Download Between Summer's Longing and Winter's End: The Story of a by Leif GW Persson PDF

By Leif GW Persson

A riveting new mystery by means of a author universally said as Sweden's major criminologist.
A younger guy falls to his loss of life from a window in Stockholm. The police are looking to write it off as an twist of fate, or in all probability a suicide, yet superintendent Lars Johansson feels another way. quickly it's printed that the younger guy used to be an American journalist, engaged on a undertaking approximately his uncle, a CIA agent, who could have had ties to the top reaches of Sweden's political neighborhood. Johansson's look for the reality will take him to manhattan and the FBI Academy in Virginia, and at last down right into a darkish internet of foreign espionage, backroom politics, and greed, exposing the sheer incompetence that resulted in a devastating tragedy.

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Extra resources for Between Summer's Longing and Winter's End: The Story of a Crime

Sample text

Of all the chiselers. Maybe he’s gotten religion, he thought, but at the same moment the phone rang and he had other things to think about. Finally free, thought Bäckström as he slipped out through the gate to Kungsholmsgatan and set out toward the bar. He tossed the empty binder into the nearest garbage can. . At midnight Lars Martin Johansson was already in his bed on Wollmar Yxkullsgatan, listening to the bells ring in Maria Church. A nice-looking woman, he thought. She was nice to talk with too, although a police officer, of course.

There the lights were always off this time of day; lifting weights after completed service had become like a purifying bath for him. It helped him to arrange all the new impressions and experiences into a larger context. He’d understood from the first day that it was foreigners who were responsible for almost all crimes being committed in today’s Sweden, but how could the problem itself be solved? Just sending them home, which would have been the simplest, was unthinkable in the current political climate.

Paying a call on his plaster-casted colleague in misfortune was also out of the question. He had taken his wife along and gone to a health resort in Värmland in order to rehabilitate himself in earnest, at the department’s expense. After he showered, had breakfast, and leafed through the morning paper, it was still only nine o’clock, and ahead of him stretched an entirely free day, long as a marathon and hardly enticing for an old sprinter like Jarnebring. At that point he decided to call his best friend and former colleague, Police Superintendent Lars Martin Johansson, at the National Bureau of Criminal Investigation.

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