BooksBarbecue
Back Bad Apples
Chapters (65)
  1. 1
  2. 2
  3. 3
  4. 4
  5. 5
  6. 6
  7. 7
  8. 8
  9. 9
  10. 10
  11. 11
  12. 12
  13. 13
  14. 14
  15. 15
  16. 16
  17. 17
  18. 18
  19. 19
  20. 20
  21. 21
  22. 22
  23. 23
  24. 24
  25. 25
  26. 26
  27. 27
  28. 28
  29. 29
  30. 30
  31. 31
  32. 32
  33. 33
  34. 34
  35. 35
  36. 36
  37. 37
  38. 38
  39. 39
  40. 40
  41. 41
  42. 42
  43. 43
  44. 44
  45. 45
  46. 46
  47. 47
  48. 48
  49. 49
  50. 50
  51. 51
  52. 52
  53. 53
  54. 54
  55. 55
  56. 56
  57. 57
  58. 58
  59. 59
  60. 60
  61. 61
  62. 62
  63. 63
  64. 64
  65. Acknowledgements

‘What do you make of all this?’ he says.

‘Emil getting abducted? I have no idea why anyone would want to do that.’

He nods and sips his coffee.

‘Men do strange things when they’re angry.’

‘So do women.’

He smiles and nods and then thinks about it some more and nods even harder.

‘Is your newspaper getting to the bottom of this? I for one would like to go back to business as usual.’

‘The police have leads, so they tell me.’

He looks over at the shady side of the street.

‘Let me guess. Ragnar Falk, because his daughter was killed by a stupid, reckless driver, and now police realise it was probably Arne Persson who did it.’

‘Did he do it?’

‘How would I know? Back then I’d hardly even heard of Sweden.’

I think about the war-crime-tribunal documents I read through.

‘Talk to me about what happened to your hometown before you left.’

He shakes his head. ‘There is not enough time in the world.’

‘Try me.’

He sips his coffee and crosses his arms. No tattoos. Tanned skin. The chiselled forearms of someone who has always worked with his hands.

‘What nobody here in this country understands is that it could happen here. You all think it couldn’t, that you’re a superior people, a more civilised population. But this country is five bad decisions and one charismatic leader away from it. Same as every other country on the planet. And when things turn, they turn fast. The ethical code of a society changes so quickly nobody can keep up. The unthinkable becomes just an order. A rational revenge. I sit here some nights after we close and watch boys go into the café next door, pretending to be soldiers. Killing make-believe men for fun. It’s never fun. I see the bloodlust in their eyes. But the truth is that they will not be the soldiers fighting for local hills and local bridges if things ever do turn. They think they will fight, but they won’t. It’s the quiet men who fight. The stoic women who keep armies moving. A teacher may command a hundred men to recapture a field he once took students to for a study session on rock formation. He might fight against one of those students. He may have to shoot that student in the head. Worse, even. The computer-game boys next door will be hiding.’ He looks down into his coffee cup. ‘Men fighting for a hill. For what?’

‘I can’t imagine.’

He raises his eyebrows for a moment and then they drop down again. ‘I don’t like what has happened here in my town. Men going missing. Men being cut up.’ He shakes his head. ‘My chef is a Kosovan. My business partner is a Serb. But we’re all Swedes. We don’t want to see things go back to darkness.’

‘Do you know who is responsible, Luka?’