The Beast (41 page)

    Then
he found the torch. They watched the light flickering across the walls.

    A few
more seconds, as the torchlight lit up the hall. It was moving towards the
front door.

    Bengt
had a grip on Baxter's collar. The dog knew what he was meant to do, soon.
Attack. When his master ordered.

    'Baxter.
Get him.'

    The
torchlight behind the glass panel in the door, and the door opening.

    Bengt
let Baxter go at the same moment as Flasher-Göran stepped outside. Baxter ran,
barking loudly.

    The
man in the doorway realised the danger and managed to slam the door shut just
as the dog got near enough to jump at him.

    'Baxter.
Watch.'

    The
dog settled down in front of the door, ready to spring.

    Bengt
tried to follow the shadow of the man as he ran through the house and decided
that Flasher-Göran must have gone into the kitchen. He shouted in that general
direction.

    'Was
that scary, Göran? All dark and cold for you? Help's coming. You'll get heat
and light soon enough, Göran.'

    He
pointed at Ove, Ola and Klas, who quickly went back into the shed and hauled
the heavy petrol container out on to the lawn. From there they rolled it across
to Flasher- Göran's house. When they were close enough, they unscrewed the top
before rolling it right round the house, letting the petrol soak into gravel
paths and flower borders.

    Meanwhile
Helena had completed her job. She had placed the petrol-filled bottles in five
equal groups.

    They
all lit the rags in their bottles, one by one, holding each one still just long
enough for the flame to take, and then began fire-bombing the house in front of
them.

    Five
explosions at roughly the same time, but all in different parts of the house.

    And
five more, and again and again. Eight times. Always new small fires, slowly
growing and meeting.

    Bengt
produced a piece of paper from one of his pockets. In a loud voice, to be heard
above the roaring of the fire, he read out the court's judgement on Fredrik
Steffansson, the man who shot to kill, but who went free because he had killed
the paedophile who had violated his daughter.

    Just
as he had finished, the kitchen window opened. Flasher-Göran leapt out,
screaming. He fell heavily to the ground.

    Bengt
had time to think that if only Elisabeth had been here to watch, she would have
understood what it was all about.

    Flasher-Göran
was moving where he lay, and Bengt called Baxter away from his watch at the
front door. The dog ran towards the man, who was trying to get up, jumped on
him, sank his teeth into the arm with which the man tried to protect himself,
and started tearing it apart.

    The
whole of Tallbacka flared up the day the trial was concluded. The attack
against the man who had exposed himself in the schoolyard twenty years before
and been sentenced to a fine was the first of nine acts of violence against
alleged paedophiles. The spate of criminal violence was in each case claimed to
be an exertion of reasonable force.

    Three
of the mob attacks, all of which involved grievous bodily harm, led to the
death of the victims.

    The
chief investigator (CI): I will start the interrogation now. Bengt Söderlund
(BS): Fire ahead.

    CI:
The questions concern the events that followed the throwing of the petrol
bombs. BS: Aha.

    CI:
I'm unhappy about your attitude.

    BS:
What would seem to be the trouble? CI: You appear sarcastic.

    BS: If
you don't fancy my answers I wouldn't half mind leaving now.

    CI:
We'll both stay here. I'm prepared to carry on for as long as it takes. This
session will be finished faster if you reply to my questions properly. BS: So
you say.

    CI:
What happened after the last bottle was thrown?

    BS:
The house caught fire.

    CI:
What did you do?

    BS: I
read aloud.

    CI:
What did you read?

    BS: A
court indictment.

    CI:
Pull yourself together, man!

    BS: I
read out a court's judgement.

    CI:
What judgement would that be?

    BS:
About the father from Strängnäs. He shot a paedophile who'd killed his
daughter. It was what the court said about him.

    CI:
Why did you read that?

    BS: Because
society thought he did the right thing when he shot the paedophile. Get it?
These perverts must be eliminated.

    CI:
After you'd read this, what did you do?

