.

So I decided that we would evaluate the situation—

—and yes, intervene in... well, an intervenable situation.

Ulf thought that the perpetrators might still be there or that someone might be alive.

—So we searched the bus. —And what did you find?

—Everyone was... —Yeah, I mean, everyone was dead.

—You, uh, "the perpetrators"? —Yes?

You were the one who said "the perpetrators." Why do you think there were several?

We saw a motorcycle fleeing the scene the moment we arrived.

Two men approached. Dressed in black. Looked like military protesters.

Militant activists, perhaps?

Protestants are something else entirely.

Yes, this was Sebastian Öberg. And...

...this is Karim Sorhani, 37 years old. Also a police officer.

—Did you know anyone? —No.

Four hits. Neck, chest, abdomen. Aortic rupture, two vertebrae.

Yes, we will know more when we open. But you can see the patterns.

It wasn't an amateur who was shooting. All victims died relatively quickly.

—Two police officers, three trainees. —Yeah, well, that's probably no coincidence.

Revenge? For the dead boy or the attack on the demonstration?

This is the exception.

Sven Dahlberg. Has also been met by bullets from the same weapon.

But also from a different weapon with a larger caliber—

—and at shorter distances. Here you can see the exit holes.

—Like an execution. —Why did they shoot him in the shoulder?

—32 shots, that's what we're getting. —Oh, damn.

—More than one magazine. Two shooters, then? —Two weapons, at least.

—Footprints? —Yes, you can see how it looks.

—Her colleagues were stomping all over the place. —They thought the attack was ongoing.

You can understand that the adrenaline took over.

A fucking mess they had certainly made of it.

Terribly amateurish. One of them has emptied its magical contents.

I can understand that too.

If it is an attack, then it's a bit strange that no one has claimed responsibility.

About? It's fucking obvious. We need to get a warning out within the fraternity.

Do people think it's a targeted attack connected to the protests—

—it's going to be a fucking hell, I can tell you that much.

You. Do you recognize that guy over there?

—Who then? —The one with the beard.

The midlife crisis.

No. Who the hell is that?

I don't really know. I've seen him before.

—From the police? —You saw it?

On her, but you look like you work at the post office.

Oskar Bergman, murder mastermind, Stockholm. This is Jenny Bodén.

—Hubert. —May I greet you properly?

—You were so lovely! — What's her name? —Britt—Marie.

—Did you hear what happened at the bend? —I noticed it was some kind of misery.

Britt-Marie jumps up as soon as she hears someone driving by.

She yelled at the bus and the police car.

—Did you hear the shots too? —Yes, yes. Sure, sure, sure.

—Some motorcycle then? —No, I can't remember.

Kristiansson and Kvant.

—Look. —But I mean...

Anything to boast about?

Okay, guys, what do we have? Crime scene, witnesses, traffic cameras?

The nearest camera is 2 km away and there are many side roads and forest tracks.

Aside from Kristansson and Kvant, we only have the old man who heard the shots.

—We know it's being taken care of. —Someone heard something...

—But that doesn't give us any... —Listen, listen.

We have a difficult task ahead of us. That's how it is.

Despite extensive search efforts, we have no trace of the perpetrators.

So for the time being, we will have to look for possible motives among our victims.

Salman Bedouri, bus driver.

Sven Dahlberg, attorney. Karim Sorhani, police officer.

Viktor Palmgren, police officer. Sebastian Öberg, police trainee.

Martin Sundell, police trainee. And Josefine Svensson, police trainee.

Lawyer Dahlberg, who was shot with a different weapon, stands out.

It's a different type of ammunition and a completely different angle of fire. Check him out.

—Do we have any background on him? —He was a defense attorney, criminal law.

Defended members of the Södertälje— network. I can send you the file.

Did they shoot up a whole bus of police just to get to him?

The bus driver and the trainees are also less likely targets.

But we are looking at the colleagues. Viktor Palmgren, commanding officer in Stockholm—

—and worked extra at the police academy.

Karim Sorhani was at the city picket and drove out to the school and Viktor.

Both were ordered out to the demonstration.

Was Karim Sorhani at the city picket? Wasn't she the one who got burned by that?

