Man on the Roof (Mannen på taket)

I thought you might ring, Mr. Nyman.

Here are some painkillers to ease you along.

- Should I close the window? - No, I'd like some fresh air.

- But I do need to go to the toilet. - That's good.

The doctor would like you to be up and about as much as possible.

Oh... Do those work better than your regular creams?

I hope so...

Are you playing this to bug your poor old dad?

No...

It's good music... too.

When you were little, you were proud that your dad was a policeman.

You bragged about it...

I grew up.

And the police force has changed too.

- You working tomorrow? - Yes.

- With Kollberg? - No such luck.

It's Rönn, so I'm less than thrilled.

Sit down...

- So you went at him with a knife... - To mark the guy.

He sold bad dope, bad dope that killed my buddies.

17 of my friends are dead, get it?

Don't you get it, cop?

- Let's cut the crap... - Seventeen people.

I don't give a damn. I've been on duty since 8 AM yesterday.

I've spent the whole time looking for you.

There's only one thing left.

- What's that? - I know there were two of you.

Who the hell told you there were two of us?

I don't give a damn what you say...

- Thanks. - Let's go.

- Goodnight... - Bye.

Homicide, Johansson speaking...

Hang on, Rönn.

I think this is right up your alley.

We'll check it out. Goodbye.

There's been a murder over at Sabbatsberg hospital.

Some unis will join you over by the main entrance.

Where the hell are my...?

- What's your name? - Andersson.

- When did you get here? - 2:26 AM. Nine minutes ago.

We were in the vicinity of Odenplan.

He's a rookie, it's his first murder.

- Know who the victim is? - Yeah, it's Lieutenant Nyman.

But you can't really tell.

Sorry, but I can't do that right now. I'm busy. Bye.

- Beck. - Rönn here. I'm at Sabbatsberg.

Get over here. There's a unit at the main entrance.

- I'm sorry... - It happens to the best of us.

- Is it always like this? - I've been a cop for 20 years.

And I've never seen anything like this before.

Looks like it was a quick strike.

See why I called you?

- Not because... - Not because of what?

Not because Nyman was a lieutenant, but because of the circumstances.

The man was slaughtered, his killer must be a maniac.

Sure looks like it.

Rönn...

Looks like it would fit a Mauser carbine.

Think they can lift some prints?

The hilt is grooved.

I've got to contact Nyman's family.

Figure we can wake his wife up at this hour?

Can't see you have a choice...

Will you come with me?

Parked in a non-parking zone halfway up the curb...

He's lucky we're not traffic cops.

Hey...

- Isn't that him, the little guy? - Right, that must be Nyman's boy.

I'll just go get my mother.

My name is Beck, I called you earlier.

I'm Einar Rönn.

Please have a seat...

Well, then...

Mrs Nyman, if you happen to have any sedatives on hand,

I advise you to take some.

Dad has...

There's a bottle of sedatives in the bathroom, should I go get it?

Now would you please tell me why you're here?

Stig's dead and...

And none of us can change that.

Why wasn't I allowed to see him?

You sounded very odd over the phone.

Your husband's death wasn't caused by his illness.

Someone stole into his room and killed him.

I don't understand...

- Who did it? - We don't know. He was found dead.

Someone came in through the window and killed him.

With a bayonet. He was caught unawares.

It appears to be a surprise attack.

- But why? - We really don't know.

We hoped you could help us out, Mrs Nyman.

Can you think of anyone at all?

- Have there been any threats? - No...

- Did anyone hate your husband? - Who... Who would hate him?

Your husband was a police officer.

Making enemies goes with the territory.

This doesn't make sense...

- Could I come in? - No.

- How about a comment? - Later...

Stay put...

- Hi, how's it going? - We've talked to the patients.

But no one's heard or seen a thing.

These old buildings have thick walls, you know.

- Did you know Nyman? - Not personally...

But talk to the guys at the Klara precinct.

That's where he was stationed when he fell ill.

Hello, is Sahlin in?

Nasty business, I just heard it on the radio.

- Nothing in the papers yet? - Not yet.

Hello, did you just leave the crime scene? Nasty business...

- Inge? - Yes.

- You knew Nyman, right? - Wake up.

- What the hell are you doing? - Well...

He kind of... It's hard to say...

You must have talked now and then.

You couldn't get close to the guy.

Try.

- The younger men were afraid of him. - Pelle?

For Christ's sake, I just drifted off...

- This way. - Fucking pig! I'm innocent.

What time is it?

- What time is it? - What?

- What time is it? - 4:55.

I've been here since 10:30, they won't let me go.

I was in a demonstration. They can't detain me for more than six hours.

Where's the report on this guy?

- Sign for your effects. - I'm not signing anything.

You didn't give me a receipt, so I'm not signing anything.

It's customary...

Okay, I'll sign it myself.

This is an open and shut case.

I've spent six hours here without being charged...

- Had he received any threats? - Nyman was tight-lipped.

- You could at least talk to me. - He wouldn't have told us.

You don't like my politics. I have no illusions about the police.

But I thought we would be able to communicate.

Did you take the paper? Where is it?

Sorry... I put it over there, on the table.

Upset? Everybody's being evasive.

Mommy?

- Oh, no... - Mommy.

What have you done? Let Mommy sleep, we'll go clean you up.

Here we go...

Ball!

Johan... Hi there, Johan.

Where'd it go?

His diaper leaked, there's crap all over the duvet.

- Am I running late? - No, come lie down a little...

Looky...

- You look exhausted. - I am.

What's up?

Homicide Division Lieutenant Beck

What's happened?

Here's Rönn's report.

"Saturday, March 27th..."

So what do you think?

That Rönn writes godawful reports.

It sounds pretty grisly.

What did it look like?

Worse than you could possibly imagine.

We'd better catch this guy, and be damn quick about it too.

Right.

- What do we have? - Not much. Footprints.

Maybe some prints. No one has seen or heard a thing.

- This could take time... - Negative on the prints so far.

- Forget about prints... - I made a cast, though.

Of a boot or shoe with thick soles.

Right now we need to catch the perpetrator.

We need to figure out the motive.

Revenge? Right, and if it's revenge...

There might be more killings.

What's your analysis so far?

Have you... Have you asked...?

Have you asked yourselves who Nyman was?

- Who he was? - That's right. Who was he?

- Or rather, what was he? - A police officer.

Not a very conclusive answer. What was he?

Come on, Martin!

A police lieutenant.

I have to go make a phone call.

- What was he? - I didn't really know the man.

Don't be evasive, describe the man.

- He was a bad cop. - No, he was a fucking lousy cop.

We've got a new suspect in the Ljunggren case. Come have a look.

He was a blot on the force.

I'm ashamed to have worked at the same precinct,

and at the same time, too.

But his reputation was never tarnished.

You know why?

Everyone knows it's pointless to confront the police.

You can't win against a regular officer, let alone a lieutenant.

- You're exaggerating. - Not really.

It's second nature for cops to stick together.

- We're bogged down by team spirit. - A unified front is important.

- What's that got to do with it? - Everything.

Who do you think did it? Who eliminated Nyman?

Someone he had given a hard time. Someone who wanted to get even.

You mean it's a person from Nyman's past?

Only his name has probably been filed in one of our wastebaskets...

All in the name of team spirit... Want to grab a cup of coffee?