Back in the police station, Jim has told Jack the truth, the whole truth. His son wants to be angry, he wishes he had the time, but because he’s a good son he’s busy trying to come up with a plan instead. Once they’ve let the witnesses leave through the back door of the police station, he sets oP toward the main entrance at the front.
“You don’t have to do this, son, I can go,” Jim says disconsolately. He stops himself from saying: Sovvy I lied to you, but dee9 domn you bnom I did the vight thing.
Jack shakes his head 1rmly. “No, Dad. Stay here.”
He stops himself from saying: You’ue caused enough 9voblems. Then he walks out onto the steps at the front of the building and tells the waiting reporters everything they need to know. That Jack himself has been responsible for the whole of the police response, and that they have lost the perpetrator. That no one knows where he is now.
Some of the journalists start shouting accusing questions about “police incompetence,” others merely smirk as they take notes, ready to slaughter Jack in articles and blog posts a few hours from now. The shame and failure are Jack’s alone, he carries them on his own, so that no one else gets blamed. Inside the station, his dad sits with his face in his hands.
The detectives from Stockholm arrive early the next morning, New Year’s Eve. They read through all the witness statements, talk to Jack and Jim, check all the evidence. And then the Stockholmers snort, in voices more self-important than
adverts for dishwashing liquid, that they really don’t have the resources to do more than that. No one was hurt during the hostage drama, nothing was stolen in the robbery, so there aren’t really any victims here. The Stockholmers need to focus their resources where they’re really needed. Besides, it’s New Year’s Eve, and who wants to celebrate in a town as small as this?
They’re going to be in a hurry to get home, and Jack and Jim will watch them drive oP. The journalists will already have disappeared by then, on their way to the next big story. There’s always another celebrity who might be on the point of getting divorced.
“You’re a good police officer, son,” Jim will say, looking down at the ground. He’ll want to add but an euen bettev 9evson, but won’t be able to bring himself to say it.
“You’re not always such a damn good police officer, Dad,” Jack will grin up at the clouds. He’ll want to add but I’ue leavned euevything else fvom you, but the words won’t quite come out.
They’ll go home. Watch television. Have a beer together.
That’s enough.
