Prime Time by Liza Marklund Read Free Book Online

time.’
    The policeman prodded her.
    ‘Watch it,’ Annika exclaimed sharply. ‘You can’t just detain journalists for questioning. If the police have detained or arrested a reporter working for one of Sweden’s major newspapers, you are required to report this fact to his employer.’
    This wasn’t true, but the officer didn’t know that for sure.
    ‘I honestly don’t know,’ he said. ‘I have no idea.’
    ‘How many people have been interviewed?’
    ‘Everyone who stayed here last night.’
    ‘How many people would that be?’
    ‘A dozen. And another associate of yours is here too – that older woman who writes a column.’
    Annika gaped.
    ‘Barbara Hanson? What’s she doing here?’
    Leaning in close, the policeman lowered his voice.
    ‘There haven’t been any arrests, at any rate,’ he said. ‘I would have been told.’
    ‘Has the staff here at the castle been interviewed too?’
    ‘Not at the present time. None of them were here last night.’
    ‘Anything else?’ Annika hurried to ask.
    A man in a raincoat and tall boots was heading in their direction, unsettling the policeman.
    ‘You’ve got to go,’ he said, taking her arm and turning her away from the castle.
    They walked slowly towards the bridge, back to where the other journalists were waiting. Annika pulled out her cellphone and called Spike.
    The news editor appeared to be eating at his desk. She could hear him chomping away and trying to talk in between bites.
    ‘What does Wennergren have to say?’
    ‘I don’t know, he’s only allowed to talk to the police.’
    ‘What the hell, have they arrested Wennergren? He’s a journalist, for God’s sake!’
    There was a sound of something moist landing on the receiver, Annika grimaced.
    ‘I didn’t say he’d been arrested, he’s only been detained for questioning. Anyhow, he’s in good company. Barbara’s here too.’
    ‘Hanson? Damn it, Schyman ordered her to quit writing any more crap about Michelle Carlsson.’
    Annika felt slightly stupid; she didn’t know what Spike was referring to. To be honest, she hadn’t really kept up to date during her maternity leave, particularly when it came to Barbara Hanson’s nasty gossip columns. She changed the subject.
    ‘A total of twelve people have been detained for questioning.’
    ‘Who are they?’
    The news editor had apparently finished his meal. He burped and lit a cigarette.
    ‘Mostly people from the TV team, I suppose, but I’ll find out.’
    ‘We want their names and pictures,’ Spike said, and began composing headlines. ‘“Survivors of the castle bloodbath. One of them is a murderer – and then they were twelve …” Great stuff!’
    ‘Pure poetry,’ Annika remarked and hung up.
    ‘What do we do now?’ Bertil Strand asked.
    ‘Head for the parking lot,’ Annika replied.
    They crawled under the police tape at the end of the bridge and joined the rest of the media representatives.
    ‘How did you get in?’ one of their competitor’s reporters asked, a tall blond man in a wet leather jacket.
    ‘We hid in the grounds last night,’ Annika said and started to head for the Stables.
    She relaxed. Her body was starting to return to normal. The cramps in her arms had gone away and the knot in her stomach had relaxed. The water that had trickled down the back of her neck had been warmed up by her skin and she walked around a bit to limber up her stiff joints.
    A policeman in uniform came out from the Stables and fiddled with the lock. He hurried off in the direction of the castle without acknowledging the presence of the journalists. Annika followed his progress and felt some more rain trickle down the back of her neck. The ground was spongy and waterlogged, creating puddles at her feet. She stared at the surface: brown, spotty gravel and debris. It smelled musty and sour.
    Sweden , she thought. What a lousy country it is.
    Shocked at her thought, she focused on the positive aspects.
    Our ice-hockey team is good, at