The 101-Year-Old Man Who Skipped Out on the Bill and Disappeared (2016) - full transcript

NETFLIX PRESENTS

NICE FLX PICTURES PRESENTS

A NETFLIX ORIGINAL FILM

NEWS

A SON
YXHULT 2 MAY 1916

MERCHANT BLOWN UP
UNDERAGE CITIZEN ARRESTED

FRIDAY 10 JULY 1938

'CASTRATION, HUMANE
SOLUTION FOR YOUNG DEVIANTS'

FRANCO MIRACULOUSLY SAVED
BY COMMUNIST DESERTER

100-YEAR-OLD MISSING
FROM NURSING HOME

WANTED MC-GANG BOSS MISSING
AFTER ACCIDENT



WANTED MC-GANG BOSS MISSING
AFTER ACCIDENT

101-year-old Man Who Skipped Out
on the Bill and Disappeared

Oh, so you decided to putter
around in here, then?

That's mostly old receipts and junk.

Check in the back, I bet you can find
something to play with there.

Well, look at that!

So what did you find?

Oh...

This old bottle.

Allan?

Allan?

There... Right.

Let's see what they've come up with, eh?

No, no! Those two!



- Allan? Allan?
- Yes.

Come here.

Come on...

Did you count
all the candles?

We'll move it after he blows
the candles out.

Perfect, Allan. Get over here.

- What the hell is all this?
- It's time to toast Allan.

Hang on, let him blow out the candles.

And let's skip
the bloody annoying birthday song...

- Blow out the candles.
- Right...

- There. Good job, Allan.
- Bravo.

There! Bravo!

- I'm still pregnant.
- That you are...

- Water's fine.
- Can't we get you something festive?

- You're right, I'll have a soda.
- A soda?

- Any special requests?
- It doesn't matter.

- Because...
- I'm not a huge soda fan anyway.

- Pick the one that appeals to you.
- OK.

- Pick one.
- It doesn't matter which one.

I was worried about aspartame.

- Thank you.
- Oh...

Well, Allan...

101 years old today...

Cheers, old friend.

Well, "old" is pushing it,
it was only a year ago

that you showed up
with that suitcase full of money.

In a flash, we were on the road.
Or on the run, is more like it.

And then along came Benny with a car
right when we needed one.

- Let's get to the toast already...
- Then we ended up here.

With that chick you were sweet on.

The one who two-timed you
in the most humiliating way.

- Left you moping like a kid.
- That's right...

- Christ!
- Can we leave it alone?

- Remember?
- I remember.

But everything turned out fine
once Miriam came and set up shop.

Cheers!

Too bad you'll be leaving us,
we'll miss you!

- So, let's raise our glasses for Allan.
- To Allan!

Cheers, Allan!

And we were thinking...

- What is this?
- Well...

- They called it Folksoda.
- It's incredibly tasty!

- It's kid's stuff...
- Even you would like this.

- Let Julius have a taste.
- Sure.

- This is the last bottle.
- My, aren't we generous!

Come on, I'm pregnant,
this is all I get to drink.

Goddamn, that's tasty!

Fill 'er up!

I can't pick and choose,
you know...

Erlander! Damn it! Stop!

Erlander, no!

Allan, don't you have a command?

Erlander!

Here, kitty, kitty, kitty...

Don't drink it!

Don't drink, fucking monkey!

Damn dirty ape!

Don't you have any control over him?

Nope.

Thanks.

Take care.

We'll do our best.

Listen, didn't we say...
that we'd split the money that's left?

- Divvy up the crumbs?
- What? It's gone?

How the dickens did that happen?

- Allan, do you have any cash left?
- Nope.

- And what do we do about Gäddan?
- Gäddan?

After all, it was his money to start with.
Sort of...

I wouldn't remind him, for his own sake.

Have you ever seen a happier person?

♪ Hadelatten da-da, um-pa-pa-pa
Don't you do it, it's against the law ♪

♪ Hadelatten da-da, um-pa-pa-pa
Don't you do it, it's against the law ♪

Bye, Allan.

Hope you get there
before that kid pops out.

You don't have
any more of that Folksoda, do you?

Nope, it's finito.

- Nothing tucked away anywhere else?
- No.

Get in.

- Are you sure?
- Stop it!

That Folksoda
certainly has put ideas

into people's heads over the years.

Total coincidence that the stuff
was ever concocted in the first place.

Back in the Cold War days,
I moonlighted as an agent,

spying both for the Russians
and for the Yanks.

But according to my papers,
I was a studio musician.

Had a better ring to it
than "occupation: spy"

at the East Berlin checkpoint.

My old friend Popov didn't have
a bathtub or a shower at home,

so we'd make our exchanges
at various bath houses.

- Is this a satellite image?
- Yeah.

Popov was a nice guy,
although inclined to whine:

Know why everybody
thinks the US is so fucking great?

Who knows...

Can't be their bourbon,
it's watered-down cat piss!

USA's the best.
Americans are so awesome.

Chewing gum the best,
hot dogs the best,

roller skates the best.

Everything is the best.

Yes, the best.

And the Russians bad, bad, bad.
They are the best.

I don't know...

I brought back some doohickeys
from the States. For your kid.

Allan... Thank you.

- Rock-and-roll.
- Right.

I thought maybe Popov would
throw the gifts in the trash,

but he seemed
quite taken by the stuff.

So much that he brought them
along to the Kremlin.

"Kiss"?

Comrade General Secretary...

We were the first to send
plants and dogs into space.

But that's 15 years ago. Since then,
the Americans have been to the moon.

Like I believe that!

The American flag
waving in spite of the lack of wind.

So what do you propose?

Hit them where it hurts!

Fashion, rock-and-roll,
soda pop...

What if the whole world
was listening to Russian music?

What would happen if everyone
wanted to be like the Russians?

What are you saying?
That we should become capitalists?

No, no...

But the world is changing.
Pop culture has an incredible impact.

We defeat them there,
and the rest will follow:

image, economy,
military strength, the works!

Well...

I don't dislike the thought
of Dick Nixon wearing Russian jeans.

Brezhnev,
he pushed the button straight away.

Things were going
to get hopping in the old USSR.

♪ My balla balla balla balla
rocking balalajka ♪

♪ Balla balla rocking balalajka... ♪

As far as I could tell
it was a total bust,

both the jeansification
and the balalaika rock drive.

I know
what you're planning...

"I know you're
planning to build

two new missile bases
in Europe this year."

Yes, and what do you plan on doing
about it, Mr Brezhnev?

"What are you planning
to do about it?"

I mean, torturing us
with some more pathetic attempts

at rock music?

♪ Balla balla rocking balalajka... ♪

With their music
and jeans bombing big-time,

the soda scheme
became the Russians' last hope.