    BS: I
noticed that Flasher-Göran had jumped out. From the kitchen window.

    CI:
Then what did you do? BS: Set Baxter on him.

    CI:
You set your dog on him?

    BS:
Sure.

    CI:
And what did your dog do?

    BS:
Bit the fucker.

    CI:
Describe.

    BS:
Bit his arm, thighs. Had a couple of good goes at his face.

    CI:
For how long?

    BS:
Until I called Baxter off.

    CI:
Yes, yes. For how long?

    BS:
Two minutes, maybe three.

    CI:
Make up your mind.

    BS:
More like three. Yeah, three.

    CI:
And then what did you do? BS: We left.

    CI:
You left. Where did you go?

    BS: Home.
And we phoned for the fire brigade. That place was going like a bomb and we
didn't want it to spread. It was fucking well next door, you know.

    Göran
from Tallbacka did not survive his injuries, notably a bite across his throat.
The fatalities also included a man in Umeå, who had two previous convictions
for sex offences. Passing by a playground on the edge of the town, he was set
upon by four teenage boys wielding pieces of iron piping, and beaten to death.

    The
chief investigator (CI): I will start the tape recorder now. Ilrian Raistrovic
(IR): Cool.

    CI:
Are you feeling better now?

    IR:
Yeah. I just needed, like, a break.

    CI:
We'll carry on then.

    IR:
Yeah, sure. No fucking problem.

    CI:
Did you hit more often than the rest of the gang?

    IR:
Dunno.

    CI:
That's what the others said.

    IR:
Must be OK then.

    CI:
Why did you hit him?

    IR:
Fucking peddo, he was asking for it.

    CI:
Peddo?

    IR:
Like he'd been at two small chicks, touched their tits, stuff like that. He had
kids himself. They were his kid's pals, right?

    CI:
How did you hit him?

    IR:
Like, I hit. At him.

    CI:
How many times?

    IR:
Dunno.

    CI:
Try to guess.

    IR:
Like twenty. Maybe thirty.

    CI:
Until he died. IR: Yeah, I guess.

    In
Stockholm, two days later, a particularly gross act of violence was perpetrated
against a drunk, who was surrounded by a group of shouting young men equipped
with baseball bats.

    The chief
investigator (CI): Where were you sitting? Roger Karlsson (RK): On the other
bench.

    CI:
What were you doing there?

    RK: I
was watching him. I know that guy. He's at it all the time. CI: At what?

    RK: Doing
it to females. Little ones, CI: What did he do?

    RK:
He screamed at them, there were three coming along. Calling them names. Whores.

    CI:
He shouted at them that they were whores? RK: He tried to grab their arses when
they passed.

    CI:
Did he do it?

    RK:
He was too fucking slow. But he did try.

    CI:
What did you do?

    RK:
They ran away. He scared them. He always scares females.

    CI:
But what did you do?

    RK:
Let him have it. The bat. In his belly.

    CI:
Were you alone?

    RK:
Fuck, no. The others came along.

    CI:
What others?

    RK:
There were, like, some of us. Waiting, see?

    CI:
Did everyone bring a weapon?

    RK:
We all had bats.

    CI:
What did he do when you first hit him?

    RK:
He shouted something like, what's that you're doin'?

    CI:
What did you do?

    RK: I
shouted back. Told him he was a perv.

    CI:
And then what happened?

    RK:
Then we made mincemeat of him. All of us. It didn't take long.

    CI:
When did he die?

    RK: I'd
brought a sledgehammer too. When I hit him with that he was a goner.

    CI:
When did you use the hammer?

    RK:
Later. To make sure, see? CI: Make sure he was really dead?

    RK:
That's it. You're allowed to kill mad dogs. That's what they said in court.

    The
man was practically unidentifiable when the gang had finished with him, but two
local police constables assumed, on the basis of what he was wearing, that he
was a man called Gurra B, something of an established feature in the park. For
the last thirty-odd years, he had sat around shouting and using foul language
within the hearing of passing women.