pine, was from IKEA. Sometimes he just felt so unbelievably predictable.
'When do you have to go back?'
He kissed his wife's hair and sank down next to her on the bench. 'I don't know,' he sighed. 'I'm hoping I can have the rest of the week off.'
The phone rang inside the house.
'No, you sit there. I'll get it.'
She got up and ran with a light step to the veranda where the cordless phone lay. Her skirt flapped around her calves and her hair danced around her tanned shoulders. His heart warmed. She answered the phone and was talking to someone. She looked over at him with surprise on her face.
'Of course,' she said, loud enough for him to hear it. 'He'll take it in his study.'
She put the phone down and came over to him.
'Christer, it's for you. It's the police.'
Annika couldn't get hold of Q. He was conducting an interview. She tried all the other numbers. The control room had nothing new, at the Krim duty desk she got an angry brush-off, and the press officer was busy. No one answered at Patricia's. She found the number for Studio 69 in the phone book, dialed it, and got an answering machine. A young woman's voice, trying hard to sound sexy, informed her of the business hours: 1 P.M. to 5 A.M. You could meet gorgeous girls, buy them champagne, watch the floor show or a private show, watch or buy erotic movies. All guests were welcome to the most intimate club in Stockholm.
Annika felt nauseated. She called the number once more and recorded the message. Then she tried the press officer again and this time she was lucky.
'A chief of investigation has been appointed,' he told her.
Annika's heart quickened. 'Who?'
'Chief District Prosecutor Kjell Lindstrom.'
'How come?' she asked, even though she'd already guessed the answer.
The press officer stalled. 'Yes, the investigation has gained some ground, and the Krim detectives thought it was time for the prosecutors to get involved.'
'So there's a suspect.'
The press officer cleared his throat. 'Like I said, the investigation has gained some ground and-'
'Is it Joachim, the boyfriend?'
The press officer heaved a sigh. 'I can't confirm that. We can't divulge any such information at this point in time.'
'But that is the case?' Annika persisted.
'We've conducted quite a few interviews and there are signs pointing in that direction, yes. But I must ask you not to publish anything about it yet. It would be detrimental to the investigation.'
A sense of triumph rose within her. Yes! It was him! The bastard.
'So what
'Who?'
'Josefin. Did she ever file a report against Joachim for intimidation or assault?'
'No, not that we've been able to track down.'
'What makes you think it's him?'
'I can't go into that.'
'So it's something someone has said in an interview? Was it Patricia?'
The press officer hesitated. 'Now look, please respect what I've said to you. I can't give you any details. We haven't come that far. So far, no one has been charged with the crime. The police continue to have an open mind in their hunt for Josefin's killer.'
Annika realized she wouldn't get any further. She thanked him, hung up, and called Chief District Prosecutor Kjell Lindstrom. He was in court all day. She sighed. She might as well go down to the Seven Rats and get something to eat.
'Message for you,' the porter said in a surly tone, and gave Annika a note when she walked past the reception on her way up.
Martin Larsson-Berg had called, the deputy principal at Josefin's old school. The number wasn't for his house but looked like an extension number.
'I'm glad you called back,' he said energetically when she got hold of him. 'We've opened up the youth club here in Taby a week early.'
'Really. Why's that?'
'The youngsters need an outlet for their grief over Josefin's death. We've got a crisis management team here to take care of all these unhappy people. A counselor, a psychologist, a priest, youth workers, teachers… Our school is making preparations for dealing with the difficult questions.'
Annika hesitated. 'Did Josefin really have that many friends?'
Martin Larsson-Berg's tone was extremely serious when he answered, 'A crime of this nature can shake a whole generation. Here at our school we feel we need to be there for the students and support them in their trauma. You mustn't turn your back on a collective pain of this magnitude.'
'And you want us to write about this?'
'We feel it's important to act as role models for people in similar situations. Show them that you can move on. This calls for commitment and resources, and we have both here.'
'Could you hold for a moment?' She got up and walked over to Spike.
As usual, the news editor was on the phone.
'Do we want to look at the grieving in Taby? Where she came from,' Annika asked without waiting for him to finish his call.
'What's that?' Spike put the phone against his stomach.
'The deputy principal of her school has opened a crisis management center at the youth club. He's very pleased with himself. Do we want to visit them?'
'Go,' Spike said, and returned to his phone conversation.
Annika returned to her desk. 'So where can we find you?'
She was assigned a freelance photographer by the name of Pettersson. He had an old VW Golf that stalled at every other junction.
I'll never complain about Bertil Strand again, she thought.
The youth club, housed in a complex of seventies-style buildings, comprised a kitchen, a poolroom, and some couches. The boys naturally took up most of the space. The girls were squeezed into a corner, and several of them were crying. Annika and the photographer did a quick tour before Martin Larsson-Berg received them.
'It's important to take the youngsters' feelings seriously,' he said with an air of concern. 'We will be open around the clock for the rest of the week.'
Annika took notes, an unpleasant feeling spreading through her. It was loud in there and the young people were upset and acting out their feelings; they were yelling at each other and were generally jittery. Two guys tried to tear the T-shirt off one of the girls in the poolroom and didn't stop until the counselor intervened.
'Lotta likes the boys,' Larsson-Berg said apologetically.
Annika stared at him in disbelief. 'It looked like they were trying to strip her shirt off.'
'They're having a hard time right now. They didn't sleep much last night. Here's Lisbeth, our counselor.'
Annika and Pettersson introduced themselves.