They worked triple shifts in the lab,

stirring their beakers night and day.

Like to have some?

I'd love to.

Hey, what's going on?

You're diminishing our olfactory
capacities! Put that out! Now!

Delicious... Want some?

Fire! Fire!

Let's go! Out!

What's wrong with you?
Are you crazy? Come on!

Hot damn! Look at those fireworks!

In the midst of all the commotion,

the ingredients came together.

In a random way.

And the result...

was yummy.

But quality comes at a price.

And possibly, the price to pay
for Folksoda was too high.

"Folksoda."

Yuck, ginger!

It's barely edible, so why would
you want to drink the stuff?

And we're out of Folksoda.

Yeah, and they say
that I'm sitting on the secret formula.

Right...

What's that?
You've got the Folksoda formula?

- That's what they claim.
- Where is it?

You know, I smoked quite a bit
back then. Cigars.

Cigarettes are so bloody small.

They don't do much for you,
puffing away 'til you're blue in the face.

Where is the formula?

Well... I kept it in one of those...

what do you call it...?

- One of those flat little...
- A cigar box?

No.

Yes. A cigar box.

So where is it?

- In Berlin.
- What?

It's in a cigar box,
at Amanda Einstein's place.

In Berlin.

Ahh!

Hel-hello?

Hoo-hoo...

Hoo-hoo?

- Is she there?
- Hello?

Yeah, hello. Allan here.

Allan Karlsson.

Are you calling
from the other side?

From the other side? No...

I'm on this side!

- I'm sitting right here!
- Go on, ask her.

Listen, I was wondering...

Do you still live where you used to live?

Yes, I do.

Why do you ask?

- She's still there.
- Good, let's go.

Why? Because the Folksoda
formula's at your place.

Allan, don't go
telling her that...

It is?

In my cigar box.

Hang up.

Or did you throw my box out?

Do you want me to throw it out?

No, don't!

- Hang up!
- She sounds pretty confused.

She's a heavy drinker.
Knocks 'em back like they do at a brothel.

Amanda, we're on our way...

Danke, bye-bye.

We'd better get
our butts in gear. Let's go.

Fine. Sounds good.

Listen, Allan, put this on.
Thought we'd skip out on the bill.

They usually take their sweet time
bringing the check around anyway...

Oh...

So you've got cabin fever too?

All right then, duck.

- Hi.
- Are you going swimming?

Swimming? Maybe.

- Can I tag along?
- Sure.

Hello, hello.
I would like to buy two tickets...

No, three!

Three?

Three tickets from Denpasar
to Berlin, first-class.

Or, no, economy.

Get a move on!

- Hello.
- Hello.

Dump the robes.

I'll help you.

Get over here, Gäddan.

Gäddan, come here.

Here... This one.

- What does this do?
- Rev it up!

- Watch out...
- Go, go!

We're fine!

Hoo-hoo!

- Where are we going swimming?
- Berlin.

- Uh, take belt off.
- Uh, no.

- Take it off.
- No, no, no!

I mean, uh, I have suspenders...

Look!

What?

It's that YouTube guy.

Ahh! Mr Old man
in the YouTube.

Where is your monkey?

- Huh?
- Yeah, the little monkey.

It's the fucking monkey,
fucking monkey.

The fucking monkey. Soft drink.
Soft drinking, YouTube.

- Monkey?
- Yeah, your monkey. YouTube.

Stop drinking! Fucking monkey!
In the YouTube! Fucking monkey!

Stop drinking!

Have these guys
been smoking dope?

YouTube, what's that?

It's like TV, only it's all crap.

I see...

Stop. Erlander!
Don't drink! Fucking monkey!

Wait, not now,
not now, not now...

- But now! It's him, Allan Karlsson.
- Right, it's Allan Karlsson.

- The man who swindled my father.
- You've mentioned him. A lot.

- Look!
- Yes, Stina, I can see it just fine.

- Sit back down.
- That bastard's still alive!

Could this be wishful thinking?

That Allan Karlsson would
somehow come back from the dead?

No, no... I recognise him.

Listen! The other old guy...

He's shouting "Allan! Allan!"

Why is this formula so important to you?

He promised my father
to give me the formula,

but he screwed me over, screwed
my daddy over, maybe even killed him.

You're losing your temper again.
People stop listening when that happens.

Good.

We could start our own soda factory.

Patent the Folksoda formula.
Don't you get it, Allan?

There you are, sir.
Vodka and Coke.

It appeals
to people of all ages.

Wonder how much we could sell?

Who knows...
Highballs are more my cup of tea.

Say a number.

Three.

Are you off your rocker?

We're talking about 10,000
or even 100,000 a month!

Wonder how much profit
there is per bottle?

At any rate,
we're talking about a fortune.

Right...

Hello, Amanda.

I wondered when you'd be
getting here. Where are you now?

Who knows...

Over Russia, I think.

- What was that?
- What does the formula look like?

- Excuse me, sir.
- Yes.

You can't talk on the phone.

- I can't? Yes, I can. I have one blip.
- Please, sir, it's not allowed.

- Where is your bag, sir? It's in here?
- No, no, next one, left one.

It's in a bowling bag.

It was just
a bloody phone call!

Aaah! Oh, my God!
There's a monkey on board.

Monkey!

You cheeky little thing,
don't spill any drinks.

Be nice to the lady. Come to daddy...

It's our monkey!
No problem.

Moscow airport. JB67.

Requesting permission
for emergency landing.

We have, uh, a monkey on board.

We can let them go.

Well, hello, Tage Erlander.

Hi there, boy.

The monkey must remain
in quarantine.

This will be a matter for the courts.
Fill out your address in Moscow.

Could you help me with a hotel address?

The only Russian address I've had
was a labour camp in Vladivostok.

What a relief to be free.
Full speed to Berlin.

You book the tickets. You know the lingo,
I can't make heads or tails of it.

I'll take care of it as soon
as Erlander is returned to me.

You can pick him up later on.

Gäddan, over here. Let's...

- Hello.
- Did you hear the news?

They said a plane from Bali
was forced to land in Moscow.

Stina, this is my home...

Some Swedes
had smuggled a monkey aboard.

- We'll discuss this on Friday.
- One of the men was 101.

- It's got to be Allan Karlsson!
- Hush! Come on in.

- Moscow, he's in Moscow!
- Yes, and how do you feel about that?

- I need Inderal.
- What?

- Inderal, it's a sedative.
- What for?

Mine are all gone
and I must go to Moscow.

That doesn't sound like a good idea.

All my life, I thought that formula
was lost to me.

Now I have the chance to get it back.
I've got to go.

I really wouldn't recommend it.
Sit down, Stina.

