A Necessary Action
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From Per Wahlöö—co-author with his wife, Maj Sjöwall, of the internationally bestselling Martin Beck series of mysteries—comes a suspense novel about a former German soldier wanted for questioning about a murder in Spain.
Willi Mohr--former German soldier, starving artist, enigmatic drifter--is arrested by the police and subjected to a lengthy and perplexing interrogation. Unwillingly, he is drawn back to the previous year he spent in Spain, the mysterious death of a Norwegian couple he shared a house with and his tireless attempts to discover how they died. As the interrogation intensifies, Mohr realizes that his own secret activities have implicated him in a dangerous political situation. Exhausted, at the end of his money, worn down by the police, he takes decisive action that leads to a profound personal release.
stomach. Then he kicked him hard in the side. At the same time, Santiago had succeeded in coming up behind the Finn and flinging his arms round him. Ramon came nearer, crouching with his fists clenched, but although the Finn had his arms locked to his sides he succeeded in kicking his opponent in the chest. Ramon staggered back a few steps. Two of the other Scandinavians hung amateurishly on to Santiago from behind and he was forced to let the Finn go. Suddenly it was quite quiet, and Willi Mohr
his sex, hard and upright, against a point just below the small of her back. Siglinde had felt what it was like. She freed herself, turned round and hit him across the face, quite hard, with the back of her hand. He took a step back into the darkness. She quickly pulled up her dress and bra straps, but he had time to see her naked breasts with their large dark nipples, which seemed black against her sunburnt skin. ‘Don’t ever try to do that again,’ she said scornfully. She was not really
He was put on special service and sent to France again, to the north coast, where the sun was not quite so seductive as in Bayonne. In addition to this, the spiritual climate had grown considerably harsher, but that he did not bother about. Hugo Spohler knew the art of forgetting what he considered not worth remembering. During the war he had not been able to avoid killing a number of people, perhaps six or seven, but he never talked about it and neither did he think about it. He remembered
arrived at the house in Barrio Son Jofre, it was already dark. He unlocked the door, went in and hunted out the lamp, but when he tried to light it he saw that the paraffin had run out, so he fetched a stub of candle from the kitchen, lit it and slowly walked upstairs, where there was a whole packet of candles. Before he went down again, he raised the bottle with the candle in it and looked round the room. On the chair by the bed lay Dan’s manuscript and a book he had evidently been reading two
family here.’ ‘I’ve heard that.’ ‘If anything happens to a member of the family, we look upon it as a very serious matter.’ ‘Oh yes,’ said Willi Mohr. He did not bother to look up. A moment later Santiago left. Willi Mohr had a feeling that it would be some time before he came back. 7 The events of the last two weeks had had a confusing effect on Willi Mohr. His relations with Santiago Alemany had developed into a series of situations which were not simple and he had not anticipated