The Beige Man (37 page)

“There were indeed files on genealogy. And on the house in Thailand. But above all there was a huge amount of pornography. All kinds of pornography! The most hardcore, the most disgusting variations you can imagine.”

He ran a hand over his face, as if to brush away the images flickering before his mind’s eye.

“I’d appreciate it if you could send the laptop down to us. It could contain evidence. And we can help you to clean it if you want it back.”

“No thanks. I never want to see it again.” He shook his head. Then he said thoughtfully, “I always thought he was strange. I never really liked him. Mom always said he was a man with a small face.”

“Interesting expression. What did she mean?”

“That Torleif was so ordinary. He wasn’t the kind of person you really notice. There was nothing to make him stand out in a crowd. He was kind of beige, if I can put it that way. But if you looked more closely at him, he had his little quirks. Vegetarian. Clean living. Pedantic. Mean. And according to Mom, he didn’t really have a sense of humor. A mediocre guy with a slightly odd personality. But I never thought he was capable of something like this.”

“No. Nor did anyone else.”

Thomas Ekström, Superintendent with the Police Authority in Västra Götaland, LKP / Trafficking. It was extremely useful to learn what the situation in the market for sex slavery is like in Sweden today and how the police in Göteborg are working to combat human trafficking.

Leif Johansson, head of Children and Young People’s Services, and Kristina Andersson, coordinator, both with the Swedish Migration Board. They helped me to gain an insight into how cases involving asylum-seeking children with no known relatives are handled.

Lena Krönström, a teacher in Sunne who is of Estonian origin. She helped me with appropriate Estonian names for some of my characters.

As usual I have taken considerable liberties with geographical facts. I do not adapt my narrative to suit the existing geography; reality is adapted to fit the story instead. All resemblance to any person living or dead is coincidental and not the intention of the author. The sole exception is Sammie, who is my own dog. He continues to remain indifferent to literary fame and takes life as it comes.

Helene Tursten