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THE  TELEPHONE VOICE

 A crime fiction novel by Ulf Herrströmer

Chapter One

Chief Inspector Bill Hardwick was looking forward to his vacation more than ever before.  He had been working hard this past year, not the least during the recent spring season.  He was longing for the scheduled holidays together with his family at their water-front cottage.              

  Bill’s wife Birgitta, a nurse working in the operating room at Rutstad Hospital, was an only child.  She had lost her Swedish parents in a plane crash somewhere in Canada when she was eleven and had spent the rest of her youth in Byxelkrok on the island of Öland with her aunt Agnes and her aunt’s daughter Pia.  Agnes was a retired teacher in her seventies.  She and her daughter had been abandoned by Pia’s father just a year or two before Birgitta was left an orphan.

  It was now the end of June and probably the last summer their three children could bear to tear themselves away from their pals for an entire month.  This was especially true of their daughter Elisabeth who was now seventeen years old and rapidly becoming independent.  Their son Karl, who had just turned fifteen, was also showing signs of maturity.  However, the youngest child, their daughter Maria, twelve years old, still had a childish nature. Hardwick and his family were planning to drive to their cottage the coming weekend.  Bill fretted, having only two days to get things in order at the office after solving his latest and rather nasty case, a brutal robbery murder in the residential district of Lervik almost ten miles south of Rutstad.

 Hardwick was stationed in Rutstad where the family had been living for the past twenty years.  The owner of the largest newsstand in Lervik was found dead on the premises, bludgeoned on the back of the head, most likely with an axe.  A bloody axe was actually found in a ditch some hundred yards outside the village.  No fingerprints or DNA samples could be identified, only the proprietor’s dried blood was detected.  The perpetrator turned out to be an eighteen year old from the vicinity.  He was exposed when the police, following up tips from the public, found stolen, marked merchandise from the newsstand in the young man’s house.  Although still a teenager, he had been living on his own for some time.  He broke down under Hardwick’s interrogation.  The teenager’s parents, a lumberyard worker and his wife, were naturally distraught by their son’s act of violence.  The boy was facing lifetime imprisonment. 

 Furthermore, during the fall, the Police Inspector had had a difficult and drawn out case of fraud and had been obliged to seek help from the tax authorities in Stockholm.  During the winter several armed robberies had occurred, without deaths resulting, thank goodness, and a good number of burglaries. There had been a hit and run where the victim, an elderly woman, on a short visit to Rutstad had tragically died, as a result of her injuries, on the way to the hospital.  These cases were now solved and the criminals were already or soon to receive their sentences.

Hardwick, who was now in his fifties, felt somewhat worn out from the tough year and was really yearning for the pending vacation which would be his last for the millennium.  He was driving his car, a Volvo 240, on his way home from work on a Wednesday evening when the sergeant on duty at the police station rang his cell phone.  The majority of the precinct  were already enjoying their vacations and his boss, Chief of Police, Per Rundgren, had immediately decided that Hardwick was the one to handle an incident that was being declared top priority.

A bank robbery, with the holding of hostages, was in progress at the Lervik Savings Bank.  Suddenly, Hardwick felt exhaustion settle on his shoulders.  Never-the-less, he made a u-turn and with screeching tires he drove back to the station.  He was grateful to the police vehicle service men who had given his old Volvo an overhaul only a week ago.

Chief Rundgren, with flushed face and agitated expression, stood at his polished oak desk issuing orders.  The station had just been notified by the Lervik Savings Bank of an on-going robbery.  The chief checked the validity of the alarm by calling the bank and was immediately put through to one of the robbers who demanded a safe passage out of the building and the city.  Otherwise the hostages would be killed.  The crook had furthermore informed the chief that a member of the gang, who was waiting outside the bank, had sighted a person crouched by a stone wall not far away and that the individual had a rifle pointed directly at the third gangster.

Among the bank hostages were a clergyman, a middle-aged couple and their seven year old daughter.  There were three robbers altogether and one of them was holding watch by a large, black sedan parked directly outside the bank.  What the robbers required was the safe exit from the village in their getaway car, which turned out to be a stolen BMW of the latest model.  The police were to see to that the crouching person by the wall did not fire his gun.  If the police tried to stop them, the hostages would pay the penalty.  Each member of the gang had a machine gun and the youngest of them claimed to be equipped with some sort of explosive strapped to his body.  The robbers, who were wearing black hoods, had shot the surveillance cameras to pieces.  There could be no police confrontation at this time.  Rundgren wanted Hardwick, together with two younger policemen, who had not begun their vacations, to try to advance close to the bank in order to get some sort of character descriptions and possibly a video film of the bandits.

Barricaded behind a low stone wall only fifteen feet from the bank, police officer Rolf Andersson hunched down with his hunting rifle ready to hinder the escaping robbers.  Officer Andersson was unaware of having been spotted by the gang member standing guard by the black BMW.  The officer, having heard a shot from inside the building, had instantly taken an undercover position.  Rolf Andersson, who was the youngest policeman on Hardwick’s squad, had already had two week’s vacation and was now on his way to hunt pheasant.  It was a sheer coincidence that he had happened to be passing his local bank just as a robbery was in process.  Only minutes before, he had been in the grocery store adjoining the bank, buying provisions for his hunting trip.  Securing a hiding place, he rang the officer on duty at headquarters.  Andersson, in turn, was informed of the bank’s alerting the station, the taking of hostages, and his hiding having been observed.  Rundgren cautioned Andersson against interference and advised the use of good judgment.  He was convinced that Andersson, being a calm and stable thirty year old, newlywed and without children, would do nothing rash.  Chief of Police Rundgren turned to Hardwick questioning;

 - Will you get a handle on this?  Take officers Olsson and Svensson with you.

