Peter Stjernström - The Best Book in the World

The person who spread it most and best of all was that slimmed-down Håkan Rink, who presided over press conferences and theorised about his offender profiles. It was repulsive. Repulsively delightful.

The days pass in the sign of mass murder. Titus has full sail. He is relaxed and writes at a furious pace.

Better to be obsessed than dependent.

Serial Salvador hangs people up on crutches.

Chief Inspector Håkan Rink is right on his tail.

Sometimes Titus has to take a rest from his writing. Not because he wants to, but because the computer turns itself off at regular intervals. Astra has decided that Titus must rest now and then. Besides, he must stay sober as he has to use the BAC lock every time he wants to start working again.

Yes, Astra is a wise editor. The alcohol lock ensures that Titus slaves away at the computer when it is turned on. Each session lasts for exactly six hours. When the computer turns itself off, he can’t start it up again for two hours. As if out of respect for the computer and its sleep mode, Titus always puts the lid down and says ‘Sleep tight!’ During the breaks Titus manages to eat, rest and communicate with the outside world. He turns his mobile on and checks whether he has any messages. He rarely does.

Today the fridge is desolate. A half-eaten pizza tries to make itself look interesting through its transparent and greasy plastic container. It is unsuccessful. Titus sighs deeply and looks at the clock. Yes, he’s just got time to get down to the shop if he hurries.

Then the telephone rings. He answers angrily:

‘Yes? Titus Jensen here.’

‘Hello, Titus. This is Fabian Nadersson! Can you spare a minute?’

‘Hello… er, no, I’m just about to go shopping. What is it about? Wasn’t it you who tried to sell Mensa courses to me a while back?’

‘That’s right, Titus! We had a really nice offer there.’

‘Fabian Nadersson… what sort of name is that actually?’

‘It’s my name, Titus.’

‘But I mean Nadersson. Never heard it before.’

‘Exactly. I used to be called Andersson. Now I’m called Nadersson. A bit more personal. I feel very comfortable with it. That’s how it is, Titus. Can I tell you what is on my mind today?’

‘Do I have any choice?’

‘Haha. Of course you do, Titus. Obviously you have a choice. Today I’m phoning on behalf of the Multi-therapy Association.’

‘What did you say it was called? Multivitamin Association?’

‘Multi-therapy, Titus. Multi-therapy Association.’

‘And what on earth is that?’

‘Well, thank you for asking, Titus. I’ll tell you. The Multi-therapy Association offers solutions for motor-skill and mental blocks. The pedagogy assumes that all problems can be solved. Does that sound good?’

‘Good? It sounds ridiculous. What do you mean “all problems can be solved”? Can they go and do my shopping, the people in this association? I need milk and bread. And eggs. And quick as hell.’

‘Haha, nice one. No, multi-therapy is a form of treatment that deals with – for example – obsessive-compulsive disorder. What I can offer is an open house at a multi-therapist near you. On Saturday, the association has open house across the country. It is free to get information, and if you want you can then buy a test consultation which costs only four hundred and ninety-nine kronor for the first hour. Since you live in Stockholm, I can warmly recommend a visit to Dr Rolf on Valhallavägen. He has a very good reputation.’

‘What, is it free?’

‘Yes, the actual information is free. And the first hour is at the giveaway price of four hundred and ninety-nine kronor, as I said. Does that sound interesting?’

‘What do you mean? You don’t want to sell me anything, here and now?’

‘This conversation is a part of a national telemarketing campaign that the Multi-therapy Association is carrying out. You don’t need to buy anything. Shall I book you in for a free session now on Saturday? Shall we say at 10 o’clock at Valhallavägen 1?’

‘I’m not sure about that. Are you certain it won’t cost anything?’

‘Not an öre. Thank you, Titus, then that’s settled. You are booked in to see Dr Rolf on Saturday at 10 o’clock, Valhallavägen 1. Good luck!’

Titus shakes his head. Multi-therapy sounds New Age. If there’s anything that Titus dislikes, then it is incense and new spiritual things. At the same time, it will do him no harm to leave the flat for a couple of hours and gather some new impressions. He knows, too, that spiritual things sell like hotcakes, regardless of whether they are new or old. Who knows, perhaps he can get some ideas that Håkan Rink can use in his hunt for Serial Salvador. A good chief inspector must be an expert on relationships and therapy, he has always thought that. Now he’ll have the chance to learn some more.

The view of the Old Town and Riddarfjärden bay is enchanting. The grey-toned glass from floor to ceiling lets you see both the blue water of Lake Mälaren and the cumulus clouds over the parliament building. Of course there aren’t any curtains or furniture to obscure the view of the beautiful summer day. There is a gigantic walnut desk and a lime green suite from Italy in the room – that is all. On the desk is a chalk-white laptop on a large leather writing pad in the same shade as the sofas. Otherwise, the desk is empty, except for a large flat screen with a white frame. Although this is a room at a publishing house, there isn’t a single bookshelf in it. That is most unusual. Most of the other rooms at Winchester’s are packed from floor to ceiling with books, manuscripts, newspapers and catalogues.

Astra Larsson sits on the sofa in Evita Winchester’s room and waits for Evita to finish talking on the telephone. It is irritating that Evita never turns her phone off when they have a meeting. Evita is always available and her contact network is red-hot.

Evita Winchester has had a unique career. During the twenty-five years she has been working, she has done a stint as an arts reporter for Dagbladet, been editor-in-chief in Swedish Radio’s Culture Hour, head of the arts section at the Evening Post and director of programmes at Swedish TV. It was, of course, always on the cards that she would eventually end up as boss of the family’s own publishing house, but she has always emphasised over the years how important it is that all the companies in the group are run on a commercial basis and not by nepotism. And nobody thinks Evita Winchester got the job just because she’s called Winchester. In just a few years, she has made Winchester’s the most profitable publishing house in Sweden. She herself is most proud of having realised at an early stage just how important it was to control the new distribution channels. With the help of lots of money and skilful manoeuvring, Winchester’s now owns large segments of the electronic book trade and the distribution companies that have long-term contracts to supply books to the major retail and supermarket chains.

Evita is one of those people it is impossible find irritating once you meet them. All grudges and bother are forgotten as soon as you see her face to face. Those green eyes are lively, and her lips – always just as red – seem to move at the speed of light. Her energy and presence are extremely contagious. As soon as Evita puts down the phone, Astra feels her mood improving.

‘Sorry, Astra! I had to take that call,’ says Evita and runs her fingers through her short jet-black hair. She sits on the sofa beside Astra.