“They came out yesterday afternoon, apparently. Stood around staring and offering opinions for a while before they declared they were freezing their asses off and took off again.” Gerd scoffed. “I’m sure they have their own stuff to deal with in town and all, but damn, I’ve never gotten along with them. These days we stay out of each other’s way as best we can. Hopefully you won’t have to deal with them much either. City people.”
Gerd said “city people” as though it were a curse. It probably was.
“I didn’t mean…” Gerd rushed to say, glancing at Siri. “I mean, there are some good folks there too. I’ve heard.”
Siri laughed. “I’ll do my best.”
“Has it been a challenge?”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, you know, just, you’re kind of small. And, um, a little unusual.”
Siri changed gears. Her response made it clear that she’d gotten this question before. “I worked in Correctional Care one summer. When I met officers, they often said they needed people like me on theforce. I didn’t really know what that meant, but since I had no idea what I wanted to do I decided to apply. That’s the gist of it. It hasn’t been too much of a challenge.”
That probably wasn’t the whole truth, but maybe it was part of it. If you asked her dad, it had all started with the activity books, thin volumes full of riddles and puzzles to think about. Was it even possible to trace a career so far back in a life? Sure, maybe. Sometimes. She would sit with those books for hours, until she had solved every one and felt a certain relief: now the world made sense.
“How about you?”
“Not that different from you, maybe,” Gerd said. “I needed a job.”
She slurped as she drank.
“You’ve been an officer for a long time, haven’t you?” Siri asked.
“Since 1965.”
“You must have been an early one. As a woman, I mean.”
“You better believe it. I was one of the first to emerge from those doors up in Stockholm, once they started accepting women into the academy. God knows, I might have only been the second or third woman with the Halland Police. Those were different times. I used to say I had a dog with me. When I was chasing after hooligans I pretended to let this dog loose on them.”
“What?”
“When we got the new uniforms, Christ, they were so heavy, and there was this burglary on Klammerdammsgatan in Halmstad where the thief leapt out an open window and ran off. I had never run in that uniform before, of course, only in lightweight workout gear, you know. That was how we trained. We should have done it all in uniform, to get used to them. Anyway, this bastard was getting away from me. I don’t even remember who it was now.Woof!I barked.Woof!Stop, or I’ll release the dog!Woof-woof!”
“Did it work?”
“Hell no. I didn’t sound anything like a dog.”
Siri burst out laughing.
“I never tried to sound like a dog,” she admitted, “but my first chase on foot was in town, too, down Brogatan. A purse-snatcher. It happened in the middle of the square. I ran after him as fast as I could, but like you say, we still don’t practice running or obstacle courses in uniform even today. So,” she said, gesturing, “I threw my baton at him.”
Gerd laughed so hard it turned into a cough. “Did you get him?”
“Not by a long shot. But of course, I was running after him, heading for the bus bridge, so when I reached the baton I picked it up and tried again. But no luck. Another miss. So I was just as unprepared as you, in one way.”
“In one way,” Gerd echoed, raising her mug, “it’s a whole different world, being a female police officer in 1999 as opposed to 1969. But in another way, it’s really not. Cheers to that. And Merry Christmas.”
“Cheers, Gerd.”
A brief silence. She had mentioned a husband, Siri recalled, a husband who’d been a hunter. “You didn’t live alone in your house, did you? Originally, I mean.”
“No, that’s right. My husband died ten years ago. Thomas.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Thank you.”
