The Bomber Read Online Free PDF Page B

already sold the picture to Reuters. TV2's Rapport quoted Kvällspressen, while the radio news program Eko pretended the story was theirs.
     
     
When the city edition had gone to press, the crime reporters and news editors gathered in Annika's office. Boxes with her ring binders and files with cuttings of her old articles were still piled up in the corners. The couch had been inherited, but the desk was new. For two months now Annika had been crime editor; the office had been hers for as long.
     
     
"There are of course a number of things we have to go through and parcel out among ourselves," she said, putting her feet on the desk. Tiredness had hit like a rock to the back of the head when the paper went to press and she came to a halt. She leaned back and reached for her coffee mug.
     
     
"One: who is the corpse on the stand? Tomorrow's major splash, which could become several. Two: the hunt for the killer. Three: the Olympic angle. Four: How could it happen? Five: the taxi driver; no one has talked to him yet. Maybe he saw or heard something."
     
     
She looked up at the people in the room, reading their reactions to what she had said. Jansson was half asleep; he was going home soon. The news editor Ingvar Johansson looked at her with an expressionless face. The reporter Nils Langeby, the oldest on the crime desk at 53, was, as usual, unable to hide his hostility toward her. The reporter Patrik Nilsson was listening attentively, not to say rapturously. The third reporter, Berit Hamrin, calmly paid attention. The only one not there from the crime desk was the combined secretary and research assistant, Eva-Britt Qvist.
     
     
"I think the way we approach these things is disgusting," Nils said.
     
     
Annika sighed. Here we go again. "What approach would you suggest?"
     
     
"We're far too focused on this type of sensationalist violence. What about all the environmental crime we never write about? Or crime in schools."
     
     
"It's true that we should improve our coverage of that type of…"
     
     
"We damned well should! This desk is sinking into a shit hole of women's sob stories and bombs and biker wars."
     
     
Annika drew a deep breath and counted to three before replying. "You've brought up an important point, Nils, but this is maybe not the right time to discuss it…"
     
     
"Why not? Am I incapable of determining when I can raise a subject for discussion?" He raised himself up in the chair.
     
     
"Environmental and school crime is your beat, Nils," Annika said calmly. "You work full time on those two issues. Do you feel we're tearing you away from your patch when we pull you in on a day like this?"
     
     
"Yes, I do!" the man roared.
     
     
She looked at the furious man in front of her. How the hell was she going to deal with this? If she didn't call him in, he'd be pissed off for not having a part in the Bomber story. If she did give him an assignment, he'd first refuse and then screw it up. But if she kept him on standby, he'd argue that he was being cold-shouldered.
     
     
She was interrupted when the editor-in-chief, Anders Schyman, walked in the room. Everybody, including Annika, said hello and sat up straighter in their chairs.
     
     
"Congratulations, Annika! And thanks, Jansson, for a great job this morning," the editor said. "We beat the others. Outstanding! The center-spread picture was fantastic, and we were the only ones to have it. How did you do it, Annika?" He sat down on a box in the corner.
     
     
Annika told the story. She got some applause, cheers even. Standing on the Olympic flame and all! This would be a classic at the Press Club.
     
     
"What are we doing now?"
     
     
Annika put her feet on the floor and leaned over the desk, ticking off items on a list while talking. "Patrik, you take the hunt for the murderer, the forensic evidence, and all contacts with the officers on duty and the people in charge of the investigation. It's likely they'll hold a press conference this