The Bomber

'Yes, that's the going rate.'

'Why the hell didn't I become a photographer? Of course you can come and pick up my film! When will you be here?'

Annika took down the address and some simple directions and then finished the call. She picked up a roll of film at the picture desk and went out to Tore Brand at the porters' desk to ask if one of the drivers could go out to Vallentuna. 'No problem,' said Tore.

'By the way, someone was asking for you earlier today,' he said as Annika was just about to leave.

'Oh- who?'

'She didn't say. She wanted to give you something.'

'What was it?'

'She didn't say that either. Said she'd come back later.'

Annika smiled, groaning inwardly. They really should learn to take a message properly. Any day now it could be something important.

She walked past Patrik's desk on the way back to her office, but he was out. She'd have to call him on his cellphone to check up with him before the Six Session. As she walked past Eva-Britt Qvist's desk, the phone started ringing in her office. She ran over and answered. It was Thomas.

'When are you coming home?'

'I don't know, late, I think. Maybe around nine.'

'I have to get back to work, we have a meeting at six.'

Annika felt herself getting angry.

'Six o'clock? But I'm working. I have a meeting at six, too! Why didn't you call earlier?'

Thomas sounded calm, but Annika could hear the anger was building up in him, too.

'The Eko ran some stuff about the government's regional bill this afternoon. It came as a complete bombshell at the Association of Local Authorities. Politicians from the advisory committee are on their way here now and I have to be there. You understand that, don't you?'

Annika closed her eyes and breathed. Shit, shit, she'd have to go home now.

'We agreed that I was going to work Monday and Wednesday and you Tuesday and Thursday,' she said. 'I've stuck to my part of the deal. My job is just as important as yours.'

Thomas climbed down. Now he was appealing to her.

'Please, honey. I know, you're right. But I have to go back, you've got to understand that. This is a panic meeting; it won't take long. I've made dinner already, all you have to do is come home and eat with the kids and I'll come back straight after the meeting. We should be done by eight, there isn't really much to be said. You can go back to work when I come back.'

She sighed and closed her eyes, pressing one hand against her forehead.

'Okay. I'll go right now.'

She went outside to tell Ingvar Johansson about Herman Osel's photo, but the news editor wasn't at his desk. Picture Pelle was on the phone, so she waved her hand in front of his face.

'What?' he said, putting the receiver against his shoulder, annoyed.

'Some pictures are on their way from Vallentuna of Christina Furhage and Stefan Bjurling together. Develop the film and make prints of all negs. I have to go, but I'll be back by eight. Okay?'

Picture Pelle nodded and resumed his conversation.

She didn't bother to call for a taxi but took one from the stand in the street below. She felt the stress like a lump in her stomach. It grew until she had difficulty breathing. This was certainly not what she needed right now.

Back at home, the children rushed toward her with kisses and drawings. Thomas gave her a quick kiss on his way out. He took the taxi she'd arrived in.

'Hey, listen, let me take my coat off. Calm down…'

Ellen and Kalle were stopped short by the irritated note in her voice. She leaned down and hugged them just a little bit too hard and walked over to the phone. She called Ingvar Johansson, but he'd gone into the Six Session. She groaned out loud. Now she wouldn't have time to tell the others what her desk had been doing all day. Oh, well, she'd have to talk to Spike later.

The food was on the table, and the kids had eaten already. She sat down and tried to eat a chicken leg, but the food just grew in her mouth until she was forced to spit it all out. She had a few mouthfuls of rice and then threw the rest away. She usually didn't manage to eat at all when she was this stressed.

'You have to eat,' Kalle said reproachfully.

She placed the kids in front of the TV, closed the door to the living room, and called Patrik.

'The Tiger phoned,' the reporter howled. 'He's furious.'

'Why?' Annika asked.

'Believe it or not, he's on his honeymoon on Tenerife- Playa de las Americas. He left last Thursday and will be coming home tomorrow. He says the cops knew very well that he was there; they'd checked all departures from Arlanda and found his name. The Spanish police picked him up and held him for questioning a whole afternoon. It made him miss a barbecue and the free pool-side drink. Sad, isn't it…?'

Annika smiled wanly.

'Will you write something on that?'

'Sure.'

'Did you hear the Eko item about the lab report on the explosives?'

'Yes, I'm sorting that out as we speak. Ulf Olsson and I are in an explosives depot, blowing shit up. Did you know the explosives look like sausages?'

Dear Patrik! He was so enthusiastic. Whatever the situation. He always found his own angle.

'Did you get anywhere with the police hunt?'

'Nope, they're not saying a word. But I think they're closing in on someone.'

'We have to get some kind of confirmation. I'll try to get something out of them tonight,' Annika said.

'We have to get out of here now or we'll get a headache, our blaster friend is telling us. Talk to you later.'

The children's programs must have ended. The kids had started squabbling over a comic book. She went in to them and switched over to TV2 for the local news.

'Can we do a jigsaw, Mom?'

They sat down on the floor with a wooden jigsaw puzzle of twenty-five pieces depicting the storybook's characters Alfons and Milla in their treehouse. They stayed there until the familiar tune of the local ABC news started up at ten past seven. She sent the children out to brush their teeth while she checked out what ABC had put together. They had been to Satra Hall and got in the judges' room. The footage wasn't particularly dramatic, since there didn't seem to have been much blast damage to the room itself. All traces of poor Steffe had been thoroughly scrubbed away. They said nothing about an arrest being at hand. She went out into the bathroom and helped the children with their teeth while ABC proceeded with a report on Christmas sales.

'Put your pajamas on and then we'll read a story. And don't forget the fluoride tablets!'

She left them to bicker in their room while watching the headlines of Rapport. They went to town on the regional bill, nothing she needed to watch. She read a story to the children and tucked them in, but they were being difficult and did not intend to go to sleep.

'It's Christmas soon and all children have to be good, or Santa Claus won't come,' she said menacingly, feeling bad for threatening her kids.

But it did the trick, and soon they were asleep. She called Thomas at work and on his cellphone, but naturally he didn't answer either. She started up the old PC in the bedroom and quickly wrote down the main points of her conversation with Helena Starke from memory. As she saved the document onto a disk, she was becoming increasingly anxious. Where the hell was Thomas?

Just after half past eight he arrived.

'Thanks, honey,' he panted as he stepped inside the front door.

'Did you tell the taxi to wait?' she asked more brusquely than she intended.

'Shit! No, I forgot.'