 - Sir, I’m on it!  Hardwick answered and suddenly – the feeling of exhaustion lifted.

 It was decided that Criminal Inspector Hardwick and his two assistants, officer Olsson and rookie Svensson, both on duty in June, would, without a minute to lose, drive to the scene of the crime and to the aid of their fellow officer Andersson.

 The alarm had gone to the Federal Police and the Rutstad detail could expect assistance at any moment.  Rundgren was advised to concede to the gang’s demands, inform Rolf Andersson of the decision and strongly indicate that the young policeman should not, in any way, hinder the criminals’ escape.  There had, up to now, been no shedding of blood.

 When Hardwick’s team arrived on the scene, the gang was in the process of exiting the bank along with their hostages.  The bank personnel were in a state of shock and a crisis team from the town was fast on its way.  Hardwick approached Andersson who said that he wanted to forget about his vacation and instead help with the apprehension of the bandits.

  - Chief Rundgren has to make that decision, Hardwick replied while dialling his boss who thanked for the offer, but suggested that Andersson continue with his hunting plans.

  Calling his wife, who had already returned home from work, Hardwick briefly described the situation to her and added,

  - Well, honey, I’ll be working overtime this evening.

  - Yes, I guessed that. Bill, please remember that I love you.

 Birgitta, who had been listening to the radio, had earlier heard the breaking news.  She assumed that Bill would once again be coming home late.  She truly meant what she said when she told Bill that she loved him.  It was also true that, as a policeman’s wife, the chances of him not coming home at all, were much greater than those of her friends’, married to men who were not policemen.  Even though Birgitta was well aware of this fact, she hadn’t experienced a moment’s hesitation before saying “yes” when Bill proposed to her one glorious summer evening on the shores of Lake Vättern some twenty years ago.  It was hardly the first time Bill had rung at the end of the day informing her that he would be late due to an emergency case. She always took this message agreeably.  Birgitta had actually seriously considered joining the police force before she decided on nursing, so she most likely did not find it too difficult to sympathize with her husband’s situation.  Of course, she worried about Bill when he was on a dangerous mission but at the same time she was convinced of his skill as a man of the law.

 Their children were at a school friend’s birthday party, Birgitta had said to Bill just before they concluded their conversation.

  - Great that the kids get along so well, despite the age difference, Bill uttered.

  His wife had taken his excuse, which concerned his job, with simple acceptance, he noted and he felt blessed.  She had always had an understanding for his work.  Besides being a good wife and mother, she often showed the ability to draw the right conclusion which more than once helped him in his investigations.  Birgitta would have made a great police, Bill thought.  And, he loved her as much now as he had the first time they met. These were the thoughts going around in Bill’s head as he was preparing the pursuit of the three bank robbers.

 Hardwick and his men set out after the getaway car, keeping a good distance behind, in order not to jeopardize the safety of the hostages.  One of the gang, who was at that very moment speaking to Chief Rundgren, had, according to the chief’s own opinion, a southern Swedish accent.  Rundgren informed Hardwick of this and that the gang’s demands were unchanged.  Suddenly there was a lot of static on the line.  They were cut off!  Most likely the battery was dead or the coverage was weak.  The June evening was almost over and night was fast approaching.  Hardwick and his team passed through Åtvidaberg.  A message from a police helicopter came over the radio stating that the gang’s car had been spotted at the OK gas station several miles southeast of the town.  The team was informed of the State Police special attack force’s plan to gun down and storm the getaway car somewhere near Överum where the task force was about to set up a road block.  Hardwick was to join them and give assistance from the north.

 The clergyman’s wife had, after being persuaded, agreed on this attempt to catch the robbers who had so far managed to hold on to their haul of four millions swedish kronor.  Another road block was already in place on a side road running through the edge of the town of Falerum and from there Hardwick would receive radio news if the gang was approaching.  However, the task force concluded its reasoning by betting on the criminals continuing toward Överum, then south to Västervik.

 Hardwick had been involved in a robbery with a hostage situation some years earlier.  That time he had conducted the negotiations with the criminals.  Fortunately it had a happy ending and the hostages, a young Stockholm couple, were released unharmed.  However, the robbers, three young men, managed to get away with a large amount of cash and had yet to be apprehended.  The holdup had occurred at a large Shell service station nearby Rutstad and Hardwick couldn’t help wondering if it were perhaps the same bandits making a hit again.  The time before the guns used were revolvers but the robbers had evidently upgraded to machine guns.  He thought that if the robber made telephone contact with the chief again, he himself should take over the call so that he could listen to the voice and see if he recognised it.  He called his chief on his police radio and said,

 - If the robber calls you again, Sir, I suggest you put him through to me.  In that way, I can hear his voice and continue the bargaining.  I have a hunch we are dealing with the same gang that held up the Shell station a few years back.  What’s your opinion, Sir?

