Studio Sex aka Studio 69 / Exposed

'Who is that idiot you're talking to?' Anne asked.

'There is,' the man said. 'I can hear another woman in the background.'

'Oh, yes, of course, there's Anne. She's Korean. Hang on and I'll put you through to her.'

'Oh, fuck it!' the man exclaimed, and hung up.

'What an asshole!' Annika said.

The phone rang again.

'So, I don't have to tell you my name, right?' The voice belonged to a frightened young girl.

'Yeah, sure.' Annika said. 'What's it about?'

'Well, you know, this TV guy, this program presenter…' The girl gave the name of one of Sweden's most popular and highly esteemed TV journalists.

'What about him?'

'He dresses up in women's clothes and he gropes young girls.'

Annika groaned. She'd heard this one before. 'People can dress up however they want in this country.'

'He goes to sex clubs too.'

'And we have freedom of opinion and religion and freedom of association.'

The girl on the phone lost the thread. 'Oh, so it's nothing you'll write about?'

'Has he done anything illegal?'

'No…'

'Groped, you said. Has he forced himself on anyone?'

'No, not really, they wanted to-'

'Has he bought sexual favors with public money?'

The girl was confused. 'What do you mean?'

'Does he buy prostitutes with taxpayers' money?'

'I don't know…'

Annika thanked her for the tip-off and terminated the call. 'You're right,' she said to Anne. 'Loon night.'

The tip-off phone rang a third time. Annika grabbed it.

'My name is Roger Sundstrom and I live in Pitea. Are you busy, or do you have a minute?'

Annika sat down. This crazy man was actually polite.

'I've got time. What's it about?'

'Well,' the man said in broad Norrland dialect, 'it's about this minister, Christer Lundgren. 'They're saying in this radio program, Studio 69, that he was at a strip club in Stockholm, but that's not true.'

Annika pricked up her ears; something in the man's voice made her take him seriously. She found a pen beside the keyboard. 'Tell me, what makes you think that?'

'Well, we went to Majorca on holiday, the whole family. Silly, 'cause it's been warmer in Sweden than in Spain, but we couldn't have known that when we… Well, anyway, we were on our way back to Pitea. We'd booked flights with Transwede from Stockholm, as they're a bit cheaper…'

A child laughed in the background and Annika heard a woman singing.

'Go on.'

'That's when we saw the minister. He was at the airport when we were there.'

'When was this?'

'Friday the twenty-seventh, at twenty oh five in the evening.'

'How can you be that exact?'

'I remembered it was the time our plane was supposed to leave. It says on my ticket.'

Of course! 'But what makes you think the minister wasn't at the strip club? The check that the reporters on Studio 69 are talking about was rung up at half past four the following morning. And a neighbor saw him.'

'But he wasn't in Stockholm then.'

'How do you know?'

'Because he got on the plane. We saw him at the check-in counter. He had a briefcase and a small suitcase.'

Annika felt the hair on her neck stand up; this could be important. Yet, she was doubtful. She had to be sure.

'How come you paid such close attention to the minister? How come you recognized him?'

The children in the background started singing a silly song. Roger Sundstrom gave an embarrassed laugh.

'I tried to talk to him, but he was too stressed-out. I don't think he even registered me.'

'Stressed? In what way?'

'He was in a sweat and his hands were shaking.'

'It was very hot that day, everyone was sweating.'

Sundstrom patiently replied, 'Yes, but he didn't look like he normally does. His eyes were sort of staring.'

Annika felt the excitement drop. Sundstrom was probably imagining things. 'How do you mean, staring?'

The man paused. 'He was all tense, and he's always so self-assured and relaxed.'

'What do you mean 'always'? Do you know him?' That's what she thought he was implying.

'Oh, yes. Christer's married to my cousin Anna-Lena. They live somewhere in Lulea, and their twins are the same age as our Kajsa. We don't meet up very often- the last time was at Granddad's funeral, I think. But Christer sure doesn't look like that normally, not even at funerals.'

He fell silent, feeling that Annika didn't believe him.

Annika was at a loss but for the time being decided the man was telling the truth. At least he believed what he was telling her.

'Did you see him on the plane as well?'

Roger Sundstrom hesitated. 'It was one of those big planes and it was packed. No, I don't think I saw him.'

Annika closed her eyes and thought about the claim on Studio 69 that there were ten thousand lobbyists in Stockholm; maybe they had a local office in Pitea.

'There's something I want to ask you, Roger, and I want you to be absolutely honest with me. It's extremely important.'

'Right, what's that?' Annika sensed a note of suspicion and fear in his voice.

'Did anyone ask you to make this call?'

Again, there was a pause. 'Well, I talked it over with Britt-Inger first. She thought I should call you.'

'Britt-Inger?'

'My wife.'

'And why did your wife think you should call?'

'Because they're wrong on Studio 69.' Sundstrom was getting more assertive. 'I called them first, but they wouldn't talk to me. But I know what I saw. Britt-Inger saw him too.'

Annika frantically racked her brains. 'And nobody else asked you to call?'

'Nobody.'

'You're absolutely sure about that?'

'Now listen-'

'Okay,' Annika said quickly. 'What you're saying is very interesting. It puts the allegations on Studio 69 in a completely different light. I'll see whether I can use it in one way or another in the future. Thank you very much for…'

Roger Sundstrom had already hung up.

The moment she put the Creepy Calls phone down, her own phone started ringing.

'You've got to help us.' It was Daniella Hermansson.

'What's happened?'

'They keep calling Auntie Elna. She's here with me now. There are fifteen journalists with TV cameras and God knows what outside our door, and they won't stop ringing the bell. What can we do?'

Daniella was in a real state. Annika heard the child screaming in the background and assumed her calmest tone of voice.