—Maria. —I can look for a connection.

Yes, good. Who is the next of kin to Viktor Palmgren?

—His wife, Stine Palmgren. —Go and talk to her, Josef.

And then you find out why they were sitting together on the bus.

Yes. Let's get started.

—Martin? —Yes, yes.

I'm reading through Kvant and Kristiansson's report, I...

I don't know what to say.

"A motorcycle was seen leaving the scene, probably a 500cc"—

—"with the sitting two presumably non-Nordic men"—

—"in their 20s or 30s. All three Black."

"The events took place in darkness and were rapid, yet noted by the undersigned"—

—"that the perpetrator may have had a rectal piercing."

So then they clarify it later: the nose. So they probably meant "septum".

—Well, look! Vilhelm. —Can I speak with you about something?

Börje Järnlund, two years ago. I think it became picture of the year or something like that.

—You saw him out by the crime scene? —Mm, today.

There were many people, but it was strange that he was there mourning police officers.

Because he's against Nazis? Isn't that most people?

Yes, yes, but if you want to know what's happening on the left flank...

They're climate protesters and anti-racists and all that—

—but also some violence. And quite a lot of polish.

If there's anyone standing in the middle of all that, it's him.

Okay, I guess I'll just have a word with this Börje Järnlund, quite simply.

—Yes. Awake, Vilhelm. —Thanks.

Hey, can I tag along? And talk to Järnlund, I mean.

I was thinking of an internship, sort of.

You think you have some kind of inside track at the police station because of your grandfather?

A little.

—Hi. Jenny Bodén. —Was that you who called?

Yes. It's lovely that I could come.

—Elsa Wallin. Welcome. —Thank you.

I have gone through all his clients, every case he lost.

Of those who could be dangerous, one is dead and three are in prison.

But as for him here, he could have sent someone—

—but he's in solitary, so...

I mean, Sven was so damn nice.

Fair and treated everyone well.

We don't know if Sven was the target.

Maybe he was just in the wrong place at the wrong time.

God, it's good to hear.

—Sorry. Is that weird? —No.

Do you want anything? I think I need a whisky.

Are you sure you don't want anything?

—She is drifting in and out of consciousness. —Yes. Okay.

There are many who think of her.

—I'll wait here until she wakes up. —Okay. Hi.

Hey, hey.

No, damn it. Nothing organized or polished exists among us.

"The autonomous left" means exactly that.

Hundreds of small groups and people who are not organized at all.

They are anti-fascists, anti-racists, anti-capitalists.

—But no, we are not violent. —Most of you.

Idiots are everywhere, after all. But you know that, don't you?

Mm.

Hey, there's a picture of you when you're fighting some...

—Nazis, yes. —Yes.

I would do it again if necessary.

Tolerance toward everyone, except for the intolerant.

I would love to punch a bastard like that in the face again.

You were at the crime scene and left flowers today. Why?

—Yes, seven people died there. How so? —No other reason?

No, what would that be, you mean?

—What did you think of him then? —Yeah, what was your impression?

He was a pretty chill guy, but did you see his tattoo?

ACAB. "All cops are bastards."

—Ah, Martin! —Hi.

—That was horrific on the bus. —Yes, truly.

But I don't hear any protests about it.

No public outcry. I'm just noting it.

If we make a mistake, however, then...oh, oh, oh, oh, oh!

No... I shall attend the boy's funeral, of course.

Show my participation and all that.

But what was he doing out there? In that area? In the middle of the night?

Where is the parents' responsibility? That is all I am wondering.

Do you have to talk to Stine right now? I mean, really?

—Yes, we have to know who... —Isn't that obvious?

Isn't it enough that they're throwing stones and setting cars on fire?

They are going to murder everyone trying to save the society that was safe and fine.

I understand that Viktor and Karim were classmates. Is that correct?

Did they hang out privately?

Stine, I'm asking because I want to know—

—why Viktor and Karim were sitting next to each other on the bus.

If there's anything you can help me with, something small. Anything at all.

I was mad at him.

I was angry because he came home so late from the demonstration.

But he just went into the restroom. He called someone.

So I asked him who he was talking to, and then he said it was Karim.

