'Well, have you been?' Annika said.
Evert Danielsson reflected.
'It depends on how you look at it,' he said.
'I see. Did you resign?'
'No, I did not.'
'So whose was the decision that you should change jobs? The board's?'
'Yes, they need someone to bring order in the chaos after…'
'Couldn't you have done that in your capacity as head of the Secretariat?'
'Well, yes, of course.'
'By the way, did you know that Christina Furhage had a son?'
'A son?' he said, confused. 'No, she had a daughter, Lena.'
'Well, she had a son as well. Do you know where he is?'
'I haven't got a clue. A son, you say? Never heard of him.'
Annika paused and thought for a moment. 'Okay,' she resumed, 'do you know which of the bosses at the Secretariat had an affair with a woman who had to leave seven years ago?'
Evert Danielsson felt his chin drop.
'Where did you get that information?' he said when he'd collected himself.
'From a news item in the paper. Do you know who it was?'
'Yes, I do. Why?'
'What happened?'
He thought for a moment, and then said: 'What do you really want?'
'I don't know,' Annika said, and Evert Danielsson thought she sounded perfectly sincere.
'I guess I just want to know how it all hangs together.'
Annika was surprised, to say the least, when Evert Danielsson asked her to come over to the Secretariat so they could have a chat.
Berit and Patrik still hadn't arrived when Annika set out for Hammarby Dock.
'I'm on my cellphone,' she said to Ingvar Johansson, who gave a curt nod.
She took a taxi and paid with her card. The weather was awful. All the snow had been washed away by the rain and left the ground in a state somewhere between mudhole and lake. Hammarby Dock was a sad part of town, with its empty, half-finished Olympic Village, gloomy offices, and busted stadium. The mud was flowing freely as the shrubs and flowerbeds planted last summer hadn't yet taken root. Annika jumped across the worst puddles but still got mud on her pant legs.
The reception area of SOCOG was spacious, but the offices inside were remarkably small and plain, Annika thought. She compared them with the only other administrative complex she was familar with, the Association of Local Authorities where Thomas worked. Their premises were nicer and more practical. The Secretariat was almost spartan: white walls, plastic floor, strip lights everywhere in the ceiling, white chipboard bookshelves, desks that could be from IKEA.
Evert Danielsson's office was halfway down a long corridor. It wasn't much bigger than the office clerks', something Annika found a bit odd. A sagging couch, a desk, and some bookcases, that was all. She had thought the head of a secretariat would have mahogany furniture and a window office.
'What makes you think Christina had a son?' Evert Danielsson said and invited her to sit on the couch.
'Thanks,' Annika said, sitting down. 'I have a picture of him.'
She pulled off her coat but decided not to take out a pad and pen. Instead she took a closer look at the man in front of her. He was sitting at his desk, holding on to the desk firmly with one hand- it looked a bit strange. He was around fifty, with a good head of steely gray hair and quite a pleasant face. But his eyes were tired, and he had a cheerless line around his mouth.
'I have to say I find that highly unlikely,' he said.
Annika pulled out a scan of the Furhage family photograph from her bag. She had returned the original to the archive since it wasn't allowed to leave the building, but nowadays you could scan a picture and have a paper copy within a minute. She handed the picture to Evert Danielsson who looked at it with obvious surprise.
'Well, I'll be damned…' he said. 'I had no idea.'
'Of the husband or the child?'
'Either, actually. Christina didn't talk about her private life.'
Annika waited in silence for the man to continue. She didn't quite understand why he had asked her to come there. He was fidgeting in his chair. Then he said:
'You were asking about the secretary who got fired.'
'Yes, I found a short piece about it in the archive. But there was no mention of her being a secretary or about being fired. All it said was she had worked here and had to go.'
Evert Danielsson nodded. 'That's how Christina wanted it. But Sara was an excellent secretary. She would doubtless have done well if it hadn't been for…'
The man fell silent.
'There is a rule within the Olympic organization saying that employees in the same workplace are not allowed to have a relationship,' he continued. 'Christina was adamant about it. She said it had a disruptive effect, disturbed people's focus, divided their loyalty. It subjected the others in the team to unnecessary stress; it made them play favorites.'
'Who was the man?' Annika asked.
Evert Danielsson sighed heavily.
'It was me.'
Annika felt herself raising her eyebrows.
'And whose rule was it?'
'Christina's. It applied to everyone.'
'Still?'
Evert Danielsson let go of his desk.
'I don't know, actually. But one thing I
He covered his face with his hands. He was crying again. Annika waited in silence while the man collected himself.
'I really loved Sara, but I was married,' he finally said, lowering one hand onto his lap and gripping the desk with the other. His eyes were dry but slightly red.
'You're not now?'
He gave a short laugh.
'Oh no. Someone told my wife about Sara, and Sara dropped me when I couldn't see to it that she could keep her job. I lost my wife and kids and lover at the same time.'
He fell silent for a while and then went on, almost as if speaking to himself:
'Sometimes I wonder if she seduced me to forward her career. When it was clear I was dragging her down, she dumped me like a hot brick.'
He gave another quick, bitter little laugh.
'So maybe she wasn't all that terrific, after all,' Annika ventured.
He looked up.
'No, perhaps not. But what are you going to do with this? Are you going to write about it?'
'Not at the moment,' Annika said. 'Maybe never. Would you mind if I did?'
'I don't know, it would depend on what you wrote. What are you after, really?'
'Why did you ask me to come here?'
He sighed.
'There's so much that comes to the surface on a day like this. Thoughts and feelings. It's chaotic. I've been here since the beginning, there's so much I could tell…'
