He had one thing in mind. He had walked straight down to Germaniaviken and followed the shore all the way to the Foreign Ministers villa.
He was too drunk to care about any alarms or security cameras. Driven on by a very clear sense of justice, he clambered over the fence, walked right across the grass and up onto the deck. Anyone could have seen him there. The Foreign Ministers wife could have been standing at the window, or a neighbour could have driven past. Rex didnt care. One thought was running through his mind: he had to piss in the Foreign Ministers floodlit swimming pool. It felt like the right thing to do at the time, and he smiled like a prize-fighter as his urine splashed into the turquoise water.
23
Rex ignores the taxi thats waiting outside the TV4 building and starts walking instead. He needs space to breathe, needs to collect his thoughts.
A few months ago he would have calmed his nerves with a large glass of whisky, followed by another three.
Now he walks along beside the busy Lidingövägen instead, and is trying to figure out what the cost of his behaviour might be when DJ calls.
Did you see me?
Yes, really good, DJ says. You looked almost hungover for real.
Sylvia thought so too. She asked if Id been drinking.
Did she? I can come and swear that you only drank water yesterday... even if a fair bit of it was seawater.
I dont know... its just so ridiculous that I have to pretend to be an alcoholic so I dont lose my job.
But it cant be a bad idea for you to take it a bit
Stop that. I dont want to hear it, Rex interrupts.
I didnt mean it in a bad way, DJ says quietly.
Rex sighs and looks through the railing at the entrance to the big sports stadium that was built for the 1912 Olympics.
Have you heard that the Foreign Minister is dead? he asks.
Of course.
We had a complicated relationship, Rex says.
In what way?
I didnt like him, he replies, and walks through the stadium entrance and out onto the red track.
OK, but you shouldnt talk about that just after his death, DJ says calmly.
It isnt just that...
David Jordan says nothing as Rex admits what he did. He says that he had a little too much to drink three weeks ago and just happened to urinate in the Foreign Ministers swimming pool.
He concludes the confession by saying that he got all the garden gnomes and threw them into the pool as well.
Rex walks out onto the football field and stops at the centre circle.
The empty stands surround him. He remembers that some of the gnomes floated while others sank onto the bottom, surrounded by little air-bubbles.
OK, DJ says after a long silence. Does anyone else know what you did?
The security cameras.
If theres a scandal, the investors will pull out you know that. You do realise that, dont you?
What should I do? Rex asks pathetically.
Go to the funeral, DJ says slowly. Ill make sure you get invited. Talk about it on social media, say you lost your best friend. Talk about him and his political achievements with the greatest respect.
Thatll look bad if the security footage gets out, Rex says.
Yes, I know. But pre-empt it by getting in first and talking about your jokey relationship and the silly pranks you used to play on each other. Say that you sometimes went too far, but that was just what you were both like. Dont admit to anything specific, because with any luck the recording has already been deleted.
Thanks.
What did you have against the Foreign Minister, anyway? DJ asks with interest.
He was always a slippery bastard, and a bully. Im going to piss on his grave one last prank.
As long as no one films you, David Jordan laughs, and ends the conversation.
Sammy is sitting on the bed drying his hair with a towel when Rex walks into his hospital room.
Nice make-up, Dad, he says in a hoarse voice.
Oh, yeah, Rex says. I came straight from the studio.
He takes a step towards the bed. Chaotic images of the stomach pump and his own angst at the Foreign Ministers death fight for space in his head.
He reminds himself the only option right now is to stay calm, not to be judgemental.
How are you feeling? he asks tentatively.
OK, I guess, Sammy replies. My neck hurts. Like someone pushed a tube down my throat.
Ill make some soup when we get home, Rex says.
You just missed the doctor. Apparently I need to talk to a counsellor before Im allowed to leave.
Do you have an appointment?
Shes coming at one oclock.
I have time to see DJ before then, Rex says when he realises that he has an AA meeting in half an hour. But Ill come straight back after that... we can get a taxi home.
Thanks.
Sammy, we need to talk.
OK, his son says, clamming up instantly.
I dont ever want to have to go through this again, Rex begins.
It cant have been much fun, Sammy says, turning his head away.
No, Rex replies.
Dads a celebrity, Sammy says with a crooked smile. Dads a superstar TV chef, and he doesnt want a failure for a son, a faggot who wears make-up and...
I dont give a damn about that, Rex interrupts.
You dont have to put up with me for long, just a few weeks, his son says.
I hope we can still have a reasonable time together but you have to promise to try.
Sammy raises his eyebrows.
What? How am I supposed to try? Is this about Nico?
This isnt some kind of moral debate, Rex explains. I dont have an opinion, I believe that love just happens between people.
Whos talking about love? Sammy mutters.
Sex, then.
Did you love Mum? Sammy asks.
I dont know. I was very immature, Rex replies honestly. But now, in hindsight, I can see that she was the person I should have stayed with... I would have liked to have lived my life with the two of you.
Look, Dad, Im nineteen years old. I dont get it. What do you want from me?
No more stomach pumps, for a start.
Sammy gets slowly to his feet and goes to hang the towel up.
I thought Nico was counting the pills he was giving me, he says when he comes back. But there were too many.
Count for yourself in the future.
Im weak-willed. And its actually OK for me to be weak, he replies quickly.
Then you wont make it. Theres no place for weakness in this world.
OK, Dad.
Sammy, its not like Im making this up thats just the way it is.
His son is leaning against the doorframe with his arms folded. His cheeks are flushed and he swallows hard.
Promise me you wont do anything dangerous, Rex says.
Why not? Sammy whispers.
24
No terrorist organisation has claimed responsibility for the murder, but the Security Police dont think thats strange given the specific nature of the attack. The underlying reason for shooting the Foreign Minister is to frighten a small group of high-ranking politicians rather than terrify the general population.
On Sunday they continue evaluating the forensic evidence and the thousands of lab results. Everything points to the fact that theyre dealing with a highly professional killer. He didnt leave any fingerprints or biological evidence, he didnt leave any bullets or cartridges, and he doesnt appear in any security-camera footage.
They have several of his boot imprints, but theyre a type that are sold all over the world, and analysis of the dirt on them hasnt come up with anything.
Saga is sitting with Janus, whos the head of the investigation, and a few colleagues in one of the conference rooms of the Security Police Headquarters. Janus is wearing a pale green, tie-dye T-shirt. His almost white eyebrows take on a pinkish tone when he gets agitated.
They have several of his boot imprints, but theyre a type that are sold all over the world, and analysis of the dirt on them hasnt come up with anything.
Saga is sitting with Janus, whos the head of the investigation, and a few colleagues in one of the conference rooms of the Security Police Headquarters. Janus is wearing a pale green, tie-dye T-shirt. His almost white eyebrows take on a pinkish tone when he gets agitated.
Security around government buildings has been tightened and key individuals have more bodyguards, but theyre all aware that this might not be enough.
Stress levels in the conference room are high.
Salim has been isolated at Hall Prison in preparation for his transfer to Joonas unit. No one believes that isolating him will prevent more murders, because even if he cant give any further orders its possible that the first three have already been arranged.
Right now almost all of their hopes are pinned on Joona gaining his confidence inside the prison. If he fails, their only real option is to wait and see what happens on Wednesday.
Were dealing with a meticulous killer. He doesnt make any mistakes, doesnt get carried away, doesnt get scared, one of the men says.
Then he shouldnt have left a witness alive, Saga says.
This is all assuming he isnt just a pimp who thought the Foreign Minister had gone too far this time, