and sound in the middle of the plain.
Keep looking ahead, Johnny thinks, the road, that’s what you should be concentrating on.
Malin goes straight to the coffee room when she gets to the station. The coffee in the pump-action flask is fresh.
She sits on a chair at the table by the window facing the inner courtyard. Only a white mass of snow at this time of year, a little paved area with a few dubious flower-beds in the spring, summer and autumn.
There’s a magazine on the table next to her. She reaches for it.
Headline: YOU’RE GREAT THE WAY YOU ARE! Headline on the next page: AMELIA’S LIPOSUCTION SPECIAL!
Malin closes the magazine, gets up and walks off to her desk.
There’s a yellow Post-it note on top of it, like an exclamation mark among the mess of paper.
From Ebba in reception:
Nothing else.
Malin takes the note and walks out to reception, but Ebba isn’t there. Sofia is sitting on her own behind the counter.
‘Have you seen Ebba?’
‘She’s in the kitchen. She went to get coffee.’
Malin finds Ebba in the kitchen, sitting at one of the round tables, leafing through a magazine.
Malin holds up the note. ‘What’s this?’
‘There was a woman who rang.’
‘I can see that from the note.’
Ebba wrinkles her nose. ‘Well, she didn’t want to say why she was calling. But it was important, I understood that much.’
‘When did she call?’
‘Just before you got in.’
‘Nothing else?’
‘Yes,’ Ebba says. ‘She sounded scared. And hesitant. She was sort of whispering.’
Malin tries to identify the number through Yellow Pages.
Nothing.
It must be ex-directory, and not even they could get round that without a load of time-consuming paperwork.
She calls.
No answer, not even an answer-machine.
But a minute later her phone rings.
She picks up the receiver. Says, ‘Yes, this is Malin Fors.’
‘Daniel here. Have you got anything new for me about the Andersson investigation?’
She gets cross, then strangely calm, as if she had been wanting to hear his voice, but pushes the thought aside.
‘No.’
‘The harassment accusation, any comment?’
‘Have you suddenly turned stupid, Daniel?’
‘I’ve been away a few days. Aren’t you going to ask where?’
‘No.’ Wants to ask, doesn’t want to ask.
‘I was in Stockholm. At
‘Why?’ The question pops out of her mouth.
‘So you do care after all? Never do what they expect you to, Malin. Never.’
‘Goodbye, Daniel.’
She hangs up, then the phone rings again. Daniel? No. Unknown number on the display, silence at the other end of the line.
‘Fors here. Who is this?’
Breathing, hesitation. Maybe fear. Then a soft but anxious female voice, as if it knows it’s speaking words that
