Raid and the Blackest Sheep Read Online Free Page B

the shooting occurred, there were about twenty people in the casino, but all had fled before the police arrived. Only the wounded were left.
         As soon as Nygren’s condition had stabilized, Jansson interrogated him, but to no avail. The other victim had kept his mouth shut as well. The case had remained unsolved and had often troubled Jansson over the years.
         Nygren’s rakish style and sense of humor had made an impression on Jansson. In a way, he was a kind of gentleman criminal with his own moral code, which he stuck to.
         In Jansson’s opinion, Nygren wasn’t violent, though he’d been involved in a couple of big cases. He was a suspect in a Stockholm robbery three years earlier, in which eight million kronor were stolen from the central train station. Sufficient evidence against Nygren was never found.
         “I don’t think I’ll be of much help,” Jansson replied.
         “Alright if I call you back when we find out more?” Kempas asked.
         “Suit yourself.”
         “Get better.”
         “You too.”
         Dressed in his best, Jansson crossed the hall and knocked on Huusko’s door. Huusko was still in his underwear with a towel around his neck. A half-empty bottle of vodka and a barely-touched bottle of grapefruit juice were on the table.
         “Help yourself.”
         “Apparently you’ve already helped yourself to a few.”
         “Working on the third, all pretty weak.”
         Huusko’s clothes were uniformly scattered across the floor. By his carefree organizational system, it was easy to tell he was still a bachelor.
         Jansson took the clothes that were spread out on the chair, piled them on the bed and sat down.
         Huusko put on a pair of tight black jeans. The scar from his heart surgery seemed to have been cut with a scythe. Despite his unhealthy eating habits, Huusko’s upper body was as muscular as any athlete’s. Huusko noticed Jansson sizing him up enviously, and he flexed his right bicep.
         “Solid steel!”
         “Right, right…”
         Huusko did a few shadowboxing steps, parried and counter-punched, then calmed down and pulled on a dark-blue jean shirt. He stopped to appraise Jansson’s outfit.
         “Skipper look? Nice try, but the cowboy look is in right now. Check out my genuine Texas boots—and don’t drool.”
         “Kempas called.”
         “Let’s forget work, huh?”
         “He asked about Raid.”
         Huusko didn’t seem to be listening. He finished off his shot of vodka, then poured the rest into a plastic flask.
         “C’mon, let’s go.”
         The veterans were at the table rehashing World War II. They had just gotten through the Battle of Summa and were starting into the Battle of Ihantala, the largest battle in Nordic history. There, Finnish forces had halted a Soviet advance despite being outnumbered three to one.
         Jansson said hello to a few of the vets he’d gotten to know. The taxi was already waiting outside the door.
         One fellow who’d been in the spa with Jansson noticed the taxi.
         “You boys off to the dances?”
         “We’re coming too,” said another.
         “You guys stick around and hold down the fort,” said Huusko.
         “I hear they’re supposed to have a live band tonight,” said Jansson’s friend.
         The dance floor was open every night, but only on Wednesdays and Fridays did they have live music.
         “Have fun tonight,” said Jansson.
         “Not too much, though,” added Huusko.
         “Don’t drink too little,” shouted one of the vets.
         The Millhouse Tavern was in the heart of town, half a mile away. The low building had been built in the seventies, just as the town’s central area shifted to a new area. Next to it were the social security office, a bank, a liquor store, a supermarket and a hardware