'You have absolutely no obligation to let anyone in if you don't want to. Neither you, nor Elna, has to talk to any journalists. Are they phoning too?'
'Constantly.'
'When we hang up, take the phone off the hook. They'll only get the busy signal. If you feel threatened by the journalists outside your door, call the police.'
'The police? Oh, I daren't.'
'Do you want me to do it?'
'Could you? Please…'
'You just hold the line and I'll call them on another phone.'
Annika picked up the Creepy Calls phone and dialed the direct number to the police control room.
'Oh, hi, I'm calling from sixty-four Sankt Goransgatan,' she said. 'The press have invaded. They're scaring the pensioners to death. They're yelling and shouting, ringing on all doors. The people from the radio are the worst. I've got five terrified pensioners with me right now. It's the stairwell to the right, third floor.'
She changed receivers. 'They're on their way.'
Daniella breathed freely again. 'Oh, thank you so much. How can I ever thank you? That was really good of you, I'll-'
Annika wasn't listening. 'Why did Elna talk to the reporter from
'She says she hasn't talked to any reporters.'
'She must have, I heard her on the radio. It would have been today or yesterday.'
Daniella put the phone down and talked to someone in the room.
'Auntie Elna says absolutely not.'
Annika pondered her words. 'Listen, is Aunty Elna okay? Does she ever get a little confused?'
The answer came fast and assuredly. 'Not a bit, she's completely with it. No reporter, she's positive.'
'Well, she talked to someone, unless I and the entire pack of hacks outside your door have been hallucinating.'
'A policeman. She spoke to a police officer this morning. He said he wanted to clarify a few points from a previous interview.'
'Did he record their conversation?'
'Did he record your conversation?' Daniella asked.
A long mumbling conversation followed.
'Yes,' Daniella said into the phone. 'He wanted a transcript. The documentation of all interviews is very important, the policeman said.'
They have absolutely no shame, Annika thought to herself.
'And she's sure about the day and the time? About when she bumped into the minister?'
'Yes, she's absolutely sure.'
'How can she be?'
'Can I tell her?' Daniella asked her neighbor.
Mumbling and muttering. Then back into the phone: 'No, I can't tell you why, but she is. Oh, something's happening outside! Hang on, let me check…'
Daniella dropped the phone; Annika could hear her footsteps. She was probably looking through the peephole. Then the steps returned.
'The police are here now. They're clearing out the stairwell. Thanks a million for all your help.'
'Don't mention it.'
Annika hung up, her head spinning. Creepy Calls rang again.
'You take it, please,' Annika said to Anne Snapphane, and walked off to the cafeteria. She bought a bottle of mineral water and sat down by a window, looking out at the rain. It was a dark and heavy night. Not even the lights at the Russian embassy could penetrate the gloom.
I wonder when Josefin's funeral is, she mused. I guess it'll be some time. The medical examiners and the police will want the chance to look at her body now so they won't have to dig her back up.
She thought about the minister, wondering what window he was staring out of.
Talk about being up shit creek, she thought. How can you be so damn stupid to hand in the receipt from a strip joint to the Ministry for Foreign Affairs?
He's just tightfisted, that's how.
While she finished her water, her thoughts returned to Josefin. The dead girl had been completely forgotten in all this. From the moment she was exposed as a stripper, she became nothing but a piece of meat, a men's toy. Annika thought about her parents.
I wonder how my mom would have reacted if it had been me, she mused. Would she have cried to a journalist from the local paper?
Probably not. Her mother disliked journalists. People should mind their own business was what she thought. She'd never said it straight out, but she wasn't happy with Annika's choice of profession. She'd gone along with Sven, who thought Annika shouldn't accept her place at college.
'It's a really tough job,' Sven had said. 'Confronting people and challenging them isn't for you. You're such a soft touch.'
She got to her feet, annoyed, and walked back to her desk in the newsroom.
'I've had enough of this for today,' she said to Anne Snapphane, and took her bag and left.
Patricia jumped when the front door opened. Annika was a black silhouette against the sharp light in the stairwell.
'Were you asleep?'Annika turned on the light.
Patricia blinked at the light. 'I was letting the energies flow.'
'And I sent them packing,' Annika said with a wan smile.
Patricia returned the smile. 'They're always there.'
Annika hung up her things in the hall. Her jacket was wet.
Patricia sat up on the couch. 'Josefin had one of those jackets,' she said, amazed. 'Exactly the same.'
Annika gave a surprised look. 'It's several years old. From H and M, I think.'
Patricia nodded. 'So was Jossie's. It's still hanging in the hall in Dalagatan. 'I'll always wear this jacket,' she used to say. She often said stuff like that, big exaggerations. 'I'll always.' 'I'll never ever.' 'This is the biggest one of all.' 'You're the best friend I've ever had.' 'I'll hate him till I die.' Till I die…'
Patricia started crying and Annika sat down next to her on the couch.
'Did you listen to
Patricia nodded.
'What do you think? Was it the minister?'
Patricia looked down at her hands through the tears. 'It could be one of the bigwigs- they left shortly after Jossie. They paid with one of those fancy government cards. And then the Germans- you know what they're like. Dad often talked about them.'
Annika stayed silent while Patricia cried. 'Everyone important to me dies.'
'Oh, come on,' Annika tried.
'First Dad, then Jossie…'
'Surely that's not 'everyone'? What about your mom?'
Patricia fished out a tissue and blew her nose. 'She doesn't want anything to do with me, calls me a whore. And she's got the whole family on her side.'
Annika went to get two glasses of water from the kitchen. She gave one to Patricia.
'So why do you work there?'
'Joachim thinks I'm good in the bar,' she said defiantly. 'And I make good money- I put away ten thousand every month. When I've got enough, I'm going to open a shop. I already know what I'm going to call it, The Crystal. I checked it. The name's available. I'm going to sell tarot cards and tell people's fortunes, help people find the right path-'
