that Dessie Larsson was “a lightweight” and “a useless journalist.”
Everyone in the room turned to look at Dessie.
Hugo Bergman clearly didn’t like being spurned when he had paid for wine and dinner at a fancy restaurant, she thought. It was a hell of a price to pay for mashed potatoes.
Dessie stood up and went toward the door.
“I’m not even a member of the Journalists Federation,” she said. Jacob followed her out through the door.
Chapter 84
DESSIE COULD SEE THE SATELLITE dishes on the television crews’ vans, some of which had come all the way from Gцtgatan. What a waste of time, money, and gas.
The media storm had settled right outside her door, blocking the whole of Urvдdersgrдnd. She stopped, her bicycle beside her, and stared at the crowd. Jacob caught up with her and let out a quiet whistle. There were unfamiliar figures with huge microphones and colleagues she had met at the Association of Professional Newspapermen, photographers with long lenses, and radio reporters who looked like giant beetles with their broadcast antennas mounted on their backs.
“Impressive,” Jacob said drily. “You must be the hottest date in town.”
“I can’t go in there,” she said.
“They’ll go home when they get hungry,” Jacob said. “Come on, let’s go and get something to eat in the meantime.”
They headed toward Mariatorget. The sky was full of dark clouds; there was rain in the air.
They stopped at a steak house on Sankt Paulsgatan, where Jacob ordered barbecue ribs and Dessie corn on the cob.
“Is that all you’re having?” Jacob said when the food arrived.
“I don’t think I can even get this down,” she said in a quiet voice. He looked at her with something in his eyes she hadn’t seen before. If she didn’t know better, she’d say he was actually worried about her.
“I know you’re finding this unpleasant and unfair,” he said, “but you should know that you did the right thing. You’ve probably already prevented some murders.”
She finished her glass of wine and poured some more.
He put his hand on hers.
“Dessie,” he said, “listen to me, please. Kimmy was killed by these monsters, and you’re one of the reasons they’ve been caught. I thank you for that. I owe you my life.”
Chapter 85
JACOB’S HAND WAS DRY and warm, burning on her skin. She looked up and met his gaze.
“You must have loved her very much,” Dessie said before she could stop herself.
He shut his eyes tightly and squeezed her hand. For a few moments she thought he was going to start crying. She felt terrible for making him suffer like this.
“Yes,” he whispered, weaving his fingers through hers. “Yes, I did. It was just her and me…”
Dessie kept hold of his hand.
He stared out through the window, seemingly losing himself in his memories.
She looked at him and wondered what he was thinking.
“What happened to her mother?”
“Lucy? Yes, I’ve often wondered that, too.”
He pulled back his hand. The air in the restaurant suddenly felt cold on her skin.
He met her eyes and gave a little smile.
“I wasn’t the one who leaked that stuff to the Dagens Eko,” she said.
“I know that perfectly well,” he said, emptying his glass. “It was Evert Ridderwall.”
She blinked.
“What makes you say that?”
“He’ll change with the wind,” Jacob said. “He doesn’t have any principles, he just wants to avoid criticism. That leak was a test. He wanted to see what the media think of the Rudolphs.”
His knee ended up between hers under the table.
Neither of them changed position.
“Did you hear who they want as their lawyer?” Dessie said, emptying her second glass of wine. “Andrea Friederichs.”
“And?” Jacob said, filling her glass.
Dessie took a deep sip.
“She isn’t an expert on criminal law. She’s a copyright lawyer. Doesn’t that seem a bit strange to you?”
Chapter 86
THE MEDIA CROWD OUTSIDE Dessie’s front door hadn’t gotten any smaller. It actually seemed bigger. It was starting to resemble the mob that gathers outside courtrooms for notable court cases in New York. Jacob knew all about them. He’d had to fight his way through a phalanx of reporters and microphones on numerous occasions.
“Okay,” she said with a sigh. “I take it they aren’t hungry yet. Nobody’s leaving.”
She was standing close to Jacob, hiding behind him so as not to be seen from the top of the narrow street.
He resisted an impulse to push a strand of hair away from her face.
“I don’t know that I want to see myself darting into a doorway in all the papers and newscasts tomorrow,” she said in a low voice.
“No need,” he said.
She looked at him with her big eyes. He took a deep breath before going on.
“My roommate has gone back to Finland. You can have the lower bunk in my cell on Lеngholmen. It’s not a problem.”
He said it in a light, joking way, careful not to show any feeling. It’s not a problem.
She hesitated a few seconds before answering, her eyes still on his. Then she made up her mind. “Okay,” she said and turned her bicycle around.
It started to rain as they passed the Zinkensdamm metro station, almost halfway to the hostel.
They started walking quickly. Jacob turned up the collar of his suede jacket, but the water still trickled down his back. He shivered in the cold.
“I can give you a ride if you like,” she said. “If you have the guts to get on.”
“On the bike?”
She nodded. “Of course. Only if you dare.”
He sat on the narrow luggage carrier at the back, holding on to her hips with both hands. She set a good pace, and they flew past a large church with two identical spires. Her thighs moved rhythmically and methodically. She was strong and obviously in good shape.
He was suddenly overwhelmed with a memory of Lucy. She had once given him a ride like this in Brooklyn, a hundred years ago, a thousand years ago, before Kimmy, before the drugs and adulthood with all its complications came into the picture and shattered a perfect life for all of them. He jumped off as Dessie rolled into the parking lot in front of the youth hostel.
“What are the rules?” she asked, taking off her helmet. “Are you allowed lady visitors in your room?”
