Hitman Anders and the Meaning of It All by Jonas Jonasson Read Free Book Online

separate ways.
    The priest was disappointed. There was something harsh and lovely about the receptionist. She should never have put a price on the prayer back on that park bench. Now that—to her own surprise—she was fishing for a little bit of love, that first encounter put her at a disadvantage.
    But a shared bottle of wine there was, and maybe it was thanks to that bottle that they were able to agree that media attention would be an admittedly risky yet effective method of reaching their stated goals. It was decided that the hitman would give an exclusive interview to some suitable Swedish medium, and his unusual talent would become evident.
    The receptionist read morning papers, evening papers, weekly papers, and magazines; he watched all sorts of programs on various TV channels, listened to the radio—and decided that the best and most immediate results could be obtained from one of the two national tabloids. His final decision was Expressen , because it sounded faster than Aftonbladet.
    Meanwhile, the priest explained the plan to Hitman Anders and practiced patiently with him for his coming interview. He was fed information about the message they were reaching out with, what must be said, and what absolutely could not be said. The long and the short of it was that he would appear, in the newspaper, to be
    Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â  1. for sale
    Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â  2. dangerous, and
    Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â  3. insane.
    â€œDangerous and insane . . . I think I can manage that,” said Hitman Anders, without sounding totally sure of himself.
    â€œYou have all the prerequisites,” the priest said encouragingly.
    Once all the preparations had been made, the receptionist contacted the news editor at the chosen paper and said he was able to offer them an exclusive interview with the mass murderer Johan Andersson, better known as Hitman Anders.
    The news editor had never heard of any mass murderer by that name, but she knew a good headline when she heard one. “Hitman Anders” fit the bill. She asked to hear more.
    Well, Per Persson explained, the thing was, Johan Andersson had spent his entire adult life behind bars for recurrent murders. Perhaps it was an exaggeration to call him a mass murderer, but Per Persson didn’t dare to guess how many skeletons Hitman Anders had in his closet, beyond the ones he had gone to prison for.
    In any case, these days the living murder machine was free, out in the world, and sent word via Per Persson that he would be happy to meet Expressen to say he had become a better person. Or not.
    â€œOr not?” said the news editor.
    It didn’t take more than a few minutes for the newspaper to look up Johan Andersson’s pathetic history. Hitman Anders was not a name that had been used in the media previously, so the receptionist had prepared an exhaustive argument about how the name had come about and stuck during the man’s most recent jolt in prison, but his worry in this case was unwarranted. Expressen ’s reasoning was that if your name is Hitman Anders, then your name is Hitman Anders. This was brilliant! The paper had its very own mass murderer on the hook. That was better than any old sensational murder story.
    A reporter and a photographer met Hitman Anders and his friends in the slightly spiffed-up lobby of the Sea Point Hotel the very next day. His friends began by taking the reporter to one side to explain that the two of them must not figure in the report because such exposure might jeopardize their lives. Did they have the reporter’s word on this?
    Young and plainly nervous, he had to ponder this for a moment. It would never do for outsiders to dictate the conditions of the paper’s journalism. On the other hand, Johan Andersson was the subject of the interview. It seemed reasonable to leave out the tipsters. But it was tougher for him to comply with their demand for still images only, no audio or