The Long Shadow by Liza Marklund Read Free Book Online Page A

our reading group?’
    Reading group? Jesus Christ. ‘Erm …’ Annika braked at the traffic lights at the Rissne junction.
    ‘This week we’re reading a wonderful book by Marie Hermanson,
The Mushroom King’s Son
. It’s about working out what really matters, finding your place in the world. The son grows up in the forest but he really belongs on the coast. Do you like Marie Hermanson?’
    Annika had read
Clam Beach
, and had started a book about a man who lived under some stairs, but she hadn’t finished that one. ‘I don’t know,’ she said. ‘Things are a bit tricky right now, I started a new job at the papertoday, so everything will be a bit up in the air for a while.’
    ‘A new job?’ Sophia said. ‘But how’s that going to affect our weeks with the children?’
    There, right there, was the limit of how much crap Annika felt she had to put up with.
    ‘Listen,’ she said, ‘there’s a slim chance that I might discuss a serious change in my work with the father of my children, but I will never discuss my career with you. Have I made myself clear enough?’
    Sophia Fucking Bitch Grenborg sounded rather put out. ‘Why are you so aggressive? I only want what’s best for your children.’
    Annika let out an evil laugh. ‘You’re such a fucking hypocrite,’ she said, far too loudly. ‘If you wanted what’s best for my children, you wouldn’t have torn our family apart, you fucking …’ She had been on the point of saying ‘bitch on heat’ but felt that it wasn’t quite adequate. ‘I haven’t got time for you and your book group,’ she said instead. ‘There isn’t a chance in hell that I will ever be friends with you, so just drop it, okay?’
    She clicked to end the call without waiting for an answer.
    For the first time she didn’t feel remotely ashamed of shredding Sophia’s absurdly expensive bra at a petrol station outside Kungsör. And she felt less guilty now for having sent a tip-off to the paper from a fake email address that had made sure Thomas’s investigation at the Ministry of Justice was closed down suddenly. He didn’t seem to be suffering. He was now organizing new legislation in the area of international financial crime, and he certainly hadn’t seen fit to discuss
that
with her.
    Considering that it was rush-hour, the traffic was surprisingly light, but it was a short week after a publicholiday, and a lot of people were still away, like Nina Hoffman.
    She got back to the paper in time to pack up her laptop and go home.
    ‘Oy!’ Patrik yelled, the moment he caught sight of her. ‘You’re flying to Málaga first thing tomorrow morning.’
    Annika dropped her things back on the desk. ‘What are you talking about?’ she said.
    ‘You’re booked on a flight that leaves at six thirty a.m.,’ Patrik said.
    ‘For fuck’s sake,’ she said. ‘I can’t go anywhere. I’ve just moved – I haven’t even had time to unpack.’
    ‘You can’t have that many things, can you?’ Patrik said. ‘Your house burned down, didn’t it? Clobbe from Sport is on holiday in Marbella. He’s not going to win any prizes, but he can do the main piece for tomorrow. You can have a handover meeting with him when you get there. Then you need to concentrate on getting confirmation of the victims’ identity, and if it
is
Sebastian Söderström, you’ll probably be there the rest of the week.’
    Annika stared down into her bag. Erik Ponti’s arrogant lies about how much he valued Kicki Pop and had nothing whatsoever against P1 being invaded by noisy talk-shows were still ringing in her ears.
    But, of course, she was working to a rota now.
    ‘The tickets, then,’ Annika said. ‘Where are they? Or have I just got a booking number? Where am I staying? Do you want me to hire a car? Have we got an interpreter? Have we established contact with the local police? And who’s going to be taking the pictures?’
    Patrik stared at her briefly, then puffed out his chest. ‘You can sort all