If you go to Moscow,

you won't be on top of situations
that might trigger an aggressive response.

- Håkan, come along with me!
- What?

If you do, I promise not to get angry.

You could help me so much more
by coming along.

That's unprofessional, I can't do that...

Sure you can!

Sure you can.

Hey, honey. I'm home.

Hi. Yeah, you all right?

Yeah. What are you doing?

I'm fixing this shitty old thing.

Jesus, what happened there?

I was attacked by a monkey.

By a monkey?

- Yeah.
- You fucking someone else?

- No.
- Careful, I don't wanna be mugged off.

We had to make
an emergency landing in Moscow.

Yeah, all right, but what about that?

This is going to sound really strange
but there was this 100-year-old man

who had a monkey in his carry-on.

Hold on, 100 years old?

Yes. I thought they were calling him
"Allah" at first.

Allan? Was his name Allan Karlsson,
and was he 100 years old?

He's the one!

What's the matter with you?
I told you he's the one!

Right? He's the one who stole
Pim's money!

No, Bas,
no, you should have seen him.

There's no way that sweet old man
could have done any of that stuff.

Sweet? He stole fifty fucking million.

He murdered my fucking brother.

All right? He is an evil old bastard,
and I am fucking having him.

Moscow, you said?

Which airport?

Those Russians are sweaty.

You're not exactly
bone dry yourself.

Their faces are so bloody shiny.

There's a view of the lake. See it?

Benny, you told me it was a restaurant.

- No, I said it was a cafeteria.
- No, you said "restaurant."

No, I said it's practically
a restaurant.

There will be outdoor seating...

- Where are we going to live?
- I'll show you.

This is the entrance.

So... Welcome home, both of you.

Is the other room any bigger?

No.

Shut the fuck up!

Excuse me,
where can I find the police?

Over there? Thank you.

Hello.

May I ask you about those Swedes
who were thrown off a plane?

One of them is my grandfather.
Could you tell me where they are now?

This isn't the information desk.

I understand...

I'm sorry Gramps has been causing
you trouble, please accept my apology.

- Is that a bribe?
- Hush!

Their monkey,
don't you want to take it with you?

The monkey? No, no...

But that address would be nice.

You've met everybody,
so isn't there some minister or general

that can help us spring your monkey?

Sure, the president.

You know him?
That takes the bloody... Call him!

I don't know about that,
it was Brezhnev.

So I don't expect he'll be picking up.

Brezhnev,
now he was quite a character.

The first time I met him
was at a film shoot,

a Folksoda commercial.

Popov's soda scheme had become
one of Brezhnev's pet projects.

Are they going to play much longer?

- What's going on here?
- Stop!

Comrade General Secretary,

we film the material using several
cameras and edit the best bits together...

Oh... Popov!

Come on over. Come on.

Look who's here, a proper hero.

And a proper hero
needs a proper reward.

There.

Well done! You deserve it.

Comrade General Secretary,
one moment, please.

Could you come on over?

My daughter.

What a lovely girl.

- What might your name be?
- Kristina.

Your dad's a hero, did you know that?
A hero... Have a seat.

Christ! Can't you just
be quiet for a while?

Uh, this may not be the best time
to bring him the news.

OK.

No, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck! No! Shit!

Who oiled these lanes, anyway?

Don't bother me right now.

Mr President,
I thought you should know

that the satellite photos that we believe
to be a Russian nuclear station

have, in fact, turned out to be
a soda factory.

Mr Karlsson has been there.

- Allan, can you show them the bottle?
- Yeah, sure.

I suppose it's got that, uh...

what is it, that balakai flavouring?

Uh, balalaika.

That's all they've really got going
over there in their "hip" department.

Well, this is some tasty shit
but it's still just a soda pop.

- Sir, can I, uh, have a taste?
- No.

Pepsi and Coca-Cola company together
gross more than five times

the entire Russian defines budget.

With the right marketing campaign,

this could make billions
for the Russian state.

- Just a swig?
- Knock it off.

What do you think would
happen to the U.S. image abroad

if the Soviets suddenly started producing
the most refreshing soft drinks?

What if the whole world suddenly starts
coveting Russian consumer goods?

Imagine, Times Square
with Russian ads.

As if I don't have enough shit
to deal with already.

Listen, we need to get our hands
on that formula

before they start mass-producing.

OK, sir, copy.

Say... get me another bottle of that.

- Uh, but that's the only one we have.
- Yeah.

That's not my problem.
Get me another bottle.

Copy.

- He's a cuckoo man. I can't-
- Shh!

The Yanks weren't taking any chances,

so they nabbed the formula.

It would have been awkward
to ask for it and be turned down.

When Brezhnev found out that he needed
to find a new lab supervisor

and that the formula
had been stolen as well...

What formula, exactly?

...the words exchanged
were hardly endearments.

I'm warning you!

The Russians
went all in to get that formula back.

Close the curtain.

The Christmas cigars
Fidel Castro

gave the Soviet agents every year

came in handy once the formula
was transferred to microfiche.

You listen to me,
Mr Brezhnev.

"You murdered an American
on West German soil."

"You know exactly who it was
and what you did."

You still have your cola.

Enjoy!

Don't just stand there,
do something!

The Americans
also got new toys for Christmas.

Ow!

Didn't matter how crafty you were...

the Russians
tracked that formula down.

In the heat
of all that trickery and shooting,

both the Soviets and the Americans
lost track of who had the formula.

You must realize by now
that we will not allow you

to manufacture that beverage.

What do you mean?

"Is that a threat?"

Call it what you want.

Are you ready to sit down
and discuss this matter?

Yes.

What should we call these talks?

"Sweet" is too... too obvious.

What about "salt"?

All righty...

If we promise not to make any Folksoda,

you will immediately withdraw

your Pershing missiles.

We've got a deal.

So it made an impact after all,

that sugary red soda pop.

- Can I go for a swim?
- Not here.

You'll tip us over if you go in.

Then I want an ice cream.

Have you thought about
how to get that formula?

- I'll get a gun.
- A gun?

- Yes, we're in Moscow.
- Are you crazy? A gun?

He won't just
hand over the formula, you know.

You could make a deal, offer him money.

I'm no billionaire.
This is the world's best soft drink.

Don't you get it?
It's probably worth hundreds of millions.

- The monkey might be useful.
- The monkey?

- To seal the deal.
- Good idea! We'll kidnap the monkey.

"Kidnap" is a bit strong, but we can
trade the monkey for the formula.

Exactly...

I might be able to help out...

- Hello, Allan speaking.
- It's me, Miriam. Can you hear me?

- I can hear you.
- How are things going?

Swimmingly...