Hardwick quickly was given a positive response from his superior.  The call Hardwick was expecting came a couple of miles outside of Överum.  Chief Rundgren had the robber on the line and passed it over Hardwick’s radio.  The voice of the criminal, filling the squad car the team was sitting in, was vaguely familiar to Hardwick.  The criminal hastily went on speaking,

- Our hostages are OK and will continue to stay that way if we have no interference.  We plan to leave the country in a private plane and we don’t want trouble.  We’ll let the hostages go before take- off.  Remember – these people die if the police try any funny business.

Hardwick replied, I hear what you are saying.  I am Chief Inspector from the Rutstad area and I am handling the negotiations instead of my colleague because of better telephone coverage here.  The police are willing to meet your demands and you can, without us getting in your way, continue driving and then board your plane.  This is, of course, only if the people you are holding are left unharmed.  If anything happens to them, we will immediately take all necessary measures to hinder you.

A few seconds later, the radio was silent.

Hardwick and his men reached the roadblock half a mile from Överum.  Several police cars with cops from a neighbouring town had been summoned and were already waiting on site.  It seemed that the criminals’ car had disappeared and not encountered the road block.  Due to night fall, the helicopter team had lost sight of the black BMW just south of the OK service station where the gang probably filled up on gas.  There were, of course, several side roads along route 35 between Åtvidaberg and Överum, but they were not in the best condition, especially after winter’s frost damage and the numerous potholes.  Road repair had not begun as of date.  The town blamed finances which probably was the case.  It was nevertheless decided that patrol cars should drive as many as possible of these back roads.

Hardwick’s squad car made its way along a bumpy dirt road going southeast.  After several miles, the car’s bright lights shone on four people huddling along the roadside.  It was the clergyman, the middle-aged couple and their daughter.  Shaken and upset, they could relate that the gang of three, about fifteen minutes earlier, had dropped them off by the abandoned BMW and then each robber mounted a motorcycle and headed southeast.  There were no such motors to be heard now.  Wearing hoods the entire time, the robbers managed to hide their identity so their hostages were not able to help with a description except for the fact that two of the criminals spoke English and one of them had, what seemed to be, a south Swedish accent.  The hostages continued to tell their frightening experiences as they were seated in the police car.  After a short drive on the same road, they caught sight of the black car almost hidden in a dense wooded area.  Everyone stepped out of the police vehicle while Hardwick fiddled with the ignition of the exclusive BMW which appeared to be in sound condition.  Managing to start the motor, he then turned the car around, got out and spoke to the four people with a controlled and even voice,

- Please get into the BMW now.  Officer Svensson will escort you back to Lervik.  There you’ll be able, if you wish, to share what you have gone through with a skilled crisis team.

 Young rookie Svensson drove away with the released hostages.  Hardwick, left with only one other police officer, Ebba Olsson, continued to drive the police car on the narrow road going southeast, in chase of the robbers.  All during this time they were in contact with the Chief of Police and the State Police.  The road they were travelling on was becoming more of a path lined with dark, high fir trees.  Hardwick hit the brakes hard.  Getting out, with the headlights glaring, he and Olsson discovered fresh motorcycle tracks in the muddy lane which continued on ahead into the pitch black of night.  Not a sound was heard.

 - We won’t come any further tonight, not with our criminal pursuit, Hardwick said reluctantly.

 - Yeah, I agree completely, Sir, Olsson replied.

 Swinging the car around, Hardwick started heading back to Rutstad.  The overtime for this evening was finally over.

Two days later, the Hardwick family set off for their cottage on the Baltic Sea coast of southeast Sweden.  Hardwick had cleared his desk from paper-work that could not wait until after his vacation.  The Federal Police had assumed full charge of the Lervik robbery investigation;  and  the ground search, which had gone on a while, was without result.  Still Hardwick could, somewhere in his mind, hear that very special voice of the robber which, as Chief Rundgren had  assumed, had a southern cling to it.  He became more and more convinced that this was the same voice he had dealt with before.  Or was it perhaps NOT the same person he had listened so intently to a few years ago?  Was the person, not at all from the south of Sweden?  Hardwick felt very unsure.  He just did not know.  Did the country have other areas with similar dialects, he wondered?  Birgitta’s aunt Agnes on Öland had an accent similar to a southern one, Bill thought and when Birgitta had concluded a long telephone conversation with her aunt, she, too, fell into that way of speaking.  He couldn’t figure it out.  It was easy, for example, for him to immediately recognize different dialects on Ireland where he, in the early years of his career in Dublin, met people from various areas of his native country.  Possibly, he himself still spoke with a Dublin accent, but according to his colleagues and friends, after many years in Sweden, he had acquired a Swedish accent, similar to the way people spoke in Jönköping.  As his Swedish constantly improved, he became aware of his ability to detect hidden meanings in variations and nuances in the speech of those he was interrogating.  This skill enabled him to achieve quicker and more reliable results in his investigations.

The weather that summer  was marvellous and, thank goodness, no algae, of any sort, was blooming on the sea.  Most days the family, with the exception of Bill, hung out lazily on the beach.  A hammock, which was Bill’s 50^th birthday present, was hanging between two large birch trees on the lawn and it was there he lounged in the shade listening to the sounds of summer while the others were sunbathing or swimming.  Bill often went for an early morning dip and again for one in the evening.  Birgitta frequently joined him.  The sun was not something Bill worshipped, an inheritance from his Irish parents who were both red-haired and fair-skinned like so many other Irishmen.

 By the way, he questioned himself, how are my parents?  Now and then they telephoned each other but, as a matter of fact, it had been a while since he and his family had visited Dublin, yes, more than three years.  Both his parents had been enjoying good health but his father, Gordon, sounded bored since he left his position as Superintendent of the police force in the Irish capital.  Bill knew his father had greatly enjoyed his work but, had more and more, been looking forward to his retirement due to the IRA bombings.  One such explosion took the life of a fellow police man who was a close and dear friend.  As far as Bill knew, his father had never had a hobby.  It was work and more work that took up most of his time.

 Bill, however, was interested in music.  He had for several years, when a young lad, played the piano in the school orchestra; and in Rutstad he was the pianist in a small amateur band which usually met and practised on Wednesday evenings.  Sometimes Bill was detained at work but even so, he felt support from the other musicians, maybe because of his fine ear for music.  Where he got his musical abilities from, he could not tell.  Neither parents nor relatives were particularly gifted.  However, a great uncle, who had lived in Scotland, was said to have been amazing on the bagpipe.

 Also Bill’s daughter Elisabeth was musically endowed and she recently had wished for a guitar as a birthday or Christmas present. His daughter was the only family member with a song voice.  She had performed at school commencement exercises several times.  Hearing from his relatives in Sweden that his own voice did not even match Egon Kjerrman’s, ( a popular sing-a-long band leader),  Bill had a hunch that his own voice was not so good even though he hadn’t a clue who that band leader was.

Bill’s mother Ruth had always been more outgoing than his father and from what Bill could make out, she still had lots of friends, many of which were from the time she was a teacher in middle school.  Hardwick decided to call his parents that same evening to find out how they were getting on. He wanted, of course, to inquire about his sister Vera, whom he had not seen for nearly eight years, and who was married to a real estate agent and had been living in Canada for a decade.  The couple had no children.

 Bill met Birgitta in Dublin some twenty years ago while she was attending a medical conference held in the city.  After graduating with honours from the Irish Police Academy, he substituted at a police station in the capital for several months.  He was the youngest policeman there.  It had been love at first sight for Bill when the two first became acquainted at Bill’s favourite pub.  Birgitta soon admitted that she loved him, too, and she suggested he accompany her to Sweden from where her parents had emigrated, to Jönköping where she was employed at the regional hospital in the centre of the city.  Fortunately, Bill’s summer holidays were about to begin so there was no need to hesitate booking a ticket to his sweetheart’s homeland.  He proposed on the shores of Lake Vättern one lovely summer evening and she said “yes”.  He knew at that moment that he had come to stay.  The wedding was held in the quaint church of Byxelkrok and the reception was enjoyed by aunt Agnes, her daughter Pia and some of Birgitta’s close friends.  The honeymoon took the young couple to Copenhagen, the fun capital of Denmark and the Tivoli Amusement Park.

After being granted dispensation by the Police College of Sweden, Bill Hardwick was admitted into the school and permitted to take a special studies course which he completed with the highest degree.  His first position was that of sergeant at the Rutstad precinct in 1980. 

Now after twenty years of admirable duty, he had advanced to Chief Inspector and was positioned under Chief of Police Per Rundgren.  Soon to reach the age of sixty-five, the chief had already announced his plans for retirement which in turn would leave his office open.  Hardwick had good hopes of being suggested for the job

 Bill was satisfied with his work and he enjoyed living in a country with forests of fir and pine trees.  Such woods had been decimated on Ireland years ago in order to feed factory furnaces, ovens and home fire places.  Bill’s paternal grandfather, who died in 1979 at the old age of ninety-five, had poetically described the beautiful forests that existed on the Ireland of his youth.

 - Lucky Scotsmen who have coal for their heating, he would utter. Look how they have been able to keep so many of their beautiful forests. 

 Well, not to mention Sweden, Bill thought gratefully.  What a fantastic forest land I’m living in.  Even if some areas in the country have severe winters and coal is no longer used as fuel,  the Swedes seem to take better care of their natural resources and tremendous wood supply.

Bill telephoned his parents that evening as he had planned, saying,

 - Hello, Mom, it’s Bill.  How are you?

 - Hello, my boy.  How nice to hear from you.  Your father is out buying a newspaper, he’ll be back shortly. I know he’d love to talk to you, too.

 His mother was delighted speaking to Bill and she repeated the standing invitation to Bill to come and stay for a while.  Bill considered himself to be a good son but, at the same time, he felt a pang of bad conscience.  It might very well be some time, maybe not until the children were old enough to be in college, before he and Birgitta could make the trip to Dublin.  His mother mentioned Bill’s  sister Vera having called recently.  There were still no grandchildren on the way in Canada.  Bill chatted with his mother about fifteen minutes and also exchanged some pleasant phrases with his dad.  After wishing one another “good night”, the conversation came to a close and they hung up.

The Hardwick family had now spent three weeks at their cottage and things were going along pleasantly. It was the 21^th of July and Bill couldn’t help himself but call the police station in order to check on the progress the Federal Police were making.  Not the slightest clue had turned up nor had the supposed airplane in Västervik ever been located despite an intense search the first twenty four hours after the robbery.   It was concluded that the air craft story was a false lead.  Most likely the criminals using their motorcycles made their way through the woods to the coast and then by land or sea fled to a safe hiding place.  No evidence had been secured at the scene of the crime or from the probable escape route.  The bank’s surveillance camera had captured some views of the robbers storming into the building and firing at the camera.  Men with hoods but no distinguishing features could be seen.  Possibly one of the criminals limped a little.

