Not much more to say on Helene Tursten's The Beige Man, other than to note that the idea of a Beige Man - kind of like Kander and Ebb's "Mr. Cellophane" from Chicago - is an excellent descriptor for the nondescript. I saw the denouement in this story coming, but didn't get all the details, so there was some decent reveal there. Still, you'll want a shower and a hug after getting through this story.
Do you recall my ambivalence about Georges Simenon's Inspector Maigret, a few months ago? I stand corrected, or at least, enlightened, after reading this good essay in the New York Times Book Review last weekend. Maybe you will too.