We're trying to Google Folksoda.
I have such a craving for more.

- Could you help us out?
- What do you want to know?

- Where can you get hold of some?
- The factory was in Kursk, Oblast.

- Kursk?
- Yes, and Tolstoy was the manager.

- Tolstoy...
- Mishenkov.

- What do they call Folksoda in Russian?
- In Russian?

Narodnaja sodovaja.

- What? Could you spell that?
- Narodnaja sodovaja!

- What's going on?
- You're yapping in stereo...

- Narodnaja...
- Listen up: narodnaja sodovaja!

Give it to me.

- So, it's a soda?
- Yes.

Listen, these 15 search warrants
in this combination

just triggered a severe warning.

A person using this IP address is a clear
threat to the security of our nation.

Is this soda poisonous, toxic?

We don't know, could be.

The initial case files date back
to the '70s and the cold war.

The Soviet formula got lost
and the people involved are all dead now.

- Exterminated.
- Jesus.

So, what's the process?

You'll be transferred to Sweden,

put in touch with the Swedish authorities
in Malmköping.

Luckily, we have full access
to their most experienced team.

- It's the big time.
- What do you mean?

We're having VIP visitors.
The CIA.

CIA? The famous CIA?

Yes, the famous CIA.

Holy shit! What do they want?

"We are the nation's
first line of defines.

We accomplish
what others cannot accomplish

and go where others cannot go."

Isn't that your motto too,
Aronsson?

Hang on...

Just look at Miriam, she can't let it go,

even though she had less than a bottle
of the stuff. She's a total junkie!

We could give away samples

and get people hooked on it.

- Hi.
- A Swede? Hi.

Sorry, I'm not bothering you, am I?

Guess that depends on what you want.

I understand that my words
might lead you to feel that way,

but it just so happens
that I have a surprise for you.

- Really?
- So I'd like to talk to you. In private.

This is my room number...

and I have "something" there
you might be pleased to see.

Very pleased, actually.
And surprised.

If you're looking
for some kind of intimate encounter...

- I'm not interested. And neither is he.
- No, no... it's nothing like that.

Not at all.
Listen, why don't you finish your meal?

Then come over for drinks
and we'll take it from there.

- Drinks are good.
- Yes, they are.

- Good, this is my room number.
- You told us already.

Good. See you later.

Bye.

Let's go for drinks,
even if his voice is a bit high-pitched.

He's my great uncle.

We're so worried about him.
He's a lovely man.

He had a monkey with him.
You must have seen him?

OK.

Looks like the whole family's
out looking for him.

Your daddy
will be here soon. There...

This is off-limits for you, by the way.
It's for grown-ups.

Or humans, if we're nit-picking words.

There.

Perfect. Let's see...

No, you can't do that.

You'd better...
Give me a break!

There...

That is not OK, you little asshole.

Cut it out...

Hey! Let go. Let go!

Let go, you fucking freak!

Just one drink.

Yes. Or two.

No, one.

Well hello, Erlander.
You certainly get around.

- Did you see that?
- That's great.

Hello?

Let's see if he has
anything for you to drink, Erlander.

Oh...

- Is he...?
- Yeah.

He sure drank himself to death
in record time.

Well, at least he won't
have a hangover tomorrow.

That was one hell of a surprise.

- A funnyman.
- A dead man.

Let's get a bloody move on.
Next stop, Berlin.

- I'll put this on...
- What are you doing?

- They'll have to clean up.
- Turn it to the red side.

You've reached Håkan. I can't come to
the phone right now. Have a nice day.

What's going on? They're leaving
for Berlin. We have to follow them.

Call me as soon as you can!

He has the tickets.

Hello.
There were three tickets to Berlin.

So I take them all. Thank you.

Doesn't Erlander
need a ticket?

No, he's just a pet.

- Excuse me, where are they going?
- To Berlin.

Thanks for your help.
That's brilliant.

- And you, you speak English, yeah?
- No.

Keep tabs on that primate
because it's non-stop from here on!

Keep tabs on yourself.

Here it is.

Fuck sake.

Fuck!

Fuck! Fuck!

I'm going to the dining car.

More food? Do you have worms?

No, I want booze.
Would they have that?

In Russia? That shouldn't be a problem.

Gäddan wants some ice cream,
one of those kiddy kinds with stickers.

Yes!

What's going on?

Hello.

I just want to put my bag there.

- Is...?
- Why don't you put it there?

- There's a lot of space.
- Sure. No problem. I did not see.

Oh. Hey.

Allan. Hello.

Hello. Stina.

Uh, we...

we're on our way to, uh, Berlin.

We're going swimming.

No.

We're very...
very long trip.

I go to Berlin, too.

- Don't tell her everything.
- The story's too long for that.

I meant about the formula.
You can be a real chatterbox.

- Really?
- It's our little secret.

Thank you.

- Cheers!
- Cheers!

Damn it...

Is this him?

Uh... I think so.

- Hi. Hi, hi, hi.
- Hi.

- Sorry. Glenn Aronsson
- No problem. Seth Goren.

Good morning, sir, Rebecca Norris.
Nice to meet you. CIA investigator.

- Oh, CIA, yeah, yeah.
- I'm a policeman, too.

Yes. Yes.
There's no people here today.

You know, it's closed.

It's a squeeze day.

Squeeze day? What's that?

Squeeze- uh, clamp-down

The alarm.

Uh, excuse me, Aaronsson.
Is this, uh...

Is this the network? "Polisen"?

Yes, but try instead "Lilla Napoli".

Wi-fi. It's much better, you know.

More quick.

Password is Bassola
with big B and two S.

Hello, hello. Morning.

Roland Magnusson,
chief here at the station.

Good morning, sir.
Rebecca Norris. CIA investigator.

Good morning, sir.
Seth Goren, inspector, CIA.

Nice to meet you.

Why the hell
did they call you first?

I don't know.

Whatever...

So nice to have you here.
So, what brings you to our little town?

Well, first of all, who will be
the point of contact here? You...

You'll be working with me.

Uh, and maybe a little
with Aaronsson, too.

We have a nondisclosure agreement
we need you to sign before we get started.

If you want your legal department
to look over it,

or if you have questions,
I'd be happy to...

No, no, it's fine.
I understand completely.

Where do we sign?

You're legally obligated to maintain
complete and total silence

concerning all information
about the case.

And you're strictly forbidden to speak
to anyone regarding this matter,

neither in part nor in whole.

Yes, boss.

Otherwise, you risk facing formal
prosecution in the American courts

and a prison sentence
of up to 200 years.

- Hiya...
- Hello.

The alarm went off. Who are you guys?

I forgot the code, but everything's fine.

- I need to see some ID.
- Really?

