Laughter is hard to find in The Laughing Policeman, a singularly grim police procedural that centers around a Swedish police team’s investigation of a mass murder that took place on board a bus in Stockholm. Such a scenario might seem counterintuitive, because we all know that Sweden is one of the safest countries on Earth. Yet Stockholm, such a beautiful and sedate city, is also a city of extremes - so sunny and warm in the summer, so dark and cold in the winter - and therefore it is an eminently suitable setting for a murder mystery.
Nowadays, the Stockholm murder mysteries that are all the rage are Stieg Larsson's Millennium novels; but forty years before Larsson, the writing team of Maj Sjövall and Per Wahlöö created their own powerful series of mystery novels, centering around the phlegmatic and taciturn Martin Beck and his fellow Stockholm homicide detectives. And it may be that the best-known of the Sjövall-Wahlöö team’s Martin Beck novels is the fourth book in the series, 1970’s The Laughing Policeman.
If The Laughing Policeman is one of the better-known of Sjövall and Wahlöö’s Martin Beck novels, that may be in part because it was adapted for cinema in 1973. The film featured good actors (Walter Matthau, Bruce Dern, Louis Gossett Jr., Anthony Zerbe, Joanna Cassidy), but the filmmakers moved the story’s action from Stockholm to San Francisco. Perhaps it was thought that a U.S. setting would bring more American viewers into the theatres.
Yet the Swedish setting of Den skrattande polisen is vital, because when this novel begins with a mass shooting on a city bus, it is the first mass shooting in all of Swedish history – certainly not something that could be said of the more violent society of the U.S.A. Indeed, it is a sad commentary on the violence of American life that Martin Beck’s detectives begin their research by studying the many mass shootings that have occurred in the United States, looking for characteristics that could help them identify the murderer. Stockholm is knocked on its civic ear, and the city's leadership puts pressure on Beck and his colleagues to solve the crime quickly.
Part of the pleasure of the police procedural is the idea that the application of a rational thought process to factual evidence can bring order and truth out of the seeming chaos and undeniable violence of everyday life. Beck and his detective team are admirably methodical in considering every specific of this murder case, as shown in this conversation between two of Beck’s detectives:
Hammar went on staring at him. Kollberg followed his look and said, by way of diverting his attention, “All we know is that someone shot nine people in a bus last night. And that he followed the internationally familiar pattern of sensational mass murders by not leaving any traces, and by not getting caught. He can, of course, have committed suicide, but in that case we know nothing about it. We have two substantial clues – the bullets and the fired cases, which may possibly lead us to the weapon, and the man in the hospital, who might regain consciousness and tell us who fired the shots. As he was sitting at the rear of the bus, he must have seen the murderer.” (p. 51)
In a nod to Sweden's “Third Way” tradition of social democracy, each member of Beck's team has a particular talent - one can remember every detail of every unsolved “cold case,” another can find any hidden object in a room - and together they conduct a conscientious and detailed investigation that helps the reader hope that the murders will be solved.
If this crime had been nothing more than a horrific act of mass violence, with no apparent motive except the killing of many human beings as possible – if, in short, it had been like many of the most notorious mass shootings that have taken place here in the United States – then there would not be much of a story to tell. Yet in the case of The Laughing Policeman, Martin Beck and his detectives eventually find themselves concluding, after a great deal of diligent and challenging investigative work, that the crime was not an example of random violence, as they had initially thought, as shown by this conversation between Kollberg and Martin Beck:
“The situation is as follows,” [Kollberg] said with his mouth full….“The working hypothesis is therefore this: A person armed with a Suomi submachine gun, model 37, shoots nine people dead on a bus. These people have no connection with each other, they merely happen to be in the same place at the same time.”
“The gunman has a motive,” Martin Beck said.
“Yes,” Kollberg said, reaching for the Mazarine cupcake. “That’s what I’ve thought all along. But he can’t have a motive for killing people haphazardly. Therefore his real intention is to eliminate one of them.”
“The murder was carefully planned,” Martin Beck said.
“One of the nine,” Kollberg said. But which?” (p. 107)
The identities of two victims -- one was an ambitious young detective seeking to make a name for himself, while the other was a low-level underworld figure -- provide important clues.
Over the three prior Martin Beck novels, Sjövall and Wahlöö put considerable emphasis on the psychological toll that police work takes on Beck and the members of his detective team. For this reason, I was glad that Sjövall and Wahlöö took some time to depict Beck’s strained home life with his family. If you’ve been wondering why such a painfully serious police procedural has a title like The Laughing Policeman, then please be advised that it has to do with a breakfast-time conversation between Martin Beck and his daughter Ingrid:
“What are you thinking about, Daddy?”
“Nothing,” he said automatically.
“I haven’t seen you laugh since last spring.”
Martin Beck raised his eyes from the Christmas brownies dancing in a long line along the oilcloth bedspread, looked at his daughter, and tried to smile. Ingrid was a good girl, but that wasn’t much to laugh at, either….
“On Christmas Eve you’re going to laugh anyway,” she said.
“Really?”
“Yes. When you get my Christmas present.” (p. 155)
The ultimate resolution of the case – and I am taking pains to avoid the need for a spoiler alert here – is both more and less than one might expect. On the one hand, there is no vast, all-encompassing conspiracy that reaches up to the highest levels of the Swedish Government. On the other hand, the mass murder on the bus is the culmination of a series of vile crimes committed by a person who might have seemed educated and affluent enough to have known better.
One of Beck’s detectives, Gunvald Larsson, confides to Beck that he feels a particular loathing for the perpetrator of the bus murders because the killer is an example of the “Smug swine who think only of their money and their houses and their families and their so-called status. Who think they can order others about, merely because they happen to be better off. There are thousands of such people….[W]e never get at them. We only see their victims. This guy’s an exception” (pp. 210-11).
Among the other strengths of this novel is the manner in which it recreates the tensions of 1960's life, with anti-Vietnam War protesters in front of the U.S. Embassy, and a generalized fear that society is somehow going off the rails.
Strange to reflect that Sweden, one of the safest nations on earth, has produced so many fine crime writers. I read this book while visiting Stockholm, noticing how – when the sun finally starts to set, late on a summer night – the evening sky takes on a particularly deep blue, and the golden moon against that dark-blue sky starts to give the cityscape of the delightful Swedish capital a decided feel of menace. The Laughing Policeman is a powerful and well-crafted police procedural.