Bring your daughter to work day goes badly and we see the worst Christmas tree decoration ever, Hannah Dunleavy catches up with The Bridge.
The discovery of Filip and Inga, in a scene reminiscent of another painting in Freddie Holst’s collection (and a Christmas I had about 10 years ago), unveils two more in-mouth codes, from some long-dead language. Way to continue to get on my tits killer. It also means Saga doesn’t get to eat the breakfast Henrik made for her. Still, I’m sure one of his imaginary kids enjoyed it.
If someone doesn’t say Wizard of Oz soon I’m going to explode
There was a body missing a brain. A fecking brain and still no one said it. Even just spitballing. You know, even if everyone shouts them down. It’s clearly not right, but it’s comment worthy. Someone, just say it. Please.
Although, maybe if they had a team of more than a handful of people someone might. With a shedload of murders on their hands, one of which was a policeman, surely to Moses they’d have a bigger investigation? It looks to me to be Saga, Henrik (something or other), the boss, the blonde woman who is sometimes on the phone in the background, John and John’s daughter, who’s somewhat of a liability, if I’m honest.
So, where are we?
After going on a high-speed wild goose chase after an iPad, our threadbare team fancy Emil from the gallery as the killer, after which a lot of stuff happened, none of which was as exciting as Emil’s lightshade. Oh, Scandi décor. Not sure I trust Emil’s version of events, as everyone else seems to have done, he did seem to go from Public Enemy No 1 to battered witness very quickly.
We’re now settled on full-on batshit Annika as the prime suspect, but it is: A) too early for us to be here and B) fits my prediction of it being a woman, and I am never right with these things, so I’m pretty sure it could all change.
Annika is in the wind – which may or may not be connected to that spade Claes was carrying. Speaking of which, Claes, you bore me.
Whoever the murderer is, if that was them driving the yellow car, we can add parking across two spaces to their list of heinous crimes.
Don’t gamble kids
Turns out that was a key to his house and not, as I had previously thought, an Olde World butt plug that our young gambler put on the table last week. Even Freddie’s telling Jeanette her boyfriend’s a lost cause – and he’s got the same haircut that Timothy Spall had in the mid 80s.
And he was right: the world’s worst poker player was found dead in the closing moments of Episode 8. Still, it’s probably not half as horrible as what happened to Jeanette – Freddie kissed her. (Also kidnapped.)
Hans for the memories
Aah, Sofia Helin, what a trooper. Proper touching stuff over the loss of Hans who’s been reunited with his hand (and with you Taro) in that big police station in the sky.
It’s one of two awful things to befall our heroine this week – after Internal Affairs suspect her of killing her mother, which was no great surprise, although did reveal a bit more about her background. You know, the stuff she said to Henrik “you can’t ask about that” about. Henrik’s on a worse comedown than Shaun Ryder in the early ‘90s so he doesn’t push the point, but he seems to be making some progress, with Saga and his own life – even if he’s back on the glovebox sweeties in the end.
Flipping it about
Given that the first murder was of a woman who ran a gender neutral school, the writers are having a bit a fun messing with the gender roles. Jeanette is clearly the more capable in that pairing; last week we had Henrik agreeing to sex when all he really wanted was a cuddle and this week we had Freddie persuading Asa that she’d feel different when the baby arrived.
Or maybe that’s just the way it is in Sweden and Denmark. You’ll be telling me that girls’ toys don’t come in pink next.
The big questions
Do you have a Plan B?
Is there a better response to that creepy canopy of Claes than, “Oh, come on”?
Does anyone know where I can get my hands on statistics for injuries caused in corridors where all the doors open outwards?1989 Views
Hannah Dunleavy is the deputy editor of Standard Issue. She likes whisky and not having to run anywhere.