For God's sake! Beat it, we're cops.
I'm the Chief of Police.

They're police officers too, from America.

Go, you're making us look bad.

I still need to see some ID.

Then call the police
and we'll answer that phone over there.

Have you caught on yet?
Beat it. Just beat it!

I'll be reporting this...

Sorry, uh, what's going on?

Nothing. It's just a loser B-cop.

When I think about it, maybe it's better
that you just keep Aaronsson informed.

I won't have the time anyway.
My desk is full already, so, too bad.

But keep me... posted, you know,
what develops.

Without giving any details.

Or any of the other big pictures at all.

- Bye.
- Hmm.

Do you need a pen?

Hmm?

Mm-hmm.

Good morning.

Right...

Allan?

Allan?

Allan!

Look at all these games she has!

- Allan, are you in there?
- Yeah...

Keep your hair on, I'm just freshening up.

- Is the monkey taking a dump too?
- We'll see.

Hey, I need to piss.

Excuse me.

Gäddan?

- What are you doing here?
- Wait.

- What the fuck you doing here?
- Playing a game.

Yeah, well, I'm not. Where's Karlsson?
Where is the fucking money?

- What money?
- Fifty fucking million!

- Hurry...
- Where the fuck is it?!

Drop it!

Drop the gun! Drop it!

Come on...

Someone is shooting!

Allan!

Calm down.

Bloody hell!

Come on out!

What the hell is going on?

He was really angry.
He wanted 50 million.

-50 million?
- Who the hell was he?

- I don't know.
- Who cares?

He'll have to ask everyone on board
if he wants that much money.

Out of my fucking way!

- Damn it, Erlander's cushion.
- Forget about it!

- But our bags and...
- We've got to get away from here.

I'll sit in the back.

Everybody gets lucky sometime...

Please,
don't leave me here. Please!

No, but then
you have to hop in here.

- Is she coming along?
- There's room.

It's bloody hot,
we'll have to buy something to drink.

So you understand Swedish?

Yes. A little.

A little?

Sorry.

I was going to tell you
on board the train,

but the situation was so strange,
that I didn't.

Sorry. I'm really ashamed. Sorry.

- Anything else you've neglected to say?
- No, no...

- Why are you going to Berlin?
- For therapy.

- Trapeze?
- No, therapy, psychology.

- Oh, so you're in therapy?
- That's right.

- So you're kind of cuckoo?
- No... I'm...

Sometimes, I get angry and lose control.

Oh, sounds like fun. I'd like to see that.

Anything particular make you angry?

A man. A person.

What about him?

He tricked me. He ruined my life.
Screwed me over.

- Good thing you're angry.
- Yes, maybe.

Brezhnev,
he could sure get angry.

Particularly at Nixon, that little tease!

We take a step forward
in a peaceful and open relationships

between our two great nations.

Don't you agree, Leo?

Yes...

Yes, Janet.

We've been hearing a lot of rumours
about a hidden item in the treaty

which is not of a direct military nature.
Could you explain?

Yes, well, you know, we have spent
considerable amount of time

on this portion of the treaty
and Leo has been extremely generous.

And the point in question is very near
and dear to his heart.

He has agreed in this stipulation
to the treaty

that will prevent him from
ever releasing a follow-up

to "Rockin' Balalaika."

Jesus, did you hear that?

I knew it! I knew it!

I never should have had anything
to do with that business!

How could you convince me to do it?
Damn you!

I'm sorry, Comrade General Secretary.

You're sorry?

You made a fool out of me!

Go to hell!

Psst!

You've got to go right now.
Here's your passport and your ticket.

I'll be joining you. I'll be
leaving with Allan as soon as I can.

- Promise?
- Promise.

See you in Sweden.

If anything should happen to me,
Allan Karlsson will give you the formula.

Your future depends on him.
You do understand that, don't you?

I'm so sorry nothing turned out
the way I wanted it to.

There, there...

I love you.

Hey...

You're sweating bullets.
Do you have malaria?

Don't worry, we're almost there.

Allan, though the elbow is close,
you still cannot bite it.

Get out of the car!

Give it your best shot.

- I told you to get out!
- Hey!

Christ, they sure
got pissed off!

What?

Give it to K...

To who?

K...

The heat was really on,

so it was hard to make out the name.

Comrade Brezhnev? Kissinger? Castro?

Kekkonen seemed like a long-shot.

Hey, Allan. Allan!

Hello...

Allan! Hey...

Hello... Come on.

What? What the hell are you doing?

- We're there.
- What?

Berlin.
What do you say we lose the Band-Aid?

- Band-Aid?
- Yeah, psycho lady.

- Right.
- I've got a bad feeling...

Why is she following us?

- There's something fishy about it.
- You think?

- Good morning. Sleep well?
- No.

- Where are you going?
- Nowhere...

- May I stay with you?
- No, no, no...

- That'll be fine.
- Come on!

- It's nice to have young people around.
- You old goat!

- Thanks. Coffee? Sandwich?
- Hell, yes!

- Time to go see Amanda.
- Amanda?

Goodbye. Bye...

Sweetie?

Could you swing by
the senior centre in Malmköping?

Maybe Allan has a drop
of leftover Folksoda there.

- Sure. I'll do it.
- Thank you.

- Take care.
- Bye.

Where did you hide it?

Well, I put it...

I put it in one of those...

- Cigar boxes?
- Yes. No. Sort of...

- It was in a secret compartment.
- A secret compartment?

Right. Well...

on a shelf.

I see...

Behind... Yeah, behind...

something.

Amanda!

Allan, handsome as ever.

You've kept fit.

You haven't exactly
thrown the rifle into the sea yourself.

How lovely!
I don't get many gentlemen callers.

- I'm Amanda.
- Julius.

To be honest,
I don't get many lady callers either.

Maybe you'll remember
Allan called you about a cigar box?

I've had a look
around the place.

Is it fine
if I look around a little?

If that's OK.

Of course!

Yes, you can feel free, frei.

Allan? Allan...

Is it familiar?

Yes...

Vaguely.

Kind of hazy, though.

Wasn't that Herbert's?

That's right.

Amanda and Herbert Einstein

were not ones
to deny themselves a drink...

Or a smoke.

Allan!

♪ Hey babe,
let's go out tonight ♪

♪ You like me, and I like it all ♪

♪ We like dancing and we look divine ♪

♪ You love bands
when they're playing hard ♪

♪ You want more and you want it fast ♪

♪ They put you down... ♪

You want me to send a letter?

♪ Rebel, Rebel, it's on your dress ♪

♪ Rebel Rebel... ♪

Enjoy your trip.

No, I'm staying right here.

♪ How could they know? ♪

♪ Hot tramp, I love you so! ♪

You need a tattoo.