  Another robbery to add to the long list of unsolved crimes, Bill sadly uttered to himself.

Chapter Two

Soon Bill Hardwick´s vacation would be ending.  The other members of the family were brown as berries.  Bill, however, had shunned sunbathing because he, like his mother and father, just reddened.  Instead, he had immersed himself in books he had for some time wished to read and he had, the past weeks, been sharing a good deal of family fun, swimming and relaxing on the beautiful Baltic Sea shore. The water had been clean, clear and refreshing. On rainy days Maria, having mastered the art of chess playing, challenged anyone to play with her. Often it was her father who gave in and then he had to admit that his young daughter was quite clever and that their matches were really pleasurable.  Maria was even the math genius of the family although the other two children were pretty quick, too. Of course, the kids had rung their friends numerous times from the cottage telephone and most likely, many more times from their cell phones.  Karl had wanted to return home a week earlier but Bill had put his foot down and said "No"!  Bill and Birgitta suspected that Karl might have a girlfriend but Karl was very secretive about the matter.  Despite the missing of friends, the kids had been in good spirits most of the time. At the moment they were eagerly anticipating the boat trip they were about to embark on.

A rather large, sturdy looking motorboat had just been rented for the final week of the family vacation in order to visit several interesting places along the coast and to cross the sea to the island of Öland. Most of all, they were excited about spending time with Aunt Agnes in Byxelkrok.

Loads of food and other necessities were stocked up.  There was a kerosene burner on board for cooking and Bill knew he would soon be served his favorite dish, cabbage rolls with lingonberry jam.  Neither he nor the other family members were particularly good sailors but the 12 horsepower Albin diesel engine had been assured to be, by the rental firm guy, dependability itself.  The sail most likely would remain in its storage bin, Bill guessed.

The family set out on their boating adventure an early Friday morning and they were well on their way towards the first stop on the itinerary which lay just somewhat north of Loftahammar.  The sea was calm and crowded.  There were many other boats around, some sailboats, but numerous fast going motorboats. The rental was equipped with a super modern GPS marine chart so navigating was not a problem.  In addition, Bill did have a skipper license he had received some years ago after completing an evening course in navigation.  Yes, he felt comfortably safe at the helm.  As the sun was setting, the boat entered a welcoming guest harbor.  No mishap had occurred the entire day and now the favorite meal and a good rest were waiting. The food which was delicious was followed by a game of monopoly.  Karl  emerged a superior winner after buying the best hotels in Stockholm and leaving the other players completely broke.  The night promised sound sleep and pleasant dreams.

The next morning, after a hearty breakfast, they headed for Västervik.  The sea was still at its best and the winds were mild.  Seagulls cried and dived at the boat somewhat resembeling small aircraft scouting for a free meal.  The  high pressure over southern Scandinavia appeared to be stable. Late in the afternoon, the boat docked and the guest harbor met with the family´s best expectations.  Everyone was in a spendid mood.  They all enjoyed diving off the deck and fooling around in the warm water, then drying themselves in the breeze and sun.

The night passed peacefully and the next morning the plans were to cross the open sea to Byxelkrok on the northern tip of Öland.  Agnes, Birgitta´s aunt, had been living there for many years and Birgitta, herself, felt she was going "home".  Pia, who was the daughter of Aunt Agnes, had been Birgitta´s best friend all during their youth and they still kept in close contact although Pia was married to a sea captain and was living in Australia.  There had been many long telephone conversations to Perth the past decade or so.  Pia had so much to tell about her teaching career and Birgitta spoke about her work, Bill´s job and family matters.

The following day, after a lazy sleep-in, a mid-morning dip in the sea and a sound breakfast, then more swimming and a late lunch, the Hardwicks set out for Byxelkrok about 2 p.m. knowing that the day´s trip would be rather short.  The rental boat was large and had been guaranteed to be sea worthy and could easily manage a voyage over the open water without difficulties. The weather reports promised fair skies and temperatures in the eighties with only a slight risk for showers or fog.  Everyone was feeling great except Karl who seemed a bit moody and irritated because of a decision the family had made to leave all cell phones at the cottage in order to completely take a break from civilization. He´s probably sulking because he can´t talk to his girlfriend, the family reasoned.

The sun beat down all day and the seagulls flew overhead screaming.  Bill hadn´t bothered to fill the tank with fuel because, after what the rental man had explained, the tank held a 100 liters and that was what was in it when the boat was picked up.  This amount was sufficient for several journeys back and forth to Byxelkrok.  As the man said, diesel motors are known to get good mileage.

After half an hour´s traveling dark clouds began gathering over land and a strong breeze had started up.  What seemed like heavy showers were moving swiftly over the water in the direction of the vessel.  Totally unprepared, the Harwick family found themselves caught in a violent thunder storm.  It was pouring down and the winds were tossing the boat relentlessly about when suddenly the engine stopped.  Despite repeated attempts to start the engine nothing happened except the battery began to lose its strength and then died completely after many desperate attempts.  Bill was sure that it would be impossible to rig up the sail in the prevailing furious gale.  No coast or islands could be seen due to visibility which was so bad that the once bright summer light was transformed into hostile darkness.

Bill fastened a rope, to which he had attached a makeshift anchor of plastic buckets, to the prow.  When he heaved it into the sea it instantly halted the erratic bobbings and the boat ceased almost entirely to take in water as the prow now could hold itself against the wind.  Everyone double checked his life jacket.  Was it properly belted?