She is important. I can feel it. She knows something.

—Why do you think that? —The card from Karim and a gut feeling.

Oskar, we got off an hour ago. I have to make time for my life too.

Yeah, yeah. Absolutely.

But you're there in case she says something important.

Are you and Lina meeting up, or what? In that case, I get it.

You have to nurture the relationship. But I'm here, so it's fine.

—Okay, good. —But good luck. Or with... Yeah.

—Thanks. —Talk soon.

Sorry, I had to. It was work.

Maria, can you hear me?

Maria, you're in the hospital. Do you know why?

My name is Oskar Bergman. I am also a police officer.

I would need to ask you a few questions.

Do you know what happened?

Ka...Karim...

—Another one? You want another one? —Yes, okay, okay.

Uh, I just have to...

Oskar, it's time. Oskar?

—Yes? Is it time, then? —Yes. Where is Jenny?

Uh, she, uh... I don't know. But can you listen to this?

It's Maria Modén. I'm having a bit of trouble hearing what she's saying.

She didn't know that Karim Sorhani was dead, so she became very...

It didn't make it any easier to hear what she said after that, but...

Karim...

...lost it. As in, "Karim lost it."

—Cocky? Or... —I don't know if that can be used.

—No. I'll give it another chance. —Yes, good, good. Then let's go.

—Josef. Viktor Palmgren? —Yes.

The widow confirms that Viktor and Karim knew each other, but did not socialize.

Viktor came home from the demonstration, locked himself in the bathroom—

—and spoke on the phone with Karim. What they were talking about, she didn't know.

According to the psychologist he met—

—Karim asked about the scope of her confidentiality, but did not want to disclose anything.

We also know that Karim and Maria Modén knew each other.

After seeing the psychologist, he goes up to the hospital—

—greets her and leaves a note: "I'm going to nail those bastards."

Good morning. Sorry. I overslept.

—Yes, you look... very well-rested. —Yes. Thank you.

Okay, Ayda, do we have any leads on the motorcycle and the guys?

No. That description is weak. But I have two things from Forensics.

We're going to examine Karim Sorhani's body, and the ammunition analysis has come in.

The 30 shots were common 5.56 mm.

But the stray shots are very interesting.

Two Speer Gold Dot 9 mm. I mean...

—Our service ammunition? —Yes, exactly.

They are quite unusual otherwise.

It cannot be possible.

—What? —Those two.

No. What if we were to head out and grab some food?

—Hey. —Hey.

—How can you think about food? —But really.

Forget about that now.

We're heading to Palmyra Kebab. In Årsta.

The portions are fucking huge.

But we're leaving soon. Shouldn't we eat somewhere in Solna?

Damn, what are you going to keep arguing about. What about the pizza place then?

No sushi or that kind of shit today.

I mean, I don't understand how you can... I can only think about and only see...

Shut up!

Look, you need to get a grip. You have to let that go.

Are you going to sulk now? Huh? You think so fucking much all the time.

Yes, I know.

Can you stop thinking for a moment so we can go and eat? Huh?

Okay.

What the fuck...?

—It's clearly stated in the report. —I see. Then you'll have to tell me again.

You passed the spot, the bus was on the road...

—We stopped. The doors were open... —Then we saw the motorcycle driving away.

Before I ask the next question, you must make one thing clear—

—that all ammunition that was fired is in such good condition—

—that it will be compatible with a potential weapon.

That being said...

Was any of you, for whatever reason—

—who fired their weapon inside the bus?

No.

Hell!

These two idiots must be taken out of service immediately!

And they are to be reported to the SU! Do I have any say in anything in the future—

—so they will never again work as police officers!

"I felt him moving behind my back, and I became afraid."

So she shoots him! Reassuring, isn't it?

If a mass murderer has accidentally left one of their victims alive—

—then the Swedish police will come and finish the job!

Fuck!

So this is Karim Sorhani's arm?

—That must mean something. —Sure. Or it did for him.

—The interesting part is what's underneath it. —It's a cover-up?

Made to cover an older tattoo. Cheaper than removing it.

"All cops are bastards."

What makes someone go from being a police trainee to applying to the police academy?

