“Book Descriptions: September 2011. An older writer is on a health trip to Crete's north coast. On the first, early morning, he goes down to the beach, unfolds one of the hotel's deck chairs and has just settled down with a novel when a Swedish travel companion appears. The Swede takes his morning bath and then approaches the author with a comment about his book, and so they get to talking on the cold morning beach. A chill runs through the Swede. - "För jävligt kallt", he comments, - doesn't that mean anything to you? "För jävligt callt. The Prime Minister shot."
With these key words from a conversation over the police radio on 28 February 1986, the author is brought to the pavement at the intersection Sveavägen-Tunnelgatan, where the Swedish Prime Minister Olof Palme was shot at 11 21 pm. - Perhaps I should introduce myself, says the morning bather. - My name is Lundin. I saw the murder of Olof Palme.
"Lundin" is a novel that quite freely moves between sunny Crete and the dark winter night in Stockholm. It is about lies and false memories, about reading and interpretation, about listening and accepting someone else's story. The author allows himself to be seduced by Lundin's meticulous account of the movements of everyone involved on the night of the murder, of the victim, the witnesses and the suspects, and especially of Stig Engström, alias the Skandiamannen. - Never get involved in the miserable Palme murder, says Lundin to the author. - You will never come out again. Never.” DRIVE
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