addition to a stricter immigration policy, you want to work towards instituting more severe sentences for criminals.’
Holm stretched as if to ease the muscles in his back.
‘Yes. It’s scandalous how lenient we are here in Sweden. Under our proposed policies, criminals will no longer get away with a mere slap on the wrist. Within the party itself we’ve also set a high standard, especially since we’re fully aware that historically we’ve been linked to a number of … well, undesirable elements.’
Undesirable elements. That was certainly one way of expressing it, thought Kjell, but he purposely didn’t comment. It sounded as though he was on his way to getting Holm precisely where he wanted him.
‘We’ve got rid of all the criminal elements on our parliamentary rosters, and we’re putting into practice a zero-tolerance policy. For instance, everyone has to sign an ethics oath, and all legal convictions, no matter how far they date back, must be revealed. No one with a criminal past is allowed to represent the Friends of Sweden.’ Holm leaned back, crossing his legs.
Kjell let him feel secure for a few more seconds before he placed the list on the table.
‘Why is it that you don’t make the same demands of people who work in the party’s government offices? No less than five of your co-workers have a criminal background. We’re talking about convictions for domestic abuse, intimidation, robbery, and assault on a civil servant. For example, in 2001 your press secretary was convicted of kicking an Ethiopian man to the ground at the marketplace in Ludvika.’ Kjell pushed the list closer, so that it was right in front of Holm. An angry flush was now visible on the party leader’s throat.
‘I don’t take part in the job interviews or day-to-day operations in the offices, so I can’t comment on this issue.’
‘But since you’re the one who’s ultimately responsible for staff hired by the party, shouldn’t this matter end up on your desk, regardless of whether or not you’re in charge of the practical details?’
‘Everyone has the right to a second chance. For the most part, we’re talking about youthful sins.’
‘A second chance, you say? Why should your staff members deserve a second chance when the same doesn’t apply to immigrants who commit a crime? According to your party, they ought to be deported as soon as they’re convicted.’
Holm clenched his jaw, giving his face an even more chiselled look.
‘As I said, I’m not involved in the hiring process. I’ll have to get back to you on this.’
For a few seconds Kjell considered pressing Holm further on this point, but time was running out. At any moment Holm might decide that he’d had enough and terminate the interview.
‘I have a few personal questions as well,’ Kjell said instead, referring to his notes. He’d actually committed to memory all the questions that he wanted to ask, but he knew from experience that it had an unsettling effect on the person he was interviewing if he seemed to have everything in writing. The printed word evoked a certain respect.
‘You’ve previously stated that your involvement in immigration issues started when you were twenty years old and two African students attacked and beat you. They were studying for the same degree as you were at the university in Göteborg. You reported the incident to the police, but the investigation was abandoned, and then you had to see those students every day in class. For the rest of your university years, those two sat and jeered at you, and by extension, at Swedish society as a whole. The latter is a direct quote from an interview you gave Svenska Dagbladet this past spring.’
Holm nodded solemnly. ‘Yes, that was an episode that had a strong impact on me and shaped my view of the world. It was a clear demonstration of how society functions and how Swedes have been demoted to second-class citizens while an indulgent attitude is shown to those we’ve been naive enough to welcome here from the rest of the world.’
‘Interesting.’ Kjell cocked his head. ‘I’ve checked up on this incident, and there are several things that are a bit … odd.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘First, there is no such report in the police files. And second, there were no African students enrolled in the same degree programme as you. In fact, there were no African students whatsoever at Göteborg University when you were studying there.’
Kjell watched as Holm’s Adam’s apple rose and fell.
‘You’re wrong. I remember the whole thing quite clearly.’
‘Isn’t it more likely that your views stem from the place where you grew up? I have information indicating that your father was a fervent Nazi sympathizer.’
‘I can’t comment on what my father’s views might have been.’
A quick glance at his watch showed Kjell that he had only five minutes remaining. He felt a mixture of annoyance and satisfaction. The interview hadn’t produced any concrete results, but it had been a pleasure to knock Holm off balance. And he wasn’t planning to give up. This was merely round one of the fight. He was going to keep digging until he found something that would bring John Holm down. He might need to meet with him again, so it would be better to wind up the interview now with a question that had nothing to do with politics. He smiled.
‘I understand that you were a pupil at the boarding school on Valö when that family disappeared. I wonder what really happened back then.’
Holm glared at him and then abruptly got to his feet. ‘The hour is up, and there are a lot of things demanding my attention. I assume that the two of you can find your own way out.’
Kjell’s journalistic instincts had always been good, and Holm’s unexpected reaction pushed his brain into overdrive. There was something related to this topic that Holm didn’t want him to know about. Kjell could hardly wait to get back to the editorial office and start poking around to find out what it might be.
‘Where’s Martin?’ Patrik looked at his colleagues seated around the table in the station’s kitchen.
‘He called in sick,’ said Annika, sounding evasive. ‘But I have his report on what he found out about the finances and insurance.’
Patrik glanced at her but didn’t ask any questions. If Annika didn’t want to tell them what she knew, they’d have to resort to torture to get anything out of her.
‘And I have the old investigative materials here,’ said Gösta, pointing at several thick manila folders on the table.
‘That was fast,’ said Mellberg. ‘It usually takes ages to find things in the archives.’
There was a long pause before Gösta replied. ‘I had them at home.’
‘You keep archival materials in your house? Are you out of your mind, man?’ Mellberg jumped up from his chair, and Ernst, who had been lying at his feet, sat up with his ears pricked. He barked a few times but then decided that everything seemed calm enough, and he lay back down.
‘Once in a while I review the files, and it got to be too much trouble, running to the archives every time. Besides, it’s just as well I already had the files out – otherwise we wouldn’t have them here now.’
‘How bloody stupid can you be!’ Mellberg went on, and Patrik could see that it was time to intervene.
‘Sit down, Bertil. The important thing is that we have access to the material. We can discuss any disciplinary measures later.’
Mellberg grumbled something but reluctantly complied. ‘Have the techs started work yet?’
Patrik nodded. ‘They’re breaking up the entire floor and collecting samples. Torbjörn has promised to contact us as soon as he knows anything.’
‘Can anyone tell me why we should be wasting time and resources when the statute of limitations has already expired?’ said