breath.
'I'm the information officer at the Trade Council,' said a man with a cut-glass accent. 'You were interested in seeing some documents.'
Annika sank down onto the couch with her coat on and the bag still across her shoulder. 'I was told that the council isn't a public authority and that I couldn't.'
'Well, we are. Just send us a written request, and we'll enter it in the daybook and decide whether the document in question can be handed out. Some papers are classified.'
Oh, really, she thought. You've changed your tune now. 'Thanks a lot for phoning back.'
The woman she'd first spoken to had been talking through her hat, but Annika couldn't be bothered to get irritated by the autocratic stupidity of civil servants. So many of them still didn't know that the principle of public access to official records was part of the freedom of the press law as established in the Constitution. All documents at all public authorities had to be handed over at once to someone who asked to see them, unless they had been statutorily declared secret.
Everything in the world you should do yourself, Annika thought, so you could be sure it got done properly.
She got up and hung up her coat and bag, and then she called the Cherry Company to see if she could get a job.
'We're full at the moment,' said the head of personnel. 'Try again in the spring.'
It hit her like a brick in the back of her head. She put the phone down and swallowed. Now what was she going to do?
She got to her feet, drank some water in the kitchen, and looked in on Patricia. The woman was fast asleep with her mouth open. Annika stood watching her for a while.
Patricia knows a lot more than she's telling me, she thought. The police should know where she's staying. And she had something to tell them now.
She closed the door cautiously and went back to the phone.
Q was in. 'Course I remember you. You're the one fishing for information on Josefin Liljeberg.'
'I was working as a journalist then. I don't anymore.'
'So,' the police captain said, clearly amused, 'why are you calling me now?'
'I know where Patricia can be found.'
'Who?'
Annika felt stupid. 'Josefin's roommate.'
'Right. Where is she then?'
'With me. Sharing my apartment.'
'Sounds familiar. Better be careful. Anyway, we can find her at the club. What do you want?'
'Don't be an asshole,' Annika snapped. 'I'd like to know what's happened in your investigation.'
He laughed. 'You would, would you?'
'I know the minister was in Tallinn that night. Why doesn't he want that to be made public?'
The police officer's laughter died away. 'You're a devil at digging things up. How did you find out about that?'
'You knew all along, didn't you?'
'Of course we did. We know a lot of things we don't let on to the media.'
'Do you know what he was doing there?'
The police officer hesitated. 'Actually, we don't. It wasn't part of the investigation.'
'Didn't you wonder?'
'Not really. Some politicians' meeting, I imagine.'
'On a Friday night?'
They fell silent.
'I don't care what the minister was up to. All I'm interested in is the perpetrator.'
'And it's not Christer Lundgren?'
'No.'
'So as far as the police are concerned, the case has been cleared up, is that right?'
Q sighed. 'Thanks for telling me where Patricia's staying. Not that we've missed her, but you never know.'
'Couldn't you tell me something more about the investigation?' Annika pleaded.
'Then you'll have to bring me something better. Now, I've got stuff to do.'
He rang off. Annika dropped down on her back on the couch and closed her eyes. She had some thinking to do.
'Have you got a moment?'
Anders Schyman looked up; Berit Hamrin had popped her head around the door.
'Sure.' The deputy editor closed the document on his screen. 'Come on in.'
Berit closed the door carefully behind her and sat down on the new leather couch. 'How's it going?'
'So-so. This is an unwieldy ship we have here.'
Berit smiled. 'It's not going to alter course that easily. For what it's worth, I think you're doing the right thing. We should look at what we are doing more closely.'
The man gave a light sigh. 'I'm glad someone agrees with me. It doesn't always feel that way.'
Berit rubbed her hands together. 'Well, I was wondering about the crime desk. We've got a vacancy now, since Sjolander was moved to current affairs. Are you going to fill it?'
Schyman turned around to the bookcase, pulled out a ring binder, and leafed through it. 'No. The senior editors decided to keep Sjolander at current affairs, and crime will have to make do with you and the other two. The editor in chief wants to keep a low profile on crime stories for the time being. He's still reeling from the criticism on
Berit chewed on her lip. 'I think he's wrong,' she said cautiously. 'I don't think we'll get out of this crisis by slamming on the brakes. I think we should go full speed ahead but carefully. But we can't do that with the present staff.'
Schyman nodded. 'I agree with you. But the way things are looking at the moment, there's no way I could do anything like you're suggesting. It would mean reorganizing and recruiting new reporters.'
'Then I've got a suggestion.'
The deputy editor smiled at her. 'I'm sure you do.'
'Annika Bengtzon is a very alert young woman. She turns things around fast, and she has a completely different approach in her thinking. She goes too far sometimes, but I think that could be remedied. I think we should try to hire her back.'
The deputy editor made a gesture of resignation. 'Sorry, but she's stone dead here right now. The editor in chief gets a rash at the mere mention of her name. I argued pretty strongly in favor of her when Carl Wennergren's contract was up for grabs, and that nearly cost me my job. Jansson was on my side, but the rest of the senior editors wanted to throw her out on her ear.'
'And so you did,' Berit said a bit tartly.
Schyman shrugged. 'Sure, but it's not going to kill her. I talked to her just before she left. She was pissed off, all right, but she was in control.'
Berit stood up. 'I met Annika last night. She's got something going, something to do with the IB affair, I'm not quite sure what.'
'I'm happy for her to write freelance.'
Berit smiled. 'I'll tell her that if I see her.'
Patricia knocked on Annika's bedroom door.
'I'm sorry, but the kitchen's empty and it's your turn to do the shopping.'
