Fear Of Broken Glass

Almquist Meets Lindgren

Rotor blades whipped the air to a frenzy. Ripples cascading down his trousers, Almquist nodded to Elin then thanked the pilot, before running out, hand on his blue police cap on head. He made for Oskar Lindgren waiting a dozen paces from the victim's car and murmured a greeting, then looked over his shoulder to see the helicopter rise. Engines whining, it rose unsteadily. Elin Vikland waved a farewell before it banked away, heading out over the beach. Almquist waited, watching it fly over the still dark waters of Tiveden lake, then glancing up at the gloom of the afternoon sky made for the sleek black BMW.

Lindgren reached inside, removing a small package wrapped in black plastic and offered it to him. 'We thought you'd enjoy the honor of opening it. Found it in the left rear panel. Merry Christmas.'

Almquist took it, weighing it in his hands. It was light.

'Prints?'

'The driver's. And others.'

'Get what you can.' Almquist removed himself and stood up, placing the package on the low roof of the coupé, the light rain making small impact sounds on the soft plastic.

It was rectangular, half an arm in height and half of that in width. He turned it over, pulling off the duct tape. He repeated the procedure for all the taped edges, stretching the plastic until it thinned, applying pressure until it tore. He looked for a moment, a frown creasing his forehead, raising a hand to rub his beard for a moment before offering it to Oskar Lindgren. Lindgren tore off the last of the plastic, letting it fall to ground as he held up a small canvas. He breathed out once, heavily from his nose and looked across at Almquist with a look of wonder.

***

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