People may change.

That much? The Riot Squad, of all fucking places.

—But what if that was exactly it then? —What?

If he was an infiltrator in the patrol and fighting against his old friends.

No one would suspect him there.

If someone wants to get to us, it's not the worst idea to start from within.

I want to know more about Karim.

Karim Sorhani grew up in Alby.

He skated and spray-painted graffiti and hung out a lot in Gula Villan, you know.

—Where Alex was. —Yes.

Guess who worked as a youth leader during the years Karim was there.

Uh... Is that Börje Järnlund?

—Hi, Börje. —We'd like to talk to you.

Mhm.

Yes, my wife works from home, so we can probably talk somewhere else.

Yes, we can take this in the stairwell if you want. De—oh!

—Yes, yes. —Thanks.

—Hi. —This is Kitty.

Maybe she can work in the small salon.

We each had a rental apartment that was converted into condominiums.

Yes, we were lucky, plain and simple.

That's just how it looks in this fucking society.

You, one of the police officers who died in the bus was named Karim Sorhani.

Here is a picture of his arm and a tattoo.

—I see. —Can we take a look at your arm, Börje?

Am I a suspect for something? Do you think I killed seven people on a bus?

—Did you know Karim? —I don't need to talk to you.

—Why didn't you say that when we met? —I know exactly how you people work.

If you want to frame someone, then do it.

You used to work at the Yellow Villa, where Karim was also around a lot.

Your tattoos are similar. It can't be a coincidence. Right?

—Did you know Karim? —I want you to leave here now.

If I'm suspected of something, arrest me.

That one. The 25th.

—You're welcome. Good luck. —Thanks.

No.

Fuck. Now I'm done with this.

Can I try once?

Knock yourself out!

—Yes, she speaks Finnish. —What?

Ka...Karim...

—Yes, Oskar? —Her mother was born in Finland.

—Whose mother? —Maria's. The one I recorded.

I've had it translated. Karim visited her and there's some footage.

—There are quite a few movies here. —Take them all.

So Karim Sorhani had, in effect, hundreds of hours of footage—

—on a Kitty Ötterwall who is Börje Järnlund's wife?

She was some kind of punk queen out in Gula Villan 20 years ago.

Yeah, I shouldn't have written off the Maria track. You cracked it, after all.

—Martin heard it was Finnish. —We helped each other.

The main thing is that we are moving forward. — Josef.

Yes. You take the punk queen, and I'll take the cop.

Martin, you might feel like helping Ayda a little bit in there?

Yes...

—Coffee? —No thanks.

—Kitty. Is your name Katarina? —Uh, no. Kitty.

Okay.

—Do you know why you're here? —No.

I understand that you and Karim Sorhani knew each other quite well.

Is it about Karim?

This is now the third time we've talked to you.

New information emerges every time.

That's exactly the kind of thing you react to as a cop.

So let's start from the beginning.

Did you know any of the passengers on bus 526?

—I don't need to talk to you. —Sooner or later, you will have to.

We'll take it from the top. Did you recognize any of the passengers?

We knew him, both Börje and I. Though that was 20 years ago.

—How did you meet him? —Yes, we met out at the Villa.

I played in a band.

I messed up with Karim a few times—

—and he was probably more in love with me than I was with him.

So what happened then?

When I got together with Börje, he became damn jealous.

So he ran. Then he suddenly started police academy.

I remember thinking that it was strange.

—He was far too sensitive. —Mm.

Karim said he was going to set someone up.

—That everything was on film. —Did he say that?

—Do you know anything about any movie? —Who did he say that to?

How so? Is there a movie?

Yes.

Did Karim have any of them? Old recordings from Gula Villan.

You know what I think? That you know more than you're letting on.

Don't you want Karim's murder to be solved?

I don't think you want to sort this out. Not for real.

You're creating a conflict just to justify yourselves.

—You're destroying evidence, you... —What do you mean by that?

What the fuck? There is a movie that shows what actually happened.

At the protest the other day.

It's about things that are happening now. Not 20-year-old shit.

—And what is in that movie, then? —You should know that.

—What? —Yes, you confiscated it.

