Liza Marklund - The Bomber

Annika felt her tears rolling. She had never written anything so appalling in her life. She was close to passing out. She'd been sitting on the stool for several hours. Her legs ached so badly she wanted to scream out. The charge on her back was heavy. She was so tired she just wanted to lie down, even if it meant setting off the charge and dying.

"Why are you crying?" Beata said suspiciously.

Annika breathed for a second before she replied: "Because it got so difficult for you. Why couldn't she have let you do it the right way?"

Beata nodded and also wiped away a tear. "I know," she said. "Life's never fair."

"It was easier with Stefan. That went more or less according to my plans. I made him responsible for finishing off the judges' changing rooms before the Christmas holidays. The choice of location was simple. That's where I first met Stefan and where he told me that the workers in Sätra Hall would all freeze me out. I knew he would do the work himself. Stefan played the horses and took every opportunity to put in some overtime. He saw to it that he was the only one left at the site, and then he bumped up his hours on his time sheet. This must have been going on for years. No one ever checked up on him since he was a foreman. Besides, he was a fast worker when he wanted to be and pretty sloppy, too.

"Last Monday, I went to work as usual. Everyone was talking about the blowing up of Christina Furhage, but no one said anything to me. I hadn't expected them to either.

"In the evening, I stayed on in the office with my papers. When the hall was quiet, I took a stroll and saw that Stefan Bjurling was working in the changing rooms at the far end. I went to my locker and got out my gym bag. Inside it were my treasures: the peppermint rocks, the yellow and green wires, the masking tape, and the small timer. This time I didn't bring a hammer; it had been far too messy. Instead I'd bought a rope, the kind you use for children's swings and similar. The rope around your neck is from the same roll. While Stefan was drilling into the far wall, I walked in, put the rope around his neck and pulled. Hard. This time I was more determined. I would not tolerate any screaming or fighting. Stefan Bjurling dropped the drill and tumbled backwards. I was ready for it and used his fall to pull the noose even tighter. He lost consciousness and I struggled to get him onto the chair standing nearby. I tied him to it and dressed him for his funeral. Peppermint rocks, fuse, timer, and flashlight battery. I fastened it all to his back and waited patiently for him to come around.

"He didn't say anything, but I saw that his eyelids were twitching. I explained to him what was going to happen and why. The reign of Evil on Earth was coming to an end. He was going to die because he was a monster. I explained to him that more people would go his way. I have many more treasures in my box. Then I set the timer for five minutes and walked back to my office. On my way, I made sure that all doors were unlocked. The Bomber would have had no problem getting inside the building. I pretended to be shocked by the explosion when I called the police. I lied to them and said someone else had done what was really my work. They took me to South Hospital and escorted me into the Accident and Emergency Department. They said they wanted to interview me the following day. I decided to go on lying for the time being. The time wasn't yet ripe for the truth. It is now.

"The doctors examined me, I assured them I was just fine, and then I walked through the city, past Yttersta Tvärgränd and home. I realized it was time for me to leave my house for good. That night I slept in it for the last time. It was a brief and composed leave-taking. I already knew then that I would never return. My wanderings will end elsewhere.

"Early Tuesday morning, I went to work to collect my last belongings. When I entered Sätra Hall, I was met by the instant and unfair censure of the building. I was overcome with a deep and heavy sadness, so I hid in a room where the building couldn't see me. In vain, naturally, because that's when you found me."

Annika felt she couldn't write any more. She put her hands on her lap and bowed her head.

"What is it?" Beata asked.

"I'm so tired," Annika said. "Can I stand up and move my legs? They've fallen asleep."

Beata looked at her in silence for a moment. "All right, then, but don't you try anything.

Annika slowly stood up; she had to lean against the wall not to fall over. She stretched and bent her legs as well as she could with the rattling chains. She glanced furtively at her feet and saw that Beata had used two small padlocks to fasten the chains. If only she could get hold of the keys somehow, she could get loose. It looked hopeless. She didn't even know where the keys were.

"Don't think you can get away," Beata said.

Annika looked up with feigned surprise. "Of course not," she said. "We haven't finished our work yet."

She moved the stool away from the table a bit to get more room for her legs.

"There's not much left now," Beata said.

She studied Annika, and Annika realized that she didn't know what to think.

"Do you want to read it?" she said and turned the computer so that the screen was facing Beata.

The woman didn't reply.

"It would be good if you could read it through to make sure I've got everything right. And you should size up my tone of voice. I haven't quoted you directly all the time, but have made your story a bit more literary," Annika said.

Beata studied Annika closely, then she walked up to the table and moved it closer to her.

"Could I rest for a while?" Annika wondered, and Beata nodded.

Annika lay down and turned her back to the Bomber. She needed to think about her next move.

Two years before, a man in his sixties had disappeared on the ice in the Stockholm archipelago. It was a sunny and warm late-winter day. The man had gone out walking and lost his way. For three days and nights the coast guard and the police had searched for him. Annika had been in the helicopter that finally saved him.

Suddenly, she knew exactly what she had to do.

Thomas got up from the bed. He wouldn't be able to get any more sleep. He went to the bathroom and peed. He went over to the living room window and stood staring at the Royal Palace again. The traffic had died down. The floodlit facades on the majestic neighboring buildings, the glimmering streetlights, the depth of the black water- the view really was stunning. Yet he felt he couldn't stand it for another second. He felt as if he'd lost Annika right here in this room. It was here that he'd realized that she might be gone forever.

He rubbed his dry, red eyes and heaved a deep sigh. He'd made up his mind. As soon as the children woke up, they'd leave the hotel and go to his parents' home in Vaxholm. They would spend Christmas with them instead. He had to experience what life without Annika might look like. He had to prepare, or he'd go to pieces. He tried to imagine how he'd react if they told him that she was dead. He couldn't. The only thing that would remain would be a bottomless black hole. He'd have to go on, for the children, for Annika. They would have pictures of Mommy everywhere. They would often talk about her and celebrate her birthdays…

He turned away from the window and began crying again.

"Why are you sad, Daddy?"

Kalle was standing in the bedroom door. Thomas quickly composed himself.

"I'm sad because Mommy isn't here. I miss her, that's all."

"Grown-ups get sad too sometimes," Kalle said.

Thomas went up to the boy and took him in his arms.

"Yes, and we cry when things are hard. But do you know what? You should get some more sleep. Do you know what day it is today?"

"Christmas!" the boy shouted.