The radio on the boat was, of course, not  working  without electricity and they all, together with Karl, were fit to be tied for having agreed on leaving their cell phones in the cottage.  The boat did not have a fuel gauge. In its place was a long match stick.  Bill screwed off the fuel tank top, stuck in the stick and pulled it out dry.  The tank was empty!  Bill cursed the boat rental man who was either an incompetent jerk or - had he tricked them intentionally?  The Hardwicks´ were deeply discouraged and extremely agitated.  The only thing to do was to wait for someone to come to their aid or to meet with an inevitable disaster.

The boat was drifting in a southernly direction further and further out into unknown waters due to the storm winds hitting them from the northwest.  It continued to pour down soaking and chilling the family to the bone. Nobody wanted to go below deck with such weather conditions.  One second in the cabin resulted in minutes of nauseousness.  Just before the black of night engulfed them entirely, they noticed some ominous, glistening rocks in the southeast with frothy waves dashing against them. This was where they were heading with a frightening speed.  Was a shipwreck to be their destiny?

No lighthouse or lantern could be spotted along the horizon.  Panic-stricken, Birgitta and  the children held on to the railing for dear life while the thoughts of how much they loved each other raced through their minds, but no one managed to utter these words.  Perhaps it would be an indication of having already given up.  Bill forced himself to speak assuredly to his loved ones.  In this catastrophic drama, the boat´s lamps were no longer lit as the battery was dead as a doornail and the GPS, without electricity, was not functioning either.  Somewhere on board there should have been a reserve chart but to look for it would have been a useless challenge.  Something must be done!  Bill wound a rope around a small flashlight in order to construct a type of lantern that he could flash on and off, but how long the batteries would last, he had no idea.  Unfortunately there was no supply of fresh batteries.  Nevertheless he continued the signaling until the light dimmed and then went out.  They were now totally helpless in a raging summer storm, in the dead of night and in a boat drifting undoubtedly towards destruction.

 A scream pierced through the turbulence.  Elisabeth was shaking and pointing,

 - Dad, I see two lights over there to the left!

 Beyond the stern of their vessel everyone could also see two lanterns which were quickly increasing in size, meaning they were nearing the Hardwicks´ port at an alarming speed and through the din of the storm, the unmistakeable roaring of a large motor boat was heard. This racing boat, from what the family could make out, was heading straight at their rental and an inevitable violent collision was to occur in a minute or two. At that instant, a perfect steadiness spread through Bill´s body (a feeling he had experienced in his job at times when other policemen showed signs of tension; like in confrontations with an armed criminal or in alike acutely dangerous situations). He himself always remained cool and clearheaded. Bill relected on his father´s likewise reactions in the face of peril. In a flash, Bill grabbed a box of storm matches from his pocket.  Opening it half way, he struck a match and then dropped it burning back into the box.  The flame that flared up should have been seen in a distance even in the terrible weather.  Bill thought right!  From the fast approaching motor boat, which was now only ninety feet behind them, a strong searchlight promptly glared on the Hardwicks. The deafeningly loud engine was switched off allowing the boat to slow down and pull up along side of Bill´s boat. A light went on in the captains´s quarters.                                                     

 Bill was already throwing two fenders over the portside to prevent the boats from bashing against one another.  The strangers´ craft was a large, modern cabin cruiser and from its stern Bill could hear the swearing of an Irishman.  The harsh, booming voice was "wondering who could be so damn stupid to be out on the sea in such a storm, in the middle of the night and without lights?".  The engine started and the large craft moved to the prow where Bill was working and watching.

Two young men were standing in the roomy rear seating well which was dimly lit by the light from the cabin window.  One of the men shone his bright flashlight on Bill who was at this time in the process of hurriedly explaining the frightening events of the evening.  The men offered to tow the rental to Byxelkrok, just a few nauatical miles to the southeast, where they themselves were heading.  Later on, Bill would be grateful that he had followed his instinct to speak British English and not his own Dublin dialect.  After tieing one end of a hawser on the aft of the cabin cruiser, one of the fellows tossed the other end to Bill who managed to catch it and knot the rope securely to the rental´s prow.  The towing could begin.

The family began to breathe easier, well, all except Bill who wondered why these men claimed to be tourists from the southern coast of England when it was evident that they were Irishmen talking with a Dublin accent. He could make out the faces of the men but he didn´t recognize either of them.  Naturally this was to be expected because the fellows were somewhere in their twenties and he himself had left the city long before they entered teenage. And, he noted, Dublin is a pretty big city with plenty of places for those who want to hide. 

About twenty minutes later, with the Hardwicks in tow, the boats reached Byxelkrok harbor and the dock with a rental boat place.  Bill untied the hawser and the entire family pitched in to secure a spot next to the cabin cruiser.  Bill offered to pay for the towing but the men, swiftly turning their backs, said "absolutely not" while disappearing through a door at the rear seating well.  There ought to be at least three men, Bill thought.  Someone must have been maneuvering the boat all the time since the encounter.  While the family was making sure that all was OK with their own boat, a third person, perhaps older than the other two men, appeared on the cruiser´s deck and put down a wide gangway to the dock.  This man, when he had completed his task, addressed the Hardwicks in Swedish.  

 - Hello.  Boy, you guys certainly lucked out.  It could have gotten real nasty out there.  We´re glad we could help and nevermind the towing, it´s on us.  Have a good night.