I do?

Yeeeeah.

I do.

He's a weird guy.

So strange.

You and I must have
ended up here at some point.

No, that's impossible.

- It isn't possible?
- No.

I have not mounted any ladies.

You're joking.

No.

Professor Lundborg
short-circuited my balls.

- Yes...
- So you don't feel anything?

I don't know...

Really?

Look at all this stuff!

- I've already checked over there.
- Yeah, yeah...

Well...

Oh, la la.

Yes... Oh!

What's that?

- The secret compartment?
- I don't know...

I'll ask Allan.

Hi...

- What did he say?
- Well... He said...

He said...

"hi."

He's unforgettable, that one.
What a spectacle!

Climbed out the window a year ago,
without a thought for anyone but himself.

- Oh, I'm sorry to hear that.
- How do you think it made me feel?

Standing there with the cake
in front of all those reporters.

I was as mortified as a spanked puppy!

That sounds terrible!

I understand. I'm so sorry...

Swallow!

- Why are you apologizing?
- I'm sorry.

Swallow!

- What do you want?
- Well, I...

Swallow!

The stuff that was in Allan's room
when he lived here,

is it still around
or did you throw it out?

Of course we don't
throw people's stuff away!

- Do you think I'm crazy, or what?
- Sorry.

There's a lot of crap in here.

Here it is.

Allan's, Allan's, Allan's...
All this and that chest of drawers too.

Time for my coffee break.

I won't be taking everything,
I'm looking for something in particular.

- "In particular"?
- Soda pop.

He sent you to pick up soda pop?
What a cheapskate!

It's pretty special:
Folksoda, it's Russian.

Like I care? Take everything!

- It won't fit in my car.
- It will.

Lock up when you leave.

Oh, no!

I'll show you, you skinny sonovabitch.

We have a criminal here
in Malmköping

who do almost all crimes.

He's called Löken.

The Onion.

Ugly fish.

Ugly fish?

He looks ugly,
is that what you're saying?

No. No, no, no, no.

Not in face, more as a person, you know.
He actually looks good.

Fish or not, this is something
way bigger than that.

Do you need to get that?

Oh, no, no, no.

Well, it's crazy lady, you know.

Not for me, no, no.

Maybe we should put our phones on mute.

Yeah, of course, of course.

This is Sister Alice.

Send someone over,
we've got a bit of a caffuffle here.

A guy called Benny just picked up
Allan Karlsson's stuff.

Looking for Folksoda.

But I just saw there
was dynamite in there.

It's been here at the centre all the time!

The old folks could have blown sky-high!

They're old, but they don't
deserve to die like that.

Ooh!

Wait,
there's a hollow space here.

What's going on?

What...?

Well... Hello.

- Benny, did you find anything?
- Yeah.

Any Folksoda?

No...

But I found lots
of safety stuff for babies at a store.

Like one of these protectors...

And I was thinking about
saving for the baby's retirement...

It's early days, but it's a good idea.

What's this?

Dynamite.

- It belongs to Allan.
- What's wrong with you?

- Why did you bring it home?
- They made me.

You can just say no!

Don't worry, it can't go off by itself.
Nothing will happen...

Miriam...

What are you doing?
Are you insane?

In English, please.

You almost killed me with a bayonet.

Sorry. It was an accident.

Accident? Are you kidding me?

Sorry, Hans.
Did we disturb you?

Disturb?
You punched a hole in the wall!

Hello, how are you?

Allan, this is Hans,
he lives on the other side.

- What?
- Like you used to do.

Oh, he lives
in my part of the apartment.

- Maybe that's where it is?
- Could be.

- Hey, what about my wall?
- I'll fix it.

- I'll fix it.
- Yeah?

- Don't worry.
- OK.

I was upset. I apologize.

No, no, I am very sorry.

I'll clean up here
and put back something.

Yeah, but this is not the right thing.

- No, it's temporary
- You have to be very careful.

Give me a moment.

Uh, very nice apartment.
I must look.

Yeah, it's nice.

Yeah, wait a second.

- Where are they going?
- Go along with them.

Whoa! Very nice records.

- Old?
- Yes. First edition.

Uh... this?

Yeah, it's old.

Make your own booze?

And... and... this old?

Quite old, actually, yeah.

- I don't understand...
- Spirits. Schnapps.

No, just coffee.

This is crap.

Spiral burners, they're good.

They get rid of the moonshiny taste.

Those fusel oils taste disgusting.

It's a coffee maker.
I use beans from Ethiopia and Ghana.

It's delicious.

Oh my God...

In there...

- That's all there is.
- No...

Right...

I used to hide stuff in there
when I was a double agent.

Double agent?

Have anything I could cut with?
A knife...

Stina...

I think this is it.

A secret compartment?

Hot damn...

What is it?

What did you find?

- What is it?
- Is that it?

My cigar box.

- Can I have a look?
- Sure.

- I'll tell Julius it's time to leave.
- Yeah...

- Hi...
- Hi.

What? You found it?

Yes!

Holy shit! Open it, Allan.

- There they are.
- Cigars?

- What the...?
- They look tempting.

Where's the formula?

I guess it's in the other box.

- This is the wrong box?
- Not if you want a good cigar.

- Are you pulling my leg?
- This is quality stuff!

- Is it gone?
- No it's in the other box. Don't shout.

"Other box," there's another box?!
Where is it?

In Malmköping.

- Be brave, throw all the junk out.
- I'll just save the important stuff.

What we need to do is,

one, check out
the location of the IP address.

Two, look up Allan Karlsson.

He's a former agent
with connexions to the case.

The fact that he's from Malmköping,
like the IP address,

it's too much of a coincidence.

Aaronsson, you catch my drift?

Ah, yeah.
The IP address is no problem.

I can take you there.

- Well, let's get going.
- Sorry, ten more minutes, lunch break.

You know, regulations.
There's nothing I can do about it.

Yeah?

Here we are.

So the, uh...

the computer, what, it's...

it's... it's in the clubhouse?

You want to go to
the computer address?

Yeah.

Yeah, I can take you there.

Sure, that's great.

Yes. OK. Bye.

Christ...

- Who was that?
- The police.

- What?
- The CIA are coming over tomorrow.

The CIA? Why?

Well, I don't know.

Come on, Benny, calm down.
We haven't done anything wrong.

- Have we?
- No...

Except for that money on Bali.
It wasn't entirely legit.

You never told me that.

I thought you figured out
that it was kind of stolen.

- How would I know that?
- I don't know...

I guess because
it was a shitload of money

and we were so irresponsible
and did all that fun stuff.

I was going to tell you, but it was
so good between us that...

But maybe it's more important
to figure out where to hide the money.