To cover up what happened. Or?

We know the guy who filmed it and he's staying in hiding—

—because he is terrified of you.

—For us? —Yes. For the police, yes.

—And what is his name? —No.

What is his name?

Who was it that was filming, Börje? Just give me a name.

We need to check for confiscated phones from the demonstration.

—And find the person who filmed it. —I think I know someone who can help us.

An old acquaintance. Out at the Yellow Villa.

Okay?

So then this has nothing to do with the old films?

Maybe someone should tell that to Ayda.

—There's the cops, damn it. We're out of here. —Yeah, hell yeah.

Cuties!

But, for fuck's sake! Martin Beck!

Satan!

Can you all be a little quiet over there?

—That damn well wasn't yesterday. —No.

Oh really? And a fancy visit. The monopoly on violence.

—Alex Beijer. —Micke Gullis.

—How do you know each other? —Yeah, how do we know each other?

Like this.

—Do you see the shed out there? —No, please, no...

Yeah, yeah, yeah. This is the first outhouse here. Built in 1976.

I got the boards. Martin nailed it together.

—But, Martin! —Were you...?

Yes, this used to be an old Folkets Park. It was supposed to be demolished and...

—Then we moved in. —Yeah, the place was vacant.

Yes.

—I mean, Martin, I've missed you. —But you have indoor toilets now.

—Yes. That is true. —Hey, Gullis.

I need your help.

Do you know anything about a mobile phone that was confiscated during the riots?

And what about a movie that was in it?

But it's that very film that your police chief—

—this Fredén has been all over TV several times.

But someone has cut into it. The end is gone.

And what is it that's been cut out, you mean?

Evidence that the police know who threw the Molotov cocktail. None of us.

They had let him through and then let him get away.

Do you know who filmed it?

Yes, now it is such that those who are here—

—has taken more of a beating from you than help.

Yes...

This is Tore.

—Hey, Tore. Was that you filming? —Mm.

And what happened?

Yeah, the cops beat me down and took my phone.

Did you see any id— number on a helmet or uniform?

—You guys usually keep an eye on that. —No, I didn't.

If you saw him in a photo, would you recognize him then?

Her. I mean, it was a female.

Maybe.

—I can't do this. —Of course you can.

Maybe the shutdown is a good thing. That way you can recover a bit.

I need to talk to someone.

What, talk? You can talk to me.

Mm.

No, that's your problem.

If you contact me again, there will be consequences.

I hope we understand each other.

Nasty.

—Which of that? —All of it.

There is a funeral tomorrow for that boy the police shot. Tamaz.

—Are you leaving? —No, no, no.

I think you should do that. Yes, they need to see you ashamed.

The regional police chief will be there. Fredén, you know.

Ha! Him? He's probably eating an ice pop, right?

No. What that family needs to see is—

—that the police have a human face.

And I have been standing and staring at that face over this railing for 25 years.

—Cheers, Martin. —Cheers.

—You have nothing to drink. —One should be careful with spirits.

It poisons the body. Weakens the spirit.

—Buns for breakfast, then? —I don't eat buns. — Ayda?

It's an iPhone 8 we're looking for. Cracked screen and marks on the case.

—Karl, not Groucho. —I understood that.

No.

Hey.

Here I come with some coffee and snacks. It's just...

And it's none of these?

Sometimes you wonder what the fuck you're doing.

—If you've chosen the right profession. —Give it a rest.

You don't want inheritance from someone who can't tell Swedish from Finnish.

—Stop it now. You're a damn good cop. —But you don't have to.

There is nothing wrong with your genes. I am terrified. Okay?

I'm not ready to have children.

I guess we should start by getting a dog or something.

Fast babies don't bark at every fucking...

Follow me. Something is not right.

What?

It's really hard. I saw her for a few seconds and she was masked.

Are you taking over here? I just have to intercept Fredén. Thanks.

—Thanks, Tore. —Yes, thanks.

—Could it be one of them? —No.

Alex! I've checked all the logged seizures from the demonstration.

Nothing matches Tore's phone. Either the kid is lying, or...

Or maybe it was never turned in. Good. Thanks.

Bun?

—No, no bun. —I'll have one.