 The man´s face was hidden in the dark, only his silhouette could be seen.  Bill stopped dead in his tracks!  He was absolutely positive he had heard this voice over the police radio during the armed robbery chase south of Åtvidaberg just a month ago and even during the telephone negotiations he had conducted three years ago.  Bill was sure the man who had just spoken to the family was, no doubt about it, the very same person.  What he didn´t know was if this fellow, in turn, had recognized his voice.  Doubtful, he hoped. 

Bill Hardwick did not have and should not have had his service revolver with him while vacationing.  Moreover, he had forgotten to bring the charger to his digital camera with him on the trip.  He very much regretted his stupidity.  Wheeling around at the unexpected but typical motorcycle engine roar that drowned out the sound of the storm, Bill watched three men in a row, each on his own shiny cross country bike, drive from the cruiser, down the ramp into the pouring rain.  The intence feeling of exhaustion that he had experienced before his vacation once again settled on Bill´s shoulders.  Before the bikers were lost from sight,  Bill noticed large bags strapped to the back of each motorcycle.  No mistake that these were the three bank robbers from Lerwick and that the bags contained the money from the robbery or robberies. 

With the boat well moored, Bill and family hurried, as fast as they could along the road, the short distance to Aunt Agnes´ house at the northern end of the village.  Although it was past midnight, there were some lights on in the windows.  A soaking wet family stood at the front door and rang the bell.  Agnes opened and hugged Birgitta first of all, then she embraced the others.  She was rather short and well padded; had a fair face that beamed with friendliness and the lines around her mouth and eyes showed signs of hearty laughter.

 - Oh, do come in, she welcomed them in a kind, clear Öland manner and she continued to say

 - Look at you all, soaked to the skin.  Go to your rooms, get out of those wet clothes and put something dry on.  Immediately!

Aunt Agnes gathered a bunch of terrycloth towels and led the way to the bedrooms.  Bill and Birgitta always stayed in Birgitta´s old room.  They had clothes with them in a bag they carried from the boat.  After drying off and changing, the family joined Aunt Agnes in the cozy, comfortable kitchen where the table was in the process of being set for a late meal.  As they seated themselves they all let out a sigh of relief  and without hesitation began to relate their horrendous adventure.  That is, all except Bill who had left the group in order to use the telephone so he could call the officer on duty in Rutstad who in turn would contact Chief Rundgren.  Bill´s boss, who had been rudely awakened, lost no time at all getting back to Bill and within minutes he was put into the picture.  Bill did not hesitate to say that he wanted to carry on the search and it was thus agreed that if two policemen from the island could assist him, the pursuit of the criminals might be resumed Rundgren was responsible for contacting the local law enforcement.  Hardly a half an hour later, a patrol car with two policemen from the city of Borghom arrived at Aunt Agnes´.  They immediately left with Bill and drove to the only hotel in Byxelkrok and outside of it they thought they saw some muddy traces of mototcycle tracks.  The night porter was able to say that three young men, most likely tourists from England, had checked out twenty minutes earlier.  He continued to eagerly relate to the police that the men were sharing the luxury suit and had paid, in small bills, for three nights.  These guests had not mentioned anything about where they were bound after Byxelkrok.

 - May I have a look at the hotel register, please?  Hardwick asked.  Hmm, the names are definitely British but I´m assuming they´re ficticious.

 The night porter indicated that one of the tourists spoke poor English, and funny enough, the guy had sounded as though he could have come from the southern part of Öland.  The porter, it was discovered, played the violin in the community amateur string quartet leaving Hardwick to feel that the man´s analysis of the tourist´s speech was credible.    

No motorcycles were found around the vicinity of the hotel that night and the morning search proved fruitless as well. There were no bike tracks either, because the rain that had gone on all night had long since washed them away.  When questioned, the proprietor of the boat firm down at the dock explained that he had rented out a large cabin cruiser to three English tourists five days ago and that the fee had been paid in small bills.  The names, again, were typically English ones and, coincidentally, all three men called themselves Smith.  A bit puzzled, the rental fellow had asked if they were brothers, only to get an irritated and sharp, "No!"   Bill pointed out that it was his boat at the shop´s dock and he further made clear the necessity of seeking shelter during the previous night´s storm.  Of course, he would pay for the space.  The shop keeper was quick to reply that he was only too happy to help the police and naturally, there should be no payment.  He, without hesitation, offered Bill the site for the entire week and what´s more, he would see to it that the dead battery be fully charged. 

The three policemen agreed to halt their search in and around Byxelkrok.  Hardwick thanked his colleagues for their assistance as they prepared the return drive to Borgholm.  The Swedish FBI was now in charge and an all out alert was being issued to cover the entire island of Öland. 

Bill Hardwick returned to his family and Aunt Agnes´ early in the morning.  The front door was unlocked and everyone was still sound asleep.  Bill was too tired and too wound up for only a couple of hours´ rest so he went into the kitchen intent on fixing breakfast.  The fridge revealed delicious looking leftovers from the great "midnight snack" the others must have enjoyed.  Bill set up a buffet with shellfish, flounder, sallads, ice cream and fresh strawberries.  As the members of the family came in one by one, they found the table set and an array of tasty dishes waiting.  The genuine warmth of the family´s appreciation was the best reward Bill could receive.

After breakfast Bill contacted Rundgren only to hear that no leads about the whereabouts of the robbers had come in despite the Öland Bridge surveillance and warnings and alarms that had gone out over the island. 

