The Final Word by Liza Marklund Read Free Book Online Page A

have anything interesting to contribute?’
    ‘She did, actually. There are similar cases in other countries. The investigations are being coordinated.’
    ‘And she said that in the witness stand? Brilliant. Do you think he’ll be found guilty?’
    Berit settled on her chair. ‘The entire case rests on one DNA result,’ she said. ‘It might not be enough.’
    ‘Berglund’s never been linked to any other violent crime,’ Annika said.
    ‘And now there’s actually reasonable doubt,’ Berit said.
    ‘Has he talked?’ Patrik Nilsson asked, materializing next to them.
    ‘He used to pan-fry his victims’ livers and eat them with capers and garlic,’ Annika said.
    Patrik looked as irritated as she had hoped.
    ‘There’s one new piece of evidence,’ Berit said. ‘National Crime and Europol are sharing the investigation with police forces in other countries. That’s why it’s taken so long to come to trial.’
    Red circles appeared on Patrik’s cheeks. ‘SUSPECTED OF SERIAL KILLINGS ALL OVER EUROPE!’ he said, in capital letters.
    ‘I don’t know,’ Berit said. ‘He hasn’t been convicted yet.’
    ‘That’s just a matter of how you phrase it,’ Patrik said, and bounced off towards the newsdesk.
    ‘Did you get anything from your prosecutor?’ Berit asked.
    Annika handed her the list of witnesses as her intercom crackled into life.
    ‘Can you come into my office for a moment?’ editor-in-chief Anders Schyman asked, through the tinny speaker.
    ‘Now?’ Annika said. ‘Right away?’
    ‘Preferably.’
    The intercom crackled and died.
    ‘Great news,’ Berit said, passing the list back. ‘Imagine if you could get them to talk.’
    Annika stood up and went over to Schyman’s glass box. He was sitting there looking at her so she didn’t bother to knock, just walked in and closed the door firmly behind her. It was never left open, these days.
    ‘What did the prosecutor say?’ her boss asked. He was seated behind his desk, looking heavier than ever.
    ‘I got the list of witnesses. Why do we have to have the air-conditioning set to below freezing?’
    He looked at her quizzically. On the desk in front of him lay bundles of notes, printouts, Post-its and something Annika thought might, with a bit of imagination, be a flowchart.
    ‘What witnesses? There were witnesses to the murder?’
    ‘The ones who gave the killer his alibi. Did you want anything in particular?’
    The editor-in-chief scratched his beard. ‘Sit down,’ he said, pointing at the chair on the other side of the desk.
    Without knowing why, she felt suddenly unsettled. Something in his tone, perhaps, or the greyness of his skin. The chair wobbled as she sat.
    ‘Have you got much left to do on the stripper’s murder?’
    ‘The stripper’s name was Josefin. She dreamed of becoming a reporter, and she liked cats. Yes, I’ve got a bit to do – I’ve only just started. Why?’
    ‘What do you think are the chances of one of these cases being solved? Or getting to trial?’
    ‘Are we in a hurry?’
    Schyman sat motionless, his arms resting on the desk.
    ‘Has your successor been appointed?’ she asked. ‘Is it going to be that bloke from the radio?’
    Schyman breathed out, making a sort of bottomless sigh, then pushed his chair back and hit the bookcase. ‘It’s not going to be him. Why? Have you got any suggestions?’
    ‘I have, actually,’ she said. ‘Berit.’
    He rubbed his forehead. ‘I see. Well, I already knew that.’
    ‘I’m telling you again, because I’m right.’
    ‘Justify it.’
    ‘She’s easily the best reporter on the
Evening Post
, with the widest range of coverage. She can do everything, and has usually already done it. She never gets stressed, she’s got excellent judgement, and she’ll be loyal to this paper until the day she dies.’
    Schyman blinked. ‘So you’re saying she’s got the experience, knowledge, loyalty, ability, calmness and judgement?’
    ‘It’s actually pretty