Studio Sex aka Studio 69 / Exposed

'What do you think they'll say?' Annika wondered.

'They've probably identified her and informed the members of the family,' Berit said.

'Yes, but why hold a press conference for that?'

'They haven't got any clues,' Berit said. 'They need maximum media exposure. They want to alert the detectives among the public while the body is fresh. We're the alarm clock.'

Annika swallowed. She changed hands on the door handle and looked out the window. The evening looked dusky and gray through the tinted glass. The neon signs on Fridhemsplan blinked palely in the evening light.

'I should be sitting in a cafe with a glass of red wine,' Bertil Strand said.

Neither of the women responded.

They drove past the park; Annika saw the police cordons sway lightly in the breeze. The photographer skirted the lush vegetation to arrive at the entrance at the top of Kungsholmsgatan.

'It's ironic,' Berit said. 'The biggest collection of cops in Scandinavia is sitting about two hundred yards from the murder scene.'

The brown metal complex of the national police headquarters appeared on Annika's right side. She looked up toward the park through the back window. The green hill was in the shade and filled the whole window. She suddenly felt queasy, squeezed in between the metal house and the dark green of the park. She rummaged through her bag and found a roll of hard mints. She quickly put two in her mouth.

'We'll just make it,' Berit said.

Bertil parked a little too close to the street corner and Annika hurried out of the car. Her wrist was stiff from holding the door all the way there.

'You look a bit pale,' Berit said. 'Are you okay?'

'I'm fine.' Annika hung her bag over her shoulder and walked off in the direction of the entrance, chewing frenetically on the mints. A security guard from Falck Security was stationed at the gate. They showed their press cards and walked into a cramped office where most of the floor space was taken up by a photocopier. Annika looked around the room with curiosity. There were long corridors both on her right and her left.

'This is the identification and fingerprint section,' Berit whispered.

'Straight on,' the security guard ordered them.

It said National Criminal Investigation Department in reversed, blue lettering on the glass door ahead of them. Berit pushed it open. They entered another corridor with beige metal walls. Some ten yards ahead and to the right was the press conference room.

Bertil Strand gave a sigh. 'This must be the worst place in Sweden for taking pictures. You can't even throw a flash off the ceiling. It's dark brown.'

'Is that why their press officer always has red eyes?' Annika gave a faint smile.

The photographer grunted.

It was quite a large room with orange, wall-to-wall carpeting, beige-brown chairs, and blue and brown textile works of art on the walls. A small gathering of reporters had assembled at the front. Arne Pahlson and another reporter from the rival tabloid were there; they were chatting with the police press officer. Q was not there. To her surprise, Annika saw that Eko was represented, as was the highbrow broadsheet housed in the same building as Kvallspressen.

'Murder gains importance when there's a press conference, you see,' Berit whispered.

The room was stifling hot, and Annika soon started sweating all over her body. As no TV stations were there to take the spaces, they sat at the front. Normally, TV cameras and all the equipment occupied the first few rows. The people from the Rival sat down next to them. Bertil Strand loaded his cameras.

The press officer cleared his throat. 'Welcome,' he said, and stepped onto the small podium at the front. He rounded a lectern and sat down heavily behind a conference table. He fiddled with some papers and tapped the microphone in front of him. 'Well, we've asked you to come here tonight to tell you about the dead woman who was found in central Stockholm today at lunchtime.' He put his papers to the side.

Sitting next to each other, Annika and Berit both took notes. Bertil Strand was walking around somewhere to the left, looking for camera angles.

'A lot of people have been phoning us during the day for information about the case, which is why we've chosen to call this press conference. First, I'll give you the facts of the case and then I'll be happy to answer your questions. Is that all right?'

The reporters nodded.

The press officer picked up the papers again. 'The emergency services center received a call about a dead body at twelve forty-eight P.M. The caller was a member of the public.'

The 'junkie' Annika wrote on her pad.

The press officer went quiet for a moment, bracing himself.

'The victim is a young woman, Hanna Josefin Liljeberg, nineteen years of age and resident in Stockholm. The members of her family have been informed.'

Annika felt a burning sensation in her stomach. The clouded eyes had been given a name. She furtively looked around at her colleagues to see how they reacted. No one batted an eyelid.

'The cause of death was strangulation. Time of death has not been definitely established but is thought to be sometime between three and seven this morning.' The press officer hesitated before continuing, 'The postmortem points to the young woman having been sexually assaulted.'

An image flashed inside Annika's head- breast, eyes, screams.

The press officer looked up from his papers. 'We need the help of the public to catch whoever did this,' he said wearily. 'We haven't got much to go on.'

Annika glanced at Berit; she had been right.

'We're working with the theory that the place of discovery is the place of murder; we have forensic evidence to indicate this. The last person to see Josefin alive, apart from her killer, was her roommate. They parted at the restaurant where they both work just before five A.M. This means that we can narrow down the time of her death by another two hours.'

A few camera flashes went off. Annika assumed they were Bertil Strand's.

The press officer recapitulated, 'Hanna Josefin Liljeberg was murdered in Kronoberg Park in Stockholm between five and seven A.M. The injuries to her body indicate that she was raped.'

His gaze had traveled over the reporters attending the press conference and finally landed on Annika. She swallowed.

'We ask anyone, I repeat, anyone, who was in the vicinity of Kronoberg Park, Parkgatan, Hantverkargatan, or Sankt Goransgatan between five and seven this morning to contact us. The police will gratefully accept all information that could be of interest. Several phone lines are open for the public to call in to, with a choice of speaking to a telephone operator or an answering machine. An incident may seem insignificant to an outsider, but it may fit into a larger pattern. That is why we're asking anyone who saw anything out of the ordinary at the time to contact us.'

He fell silent. The dust in the air was still. Annika's throat burned from the dryness.

The reporter from the highbrow broadsheet cleared his throat. 'Have you got any suspects?'

Annika looked at him with surprise. Didn't he understand what the guy had just said?

'No,' the press officer answered good-naturedly. 'That's why it's so important for us to get information from the public.'

The reporter took notes.

'What's the forensic evidence that indicates the place of discovery and murder is the same?' Arne Pahlson asked.

'We can't go into that at this moment in time.'

There were several more lame questions from the reporters but the press officer had nothing to add. At the end, the reporter from Eko asked if he could ask a few questions off the record. That marked the end of the press conference. It had only lasted for about twenty minutes. Bertil Strand was leaning against the wall at the back of the room.

'Shall we wait for Eko to finish and talk to him afterward?' Annika said.

'I think we should split up,' Berit said. 'One of us stays and talks to the press officer, the other starts looking for pictures of the girl.'