Without a Trace by Liza Marklund Read Free Book Online

The woman turned her face to the wall. She seemed to be fighting back tears.
    ‘He was personally responsible for developing the system of coordinating maritime transport,’ Bert Tingström said. ‘It’s unique – there’s nothing like it anywhere else in the world, and he’s planning to expand it hugely over the next few years.’
    ‘And so tragic for his family,’ Hans Olovsson said. ‘Ingemar is devoted to his wife and children. This must have hit them incredibly hard.’
    The three men nodded again. The woman wiped her nose. Valter glanced at Annika, who was sitting quite still, observing the situation. When she was younger, she occasionally found that she became invisible when she was out on a job, especially if she happened to be accompanied by a male photographer who felt the need to assert himself, but it had been years since that had happened.
    ‘When was the last time any of you spoke to Ingemar Lerberg?’ she asked.
    The three men turned towards her, then looked at each other questioningly.
    ‘Well,’ said Hans Olovsson, ‘we’re in touch all the time, so it’s a bit hard to—’
    ‘Do you see each other regularly?’ Annika asked. ‘At local meetings, or at party conferences?’
    All three nodded, now looking at her and Valter. Yes, at meetings and conferences, definitely.
    ‘What does his wife say? Have you spoken to her?’
    ‘No, presumably she’s at the hospital,’ Bert Tingström said. ‘At her husband’s side.’
    ‘So you haven’t spoken to her?’
    No answer. Annika looked at her notepad. She hadn’t written anything. ‘Why did you arrange this meeting?’ she asked quietly. ‘What do you want? Really?’
    Silence descended around the table. Valter squirmed. The ventilation hummed. Klas Borsthammar stared at her – she certainly had his attention now. He straightened his shoulders slightly.
    ‘We know that the media will be interested in the party leadership’s comments about what’s happened,’ he said.
    Annika met his eye. He glared back.
    ‘So what has happened?’ she said. ‘Could you describe it to me?’
    The three men glanced at each other, and the woman sniffed loudly.
    ‘Our party colleague has been grievously assaulted in his own home,’ the party secretary said, rather uncertainly.
    ‘Yes,’ Annika said. ‘That much is already clear. But what else? How did it happen? Is he going to pull through? What sort of injuries did he suffer? What can you say that we don’t already know?’
    There were several seconds of silence. Then Bert Tingström cleared his throat. ‘His arms and legs have been dislocated. And he was severely beaten as well.’
    Annika’s throat contracted.
Arms and legs dislocated?
There was something very odd about this business. ‘What are your thoughts on the assault? Could it have been politically motivated?’
    The men exchanged glances again.
    ‘Possibly,’ Klas Borsthammar said. ‘There are so many violent lunatics on the extreme left. One of them could certainly have attacked him. Like that man in Tucson, Arizona, the one who shot that congresswoman in the head …’
    ‘You mean the man who shot Gabrielle Giffords?’ Annika said. ‘He was hardly left-wing, surely.’
    ‘Unless there was a financial motive,’ Hans Olovsson said. ‘A successful businessman like Ingemar always runs the risk of extortion. Criminals in this country are crossing the line more and more.’
    ‘Was there anything in his political activities in recent years that was controversial enough to provoke an attack of this nature?’ Annika asked.
    ‘How controversial were the young people on Utøya?’ Bert Tingström wondered.
    He had her there, Annika thought.
    ‘Has anything happened to his business recently? Anything that could have prompted the assault?’
    They all looked at Bert Tingström. ‘Well,’ he said, ‘I don’t know if the expansion of the company was imminent, but Ingemar had talked about it …’
    The woman hadn’t said a