Hardwick proceeded to make a suggestion to Rundgren. 

- The FBI ought to bring in Interpol.  I could try to make sketches of two of the thugs even if I wasn´t able to see them so distinctly last evening.  The face of the third man, our so-called "Voice on the telephone", I´m sorry to say, was hidden in the shadows.  My phantom drawings ought to be dispatched to the International Police Agency as soon as possible.  I  willingly would fly to Dublin as soon as my vacation is over.

- Continue, please, this sounds interesting, Rundgren remarked.

- I´m convinced that my hometown, Dublin, is the base for this criminal operation because the three men obviously want to cover up the fact that they come from the city.

- Well, I think you may be on to something.  Your reasoning sounds good and you certainly are the one best suited to carry out the investigations on your home turf.

Rundgren assured Bill that he would present the scenario they had been discussing to the Swedish FBI.  Let it be known that Rundgren was not an individual who was easily persuaded but, given the facts, a cut and dry case and a logical argument, he most often would be in agreement. 

- At least for me, Hardwick said to himself, and I have a high opinion of my chief.

Here Bill was, still on Öland with a family and a boat to take back to the mainland and, when he got there he was going to give that rental guy "hell" for subjecting them all to extreme danger.  What´s more, Bill thought angrily, there ought to be a damn good refund.

Sunday was a gorgeous day for a family picnic on the beach.  Finally they all had loosened up and were having late summer fun.  The kids were trying out new snorkling equipment when Karl yelled for all he was worth.

- Hey, you guys, come here and look!  There´s a wreck down on the sea bottom.

- Wait a little, we´re coming, Maria shouted back.

Karl being an excellent swimmer had taken himself a good bit away from the shore.  Both Maria and Elisabeth had some difficulties getting to where their brother was but when they did reach him they also could see the remains of a large wooden sailboat about ten or twelve feet below.  The mast was broken and parts of the deck and even tables and shelves were spread out around the hull.

-Looks like a giant insect, the kids remarked.

- That´s probably the way our boat would look in a hundred years if we hadn´t been rescued last night, Elisabeth uttered and shuddered.

- Oh, Sis, stop it!  That´s enough, Maria admonished.

The situation put the siblings in an gloomy and uncomfortable mood so turning around, the three of them together swam back to shore.

- We saw a wreck out there, on the bottom of the sea, Maria excitedly told her parents, and Elisabeth said it was like we would be in a hundred years if we hadn´t made it through the storm.  It felt spooky!  Like, uhh, can´t we have a talk now?

- I suppose it would do us some good if we had a real heart to heart talk about what we went through yesterday, Bill ventured to say.  Anyone want to start?  Come on, give it a try. 

Lying in the sun, they discussed the entire frightful experience for at least an hour.  The Hardwicks were familiar with such talks from around the kitchen table at home.  Often Bill and Birgitta asked if someone had an unpleasant experience or some news to share.  Of course, they all might have their own private secrets.  The parents knew this was an important aspect of a person´s integrity.  Bill was wrestling with his own thoughts:  We were saved by a gang of outlaws and I just hope I´m not becoming cynical in my old age.  Well, even bad people are not always rotten straight to the core and it´s not necessarily so that the good are all good.  Yet a police officer cannot afford to be naive - maybe that´s what I am just now. No, I have to be careful not to let my emotions alter me as a police or a person.  It does seem as though my family survived the horrors of our boating trip with nothing more than a good scare given the fact that it could have ended in a catastrophe for us all.

Monday morning early, soon after a big breakfast, The Hardwicks thanked Aunt Agnes for her hospitality and hugged and kissed her warmly goodbye.  They walked down the street with their belongings on the way to the harbor.  The weather was lovely.  At the dock Bill filled the motor boat´s tank with fuel while expressing his gratitude to the shop owner.  There was a TV store next door where Bill purchased a cellular phone similiar to the one Karl had.  After stowing away their bags, they stood on deck and waved "so long" to Aunt Agnes and the boat shop keeper.  The motor started up on first try and in the glorious sunshine Bill steered towards the mainland and Loftahammar.  His vacation, with full pay, was to be extended by two days.  The trip with one overnight stay and without the least disruption took two days.  When they had just settled down after the first day, Hardwick received a call on his new cell from Chief Rundgren.

- Rundgren speaking.  I´ve just had word from the FBI that three days ago a bank robbery took place a few miles south of Kalmar.  Three men with black hoods and automatics escaped on cross country motorcycles carrying bags containing more than a million kronor in bills.  So far the feds have little to go on.  Bill, this sounds like your criminals.

- Yes, Sir.  It fits perfectly; the time, the place and - the men in the cruiser who saved our lives.  Thank you, Chief, concluded Hardwick.

Bill felt now the strength of his own convictions about the three men. On the second day, rather late in the afternoon, the Hardwick family docked in Loftahammar.  Bill gave the boat rental guy "holy hell".  Certainly a reprimand the man was not likely to forget.  He had made some serious mistakes and was now behaving like a dog with his tail between his legs.  And well he should be! During the trip back to the mainland, one of the children informed the rest of the family  that there was no sail in its storage place and not anywhere else on the boat either.  Bill did get a refund of half the rental fee and he did not have to fill up the tank as was usually the custom when returning a craft.  It would be rotten luck for the next ones who rent the boat if they have the same problems.