The freezer is the first place
they'll check, right?

I've studied
forensic psychology, you know.

The CIA are masters at interrogation.

We'll need an iron-clad strategy
to make it.

Don't make anything up now,
or you'll get sent off to Guantanamo.

No, we won't be making anything up.

But... if they...

suspect us of any crimes...

If that's the case, we don't say a thing.
We just ask for a lawyer.

OK.

- So...
- Would you like some coffee, ma'am?

- Uh, I'm good, thank you.
- Some coffee, sir?

- No, thank you, ma'am.
- Uh, grapes, cookies?

Uh, we're good, we're good, thanks.

We would very much like
to ask you some questions,

if that's OK with you.

Sure.

Great. Well, first off,
we'd like to know if you...

Whoa!

I'll tell you, it was Allan.
He's guilty. He's a friend of mine.

I am so sorry.

And I voted for
the Communists in '94.

Please, sir,
just calm down, will ya?

Jesus, I mean, look at this.

Sorry, Miriam.
I'm kind of panicking.

It just all gushed out... Damn it!

It's OK.

I'm so, so sorry.

Excuse me, sir.

You OK? Just take a breath, Benny.

- Shall we try this again, from the top?
- Yes.

- The top, yeah.
- Yeah.

The senior centre?
That was years ago...

How can you be sure
you brought that cigar box with you?

I clearly remember
keeping it in my chest of drawers.

How can you be sure
they haven't thrown it out?

I can't, I'm not some bloody psychic!

Wake, wake, come on!

Yes, yes!

Pull over!

My fucking money,
you geriatric psychopath!

Get some petrol.

Change your incontinence pants,
you're fucking mine now!

There's clearly no indication
of any mental illness in his file,

but this guy's clearly not there.

We give him an hour to recover,
we question him...

No, the only thing you're gonna get
out of this guy is more puke.

So... anyhow.

Let's hope this Allan Karlsson's
a little more cooperative.

- Yeah.
- Uh...

You want to talk to Allan Karlsson?

Absolutely.

- Are you sure?
- Yeah, why? What's the problem.

Well, we...

He, uh...

go up in smoke last year.

What do you mean?

Yeah, he, uh, went out
from the window

on the old people home
and just disappeared.

Disa... Wait a second.
You're telling me this now?

Yeah, I tell you this now, yeah.

Yeah, OK, just take us there.

OK. I take you there.

Allan, get a move on.

- This is it, right?
- Yeah.

Come on.

Right, this looks sturdy...

- Hello.
- Hello.

Excuse me, but are you single?

I think so, why?

Allan, cut it out. This isn't the time
to be picking up women.

Excuse us, ma'am.
Go back to sleep, if you can.

There may be almonds in
the Brussels cookies, so what do I say?

"Are you mandel allergic?"

- Cut it out!
- What if they can't eat it?

- Let's go.
- We need keys.

Right, "nöt allergic."
"Are you nöt allergic?"

I certainly don't want any Americans
to go all puffy on me.

I guess I can remove those cookies.

These are really yummy.

♪ Hadelatten da-da, um-pa-pa
Don't you break the law... ♪

You can go in and wait.
I have to park the car.

Oh, OK, no problem.

♪ What a mess... ♪

♪ I can't blame anybody else... ♪

- These winds will bring showers.
- Stop it.

Here... This is the place.

Uhh!

Damn, what a lot of junk!

"Allan Karlsson."
But it's been cleaned out!

- Allan?
- Eskil...

Hello, you old asshole.

So you're down here snooping, like usual.

- Are you going to blow anything up?
- No.

Listen, do you know
what happened to my belongings?

This tall bald guy
picked it up the other day.

- Picked it up?
- Who the hell could that be?

A real loser! He kept dropping it.

Sounds like Benny was here.

Would you like
another cookie?

- No, thank you, ma'am.
- Cookie?

Ma'am, can you recall any...

I'd love some more radio cake.

Fresh-baked this morning.

Excuse me, ma'am, can you recall Allan
having any other visitors here?

You know, like foreigners.
Foreign visitors here?

- What did he say?
- Did you see any suspicious foreigners?

- What? Is he a racist?
- No, I don't think so.

Why would the guilty person
be a foreigner?

Sorry, sir, what did she say?

Yeah, she, uh, doesn't like
your question.

She wonder if you like all persons.

Do I like all persons? No.
I wouldn't say that.

No, no, no, she mean...
do you like, uh...

all different people?

- White, brown, yellow, you know.
- Is she saying we're racist?

Is she out of her mind?

Yes, yes, the crazy lady.

What did you just say?
I know what "crazy lady" means.

Do you think I'm stupid?
You said "crazy lady."

- It was police terminology.
- Coming here, acting like a hot-shot!

I know what I'm talking about!

- How about we all move on?
- Yeah, yeah.

OK, so listen, um...

Move that piece of crap...

Pick up, Benny!

This is nice.

The Northern light is pure magic.

Aren't hot tubs supposed to be hot?

Yes. You're right.

I'll take care of it.

I'll just...

- I think we're alone.
- Just in case customers show up.

They won't.

Someone's coming!

Just kidding!

- That was funny.
- You're funny.

- You're adorable when you run.
- Stop it, Miriam.

Come to mama...

- Tell me when it gets too hot.
- You're smoking hot.

- Benny!
- Hi.

- You're back!
- We're kind of naked...

When you picked up Allan's stuff,
did you find a cigar box?

- Could you hand me the towel?
- A small cigar box.

- We can go swimming here, right?
- Yes, we can.

- A cigar box? Was it important?
- Where the hell is it?

It's burning, in the stove.

Holy cow!

No!

Damn it... Watch out!

There you go, the Folksoda formula.

Really?

We had it?

Are you sure?

So, uh, did Allan leave
any of his belongs here?

You know, his, like, personal stuff?

- What's he saying?
- Did Allan leave any belongings behind?

- Benny picked them up.
- Benny was here?

I left a message on your voice mail
that Benny was here.

Why have voice mail
if you don't listen to it?

Benny came for Allan's stuff.

- He was asking about Folksoda too.
- Folksoda?

Did you just say Folksoda?

I see the car!

- You see it?
- Got it!

Wait...

I've got such a "hold."
Those cookies were so goddamn rich.

Move your ass, you lazy fuck!
Come on!

I've got hold, I've got hold!

Come on!

- Let's have a look.
- Here's a cord for you.

- I thought microfiche readers were small.
- No, just the microfiche.

Shoo...

Would you like some tea?
Stina, right?

Kristina. You can call me Stina.

- Do you have a bed?
- Sure, use ours.

Could you get that machine
up and running already?

For crying out loud, it's tricky.

- Get moving!
- That goes there.

