On the other cart, though, the bodies wore street clothes. These bodies were grabbed under the arms, dragged to a black door like the door of a furnace, set in the wall of the building, and shoved through the door head first. As the bodies were shoved in, Dan saw the sunlight glint on what looked like tight metal cords around their necks, bearing oblong metal tags.
Several men had stopped while Dan glanced in to watch this scene. Dan now overheard their comments, which were made in tense angry tones:
"Look at that. If this referendum isn't over soon, it'll dust the lot of us over the forest."
"It's all these charges and accusations that make the trouble. Why we can't do it like civilized human beings, I don't know."
"The trouble is, there's no precedent."
The men walked away.
Dan had the out-of-focus sensation of a man who comes into a room where a joke has already been half-told.
He glanced at the low building. "Are you getting all this, Kielgaard?"
"We're getting it. But I hope it makes more sense to you than it does to us."
"Well, it doesn't."