the Prime Minister?”
“No. Who is that?”
“He is the head of the government and the leading politician of the country.”
“Then he’s a bad man,” said Rebecka Lind. “I know that Sweden has built an atomic power station in Barsebäck in Skåne, and it’s only twenty-five kilometers from the center of Copenhagen. They say the government is to blame for the destruction of the environment.”
“Rebecka,” said Bulldozer Olsson in a friendly way, “how do you know about things like atomic power when you don’t even know the name of the Prime Minister?”
“My friends talk about that sort of thing, but they aren’t interested in politics.”
Crasher let everyone think that over. Then he said, “Before you went to see this bank director, whose name I have unfortunately forgotten, presumably forever, had you ever been inside a bank before?”
“No, never.”
“Why not?”
“What for? Banks are for the rich. I and my friends never go into such places.”
“And nevertheless you did go there,” said Crasher. “Why?”
“Because I needed money. One of my friends said that you could borrow money from a bank. Then when that horrible bank manager said that there were banks owned by the people, I thought maybe I could get some money there.”
“So when you went to the PK Bank, you really thought you could borrow some money from them?”
“Yes, but I was surprised it was so easy. I never even had time to say how much I needed.”
Bulldozer, who had now realized what line the defense was taking, hurried to intervene. “Rebecka,” he said, a smile covering his face, “there are some things I simply don’t understand. How is it possible, with all today’s mass media, that a person can avoid learning the simplest facts about society?”
“Your society isn’t mine,” said Rebecka Lind.
“You’re wrong, Rebecka,” said Bulldozer. “We live together in this country and we have mutual responsibility for what is good or bad. But I would like to know how a person can avoid hearing what is said on the radio and television and entirely miss what is written in the newspapers.”
“I have neither radio nor TV and the only things I read in the papers are the horoscopes.”
“But you went to school for nine years, didn’t you?”
“They just tried to teach us a lot of nonsense. I didn’t listen.”
“But money,” said Bulldozer, “money is something everyone’s interested in.”
“Not me.”
“Where did you get the money to live on?”
“Welfare. But I needed very little. Until now.”
The judge then read out the character appraisal which was not quite so lacking in interest as Braxén had predicted.
Rebecka Lind was born on January 3, 1956, and grew up in a lower middle class home. Her father was an office manager in a small building firm. Their home circumstances had been good, but Rebecka had very early on rebelled against her parents, and this antagonism had culminated when she was sixteen years old. She had been remarkably uninterested in school and had left after the ninth grade. Her teachers considered her fund of knowledge to be frighteningly inadequate. Although she did not lack intelligence, her attitudes were strange and divorced from reality. She had not been able to find work and showed no interest in doing so. When she was sixteen years old, life at home had become difficult and she moved out. Questioned by the investigator, the father said that this had been best for them all, as the parents had other children who were less of a disappointment to them.
At first she lived in a country cottage, which she had on more or less permanent loan from an acquaintance and which she kept after she managed to acquire a little cold-water apartment in the southern part of Stockholm. At the beginning of 1973 she met an American deserter named Jim Cosgrave and moved in with him. Rebecka soon became pregnant, which was her own wish, and in January 1974 she gave birth to a daughter,
“No. Who is that?”
“He is the head of the government and the leading politician of the country.”
“Then he’s a bad man,” said Rebecka Lind. “I know that Sweden has built an atomic power station in Barsebäck in Skåne, and it’s only twenty-five kilometers from the center of Copenhagen. They say the government is to blame for the destruction of the environment.”
“Rebecka,” said Bulldozer Olsson in a friendly way, “how do you know about things like atomic power when you don’t even know the name of the Prime Minister?”
“My friends talk about that sort of thing, but they aren’t interested in politics.”
Crasher let everyone think that over. Then he said, “Before you went to see this bank director, whose name I have unfortunately forgotten, presumably forever, had you ever been inside a bank before?”
“No, never.”
“Why not?”
“What for? Banks are for the rich. I and my friends never go into such places.”
“And nevertheless you did go there,” said Crasher. “Why?”
“Because I needed money. One of my friends said that you could borrow money from a bank. Then when that horrible bank manager said that there were banks owned by the people, I thought maybe I could get some money there.”
“So when you went to the PK Bank, you really thought you could borrow some money from them?”
“Yes, but I was surprised it was so easy. I never even had time to say how much I needed.”
Bulldozer, who had now realized what line the defense was taking, hurried to intervene. “Rebecka,” he said, a smile covering his face, “there are some things I simply don’t understand. How is it possible, with all today’s mass media, that a person can avoid learning the simplest facts about society?”
“Your society isn’t mine,” said Rebecka Lind.
“You’re wrong, Rebecka,” said Bulldozer. “We live together in this country and we have mutual responsibility for what is good or bad. But I would like to know how a person can avoid hearing what is said on the radio and television and entirely miss what is written in the newspapers.”
“I have neither radio nor TV and the only things I read in the papers are the horoscopes.”
“But you went to school for nine years, didn’t you?”
“They just tried to teach us a lot of nonsense. I didn’t listen.”
“But money,” said Bulldozer, “money is something everyone’s interested in.”
“Not me.”
“Where did you get the money to live on?”
“Welfare. But I needed very little. Until now.”
The judge then read out the character appraisal which was not quite so lacking in interest as Braxén had predicted.
Rebecka Lind was born on January 3, 1956, and grew up in a lower middle class home. Her father was an office manager in a small building firm. Their home circumstances had been good, but Rebecka had very early on rebelled against her parents, and this antagonism had culminated when she was sixteen years old. She had been remarkably uninterested in school and had left after the ninth grade. Her teachers considered her fund of knowledge to be frighteningly inadequate. Although she did not lack intelligence, her attitudes were strange and divorced from reality. She had not been able to find work and showed no interest in doing so. When she was sixteen years old, life at home had become difficult and she moved out. Questioned by the investigator, the father said that this had been best for them all, as the parents had other children who were less of a disappointment to them.
At first she lived in a country cottage, which she had on more or less permanent loan from an acquaintance and which she kept after she managed to acquire a little cold-water apartment in the southern part of Stockholm. At the beginning of 1973 she met an American deserter named Jim Cosgrave and moved in with him. Rebecka soon became pregnant, which was her own wish, and in January 1974 she gave birth to a daughter,
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