TRANSCRIPT OF INTERVIEW WITH MARTIN BENNER (MB).

INTERVIEWER: FREDRIK OHLANDER (FO), freelance journalist.

LOCATION:

Room 714, Grand Hôtel, Stockholm.

FO:  I don’t know what to say about what I’ve heard so far. You probably said it best yourself. Christ, what a clichéd story.

MB:  Isn’t it? And believe me, it’s going to get even worse.

FO:  Is that possible?

MB:  I’m afraid so. Take the weather, for instance. Do you remember how much it rained back at the start of the summer? Remember how wet and horrible it was? Sometimes I wonder if all that wetness made a difference somehow. That life sort of turned into slippery soap, and that’s why I lost my grip on it.

FO:  You mean you had control of your life before . . . well, before all that happened?

MB:  I did. I’m very conscientious. I know, it doesn’t look like it, but I am. Before all hell broke loose I was in control. Of everything. And now . . . everything’s different. Everything.

(Silence)

MB:  But we were going to take everything from the start, wasn’t that what you said?

FO:  That’s right.

MB:  It started with the rain. I think it’s fair to say that. If it hadn’t been for the rain, I don’t think I would have embarked upon the whole project the way I did.

FO:  The project?

MB:  Trying to get Sara pardoned posthumously. I can’t explain why it became so important to me. I mean, she was already dead, after all. Which, in a way, is also partly how this all started. With Sara dying. If only she’d been alive. Then I could have gone directly to her instead. But of course that wasn’t possible now.

FO:  Do you regret it?

MB:  Do I regret what?

FO:  Deciding to help her.

(Silence)

MB:  What am I supposed to say to that? On the one hand there’s only one answer to that question, which is of course I fucking do. But on the other hand . . . is there anything more pointless? Than regret? I don’t really think there is. That was then and this is now.

FO:  That’s very poetic.

MB  (Laughing quietly): Poetic but true. It all feels so distant now. Even the rain has gone.

FO:  So what happened? You called Bobby T. and said you were going to help him?

MB:  I called him. Then we had another meeting. And by then  . . .

FO:  By then?

MB  (Whispering): By then, without even knowing it, I’d already started to dig my own grave.