- Isn't it supposed to light up?
- Yes...

And this goes up...

- It's black.
- Right, the lamp...

- Yay!
- Look at that...

Perfect...

We blew a fuse.

Don't just stand there.
Where's the fuse box?

It's right over here...

What's your problem, man?
Just sit up, will ya?

I can't! Too much hurt.
Can you slow down a little?

It's like giving birth.

Hey, there's a car behind us
with Polish plates.

Any idea who that could be?

It may be workers.
They are Polish many times.

Or picking berries.
They're picking berries in the wood.

This is not a berry picker.

- Do you have any more fuses?
- Just 6 amperes.

- Go for it.
- But we blew a 10-amp fuse.

Holy cow...

Though the elbow is close,
you still cannot bite it.

Haven't heard
that expression in a long time.

Christ...

Yes...

I thought I...

I thought you looked familiar.

It's you...

You're...

You're "K."

Popov's daughter, Kristina.

He gave me the formula and said:
"Give it to K..."

He didn't get any further
before he died right before my eyes.

So you're "K", aren't you?

I am.

Well then... The formula belongs to you.

- Oh my...
- Thank you.

There, there...

Thank you...

Sorry it took so long, there were
so many distractions along the way.

Look, the juice is back on!

- So I can take it?
- Sure, go ahead.

There... Close the lid.

- Hey, where are you off to?
- It's hers.

What are you talking about?

- Where are you going with that formula?
- She's Popov's daughter.

She's "K." I can't believe
I didn't figure it out sooner.

- What are you talking about?
- The formula is rightfully hers.

What's the address? For taxi.

Just say it's the lakeside grill.

What the hell is this?

A lousy driver, that's for sure.

- Put your weapon down.
- Take it easy, sir, we're from CIA.

- I'm from South London.
- Take it easy.

- We're gonna do what you say.
- Nobody fuckin' move!

He's angry.

- You, show me your guns.
- These are my weapons.

- I see it, good boy. Throw it away.
- All right.

- There you go, now you.
- All right, I'm doing it.

- Slowly.
- Give me your gun.

I don't have a gun.
I didn't take it for the road.

- Sorry.
- I'm not doing anything crazy.

- I'm gonna put it over here.
- That's right.

- There we go, see?
- Nobody move!

- I'm going, I'm going.
- Just take it easy, sir.

- Nobody needs to get hurt.
- Do it quietly!

- Is he a diabetic?
- Nice and quiet.

- That's it, all good.
- Just take it easy.

- Yeah, it is.
- Back up.

Right, this is a fucking grenade.

Anybody does anything stupid,
you all get fucking blown-up.

Explosion?
That's nice, it's been a while.

You wrinkly old fucking
bastard, speak fucking English!

Shut up, Allan.

The question is,
where is the fucking money?

- It's in the wood shed.
- Stay still! Don't move!

- You, you pregnant?
- What? Me?

No, the other fat bird. Of course you!
You pregnant?

- Me, yes?
- Good.

- You go.
- Do as he says.

Fucking hurry up, get my money!

Hurry up!

- Where's the money, Benny?
- Top shelf on the left.

Speak fucking English!

There's a very long
top shelf here.

- The shelf with a kubb set.
- A kubb set?

- Where's the effing kubb set?
- Behind the ice-cream man.

I'm sorry. it's a total mess.
I should clean more often. I'm sorry.

Fuckin' hurry up!

- This is what's left.
- This is fucking Monopoly money.

This is all that's left?
Are you taking the piss?

No.

Where is my fucking money?

Take this, take this. It's worth lots.

It's worth millions of dollars.
It's the Folksoda recipe.

- Shut up!
- OK.

Where's my fucking...

Stay still!

It's you.

Yes, it is me.

Yeah, it fucking is!
I fucking knew it was you.

I knew from the fucking beginning.

Last chance.

- I can't go.
- Where is the fucking money?

I no can go.

Yes, I can.

Yes, I can.

Give me my fucking money.

What money?

Last chance.

- Aaah!
- No!

Everybody get down!

Help me!

Christ, talk about a big bang!

All right, stay back.
Everybody stay back.

Hot damn!
I'm starting to feel right at home.

Lovely...

Have you recovered
the formulate, the microfiche?

Recovered and destroyed, sir.

Good. Any suspects?

We've got a gang of decidedly
unusual suspects here, sir.

A 101-year-old man
and a few other misfits.

But we're confident
that we got our guy.

An experienced criminal.

He has a long record
and international ties.

Our main suspect identified him
as the brains behind

the entire operation
before he blew himself up.

OK, bring him in.

Already on our way, sir.

♪ Radio Flen... ♪

Right here
in our studio,

the man of the hour: DI Glenn Aronsson.

Tell us what went down last night.

That's classified information.

Rumours have it that the Americans
were involved, the CIA.

- You're nodding.
- No, I'm not.

Don't tell them that.
My head moved, that's all.

Hey, Strindberg...

How about a soak in the hot tub?

Sure... Things can't get any worse.

Sure they can, but a bath can't hurt.

Come on, sourpuss.

Hope the water is nice,
don't want a hot dog between my legs...

Hang on, Allan. What's that on your ass?

- Haven't you seen a naked man before?
- It's in Russian.

It's a tattoo!

- Holy shit, Allan!
- What's going on?

Allan's got that secret
all over his ass!

What?

It's like he said:
He was sitting on the formula.

- Are you pulling my leg?
- No!

I'd forgotten all about it.

It was like the Tivoli Gardens
amusement park was buzzing in my head.

The tattoo artist told me to pick an image
that was unique.

- Allan?
- What? Yes...

Could you... Not that, this little guy.

- Don't you want it back?
- I want to take a picture.

Hold him like I showed you.

- Allan junior...
- OK, look at me.

Now.

Perfect.

Listen, Gäddan sent us a postcard.

He wants us to know he's loving it there.

"They gave me this great jumpsuit,
a really cool orange one."

♪ Hadelatten da-da, um-pa-pa
Don't you break the law... ♪

Ohh!

Are you still at that?
Cool it, the baby's here!

Don't worry,
it's never too early for kids to learn.

It must be coming along now.

But something's missing.

Could it be the temperature?
You're the one who speaks Russian.

How's it going?
Will there be any Folksoda?

Check the batteries, they're running low.

Your ass is so wrinkled
that it's almost impossible to read this.

Stop fussing and come and eat.

- How's the formula coming along?
- We're getting close.

What's wrong? Are you jealous?

No...

- Maybe it's not hot enough?
- No...

You don't think that's it?

It looks like some fireworks
are heading our way.

Are you ready for that, Allan junior?

Well...

It is what it is.
And what will be, will be.

♪ Balla balla rocking balalajka ♪