Yes...

No. Not these either.

But. Did we have something booked now? Because I was just on my way out.

That film from the protest that you went out with.

Where did you get that from? It has connections to my investigation.

To the bus massacre? What do you mean?

It came from a phone that was seized during the riots.

—It hasn't been logged as it should have been. —That was strange.

Where did you get that from?

I don't see any reason to inform you of that.

The film has been manipulated. Edited down.

You're not going to accuse me of withholding investigation material, are you?

I don't know. Yet. I'll get back to you about that matter.

—Hey, sorry I couldn't... —It's okay. It's not easy.

—Have you found my phone? —No, not yet.

It's so fucking typical. Mom is completely pissed at me, seriously.

No, nothing.

—So. —But what the fuck?

What do you mean?

—It was him. I'm absolutely sure. —Him?

But you've been saying all this time that it was a woman.

Who took my phone, yeah. But this is the guy who threw the bomb.

Wait a minute. How do you know that? His face was covered, after all.

Yes, first. But another officer at the cordon tore the mask off him.

Okay. Thanks, Tore. Come on.

Hey, now I want the numbers for Kristiansson and Kvant all at once.

Okay. What does this mean? Provided he isn't full of shit.

—That idiot Kvant threw the bomb. —Yeah, but why?

—I don't fucking know, Josef. —I thought Ulf Kvant was a joke.

Mm. This reeks of Fredén from a mile away.

—No one's fucking answering. Address? —Byälvsvägen 16, Bagarmossen.

There's something that has been bothering me since we were last here.

With what the dog did between the shots and the sirens.

—Yeah, nothing, he said. —Yeah. Isn't that a bit strange?

Think back. When did Kristiansson and Kvant pass by here?

What do you want now, then?

Hi! Brit—Marie, hi! Come on then! Yes, come on then! Hi.

I have a few questions.

You said that Britt-Marie scolds everything.

Yeah, yeah. Everything passing by.

—When did the police car drive past here? —Yes, that was before the shots.

We have to stick together, you understand? We're in this together.

I'm doing this for us.

But it wasn't me. It was you, Ulf.

You shot him, the lawyer. You are just as guilty as I am.

—But you were the one who forced me. —What is it that you don't understand?

If Viktor had barked, Fredén would have sacrificed us immediately. Right?

You and I aren't worth a damn!

No. That's just how it is.

For 25 years, I've been sitting in a fucking patrol car.

Struggled. Defended this society.

While other bastards have made careers for themselves. Klas Fredén. Martin Beck. Fuck.

Beck destroyed our lives when we were doing our job. What?

They're spitting on us. But you don't realize that.

Even though we're the ones out on the street taking the shit. I hate them.

I hate them!

Yes?

Viktor Palmgren and Kristiansson were the ones standing by the police tape.

Then it was Kristiansson who took down Tore.

—Kvant has a weapon permit for an AK5. —Well, what the fuck is this?

Kvant has a weapon permit for an AK5. He is a competitive shooter.

Yes?

Hi. We are out with the witness in Solna, the one with the dog. Listen.

The police car drove past before the shots were fired.

First the bus, then the police car, then the shots, then everyone with sirens.

—So no perpetrator on a motorcycle. —Then Kristiansson and Kvant shot.

—Yes. Where are you? —Outside Kvant. Drive to Kristiansson.

—We're not going in without reinforcements. —But for fuck's sake, he lives here.

Please, Ulf.

Can't we just call someone? Then you can talk to someone and explain.

Are you fucking brain dead? Who the fuck am I supposed to call? Beck, or what?

Everything is going to hell for me, everything is going to hell for him too.

—Police! —Police!

—One done! —Two done!

The third one's done!

—Number four clear! —Apartment secure!

He isn't here, Oskar.

—Police! —Police!

—Person on the sofa! —Sit still! Sit still!

Apartment secured!

You have to stop him! He's going to do something insane.

—Where is he? —I don't know. He hates you all.

We have Kristiansson. Lys Kvant.

Hi.

Well. Then it was time.

Showtime.

They wanted him to infiltrate the demonstration to cause trouble.

—Move the focus away from the dead boy. —Who wanted that?

Someone high up. He didn't want to say who.

But the Molotov cocktail, that was his own idea.

And it wasn't intended to hit anyone.

We had planned that he would arrive there on the side street where I was standing.

And an old colleague stood with me. Bengtsson.

But then he was suddenly replaced, and then came Viktor Palmgren.

And he knew nothing.

Suddenly Uffe came running and I didn't have time to explain.

Kristiansson! Kristiansson!

And then that guy just stood there filming everything.

I got hold of the guy's phone, but Palmgren saw that it was Ulf.

Stick! Go to hell, damn it.

We tried to explain it to Palmgren, but it didn't go so well.

Uffe got paranoid about having to talk to someone. So we kept an eye on him.

What the fuck are they doing? Huh?

And when we saw him with Karim that night, we thought it was all over.

That they would report us. I tried to calm him down.

But it was impossible.

He goes into a spin sometimes and he's unreachable.

We drove on until the houses ran out. Then he forced the bus to stop.

Had he brought the weapon for this?

He always had it with him.

I should have told someone a long time ago.

She must have noticed that he was having problems.

—Why didn't she say anything? —Love.

Him, that lawyer... He wasn't quite dead.

—But shoot then, you cow! —No, no. No!

Get a grip, for fuck's sake!

So I shot him.

He would have died anyway, wouldn't he?

Help us find Ulf now. Tell me more about him.

He hates all the police officers who have made a career of it. Beck, Fredén.

—The funeral. Hell! —Alex!

Murderer police! Murderer police! Murderer police!

Pull yourself together, Martin. It could have been worse.

It could have been your funeral.

The police are murderers!

Martin! Take cover!

Police!

Lie down!

—Are you okay? —Yeah, I'm fine, no harm done.

Oof. Oh, oh, oh. That was a close one.

Hello?

Thank you very much. Tolerance for all, except the intolerant.

Something like that.

—Börje Järnlund. —Martin Beck.

Yeah, I know. The Dass builder.

Oh fuck, what a story. Insane.

Yes, it's no wonder that people are losing faith in the system.

So where did Tore's mobile phone go?

Kristiansson claims that she gave it to Kvant, who isn't saying anything yet.

But who would have told him to provoke a fight?

Yeah, well. We'll probably never know.

—Will you drive me home? —Absolutely.

—Hey, Ville. You've got a sharp eye. —Thanks.

Listen everyone, I have some joyful news.

I want your reports on my desk before you go home.

Sorry.

—Coffee? —No thanks.

No, I can't sleep then.

So, have you broken up with Lina now, or what?

No. Not yet.

But I have to do it. Tonight, maybe.

What's happening to my little swimmers? Are they going down the drain then, or what?

—But you already have children. —Yes, but...

Emma is starting to get big now and like, it...

It would have been fun to be part of the trip, you know.

Maybe sniff it a little on the neck.

I've always been annoyed by how much Mom worries about me.

I know. It has always been that way. Suspenders, seatbelts, bicycle helmets.

Yes.

But I don't think I've understood until just now, like—

—how dangerous this job is.

It was pretty close there, you know. For both you and me.

Have you regretted it?

No, quite the opposite. The more I see how many bad cops there are—

—the more certain I become that I want to be a truly fucking good one.

So, I suppose now is the time for you to say which fantastic role model you've had?

Is it now? Alex, are you thinking that?

Were you planning to... You thought...

—Eat! —Okay.

So, what are you going to do now?

—I think I'm going home. —Me too.

Or I could just go and have a glass of wine somewhere.

—See you tomorrow then. —Yes.

Hi, hi.

You?

Isn't it a little sad to drink wine alone?

Yeah. But you're pretty pathetic.

—Thanks for the ride. —No problem.

—But hey, listen. Come on now. —Yeah. I guess you have to mourn a little?

I mean, I'm like home. I'm just going to...

Wait, wait. What did you just say?

What do you mean, are you sure?

But, you... Li... Have you ta...

If I'm happy?

What? Of course... It's obvious that I'm happy.

What did she say?

What did she say?

Text: Thomas Jansson Scandinavian Text Service

Publisher: Anders Melin