The Bomber by Liza Marklund Read Free Book Online Page B

answers. Now, for example, she could see just how angry Kjell Lindström was with Evert Danielsson for shooting his mouth off about "acts of terrorism." If there was one thing the Swedish police were extremely keen to steer clear of, it was for the world to put the taint of terrorism on Stockholm and the Olympic Games. The terrorist angle was probably totally off the mark. For once, though, they actually had released some new information. Annika scribbled some questions in her notepad. There was the bit about a person wearing dark clothes having been seen near the arena— when and where? If there was a witness, who was it and what was he or she doing there? The explosives had been sent to London for analysis— why? Why wasn't the forensic lab in Linköping dealing with it? And when were the results of the analysis expected? How did they know the explosives were civilian-made? What were the implications for the investigation? Did it narrow it down or widen its reach? How easy are civilian-made explosives to come by? How long would it take to repair the North Stand? Is the arena insured, and if so, by whom? And who was the victim? Did they know? And what were the lines of enquiry Kjell Lindström had been talking about that might help them in the investigation? She sighed again. This could become a very long, drawn-out story.
     
     
    * * *
Chief District Prosecutor Kjell Lindström strode down the corridor leading from the conference room. His face was pale and taut. He gripped the handle of his briefcase so tight his knuckles were white. He felt sure that unless he managed to keep his hands in check, he would strangle Evert Danielsson. Behind him followed the rest of the participants in the press conference, plus three uniformed cops who had been standing in the background. One of them pulled the door closed, shutting out the last of the persistent reporters.
     
     
"I don't see why it should be so controversial to say what everyone is thinking," the director said from behind him. "It's perfectly obvious to everyone that it's a terrorist attack. The Olympic Secretariat believes it's important to quickly establish an opinion, a force that can withstand any attempt to sabotage the Games…"
     
     
The prosecutor spun around to face Evert Danielsson, inches from his face.
     
     
"Read my lips: There is no suspicion whatsoever of a terrorist act. Okay? The last thing the police need right now is a big fucking debate about terrorist control. That would place demands on the security of arenas and public buildings that we just don't have the resources for…. Do you know how many arenas are connected with the Games in one way or another? Yes, of course you do. Don't you remember what happened when the Tiger was doing his thing? He let off a couple of charges and every frigging reporter in the country went sniffing around unprotected arenas in the middle of the night. Then they wrote sensationalist stories about the shitty security."
     
     
"How can you be so sure it's not a terrorist attack?" Danielsson said, somewhat intimidated.
     
     
Lindström sighed and resumed. "Believe me, we have our reasons."
     
     
"Such as?" the director persevered.
     
     
The prosecutor stopped again. Calmly, he said, "It was an inside job. Someone in the Olympic organization did it. Okay? One of your lot, mate. That's why it's extremely unfortunate for you to go mouthing off about terrorist attacks. Do you understand what I'm saying?"
     
     
Evert Danielsson turned pale. "That's not possible."
     
     
Kjell Lindström started walking again. "Oh, yes, it is. And if you would follow the investigators up to the Serious Crimes Division, you can tell them exactly who in your organization has access to all entry cards, keys, and security codes for Victoria Stadium."
     
     
    * * *
The moment Annika entered the newsroom after the press conference, Ingvar Johansson waved to her from behind the office modem computer.
     
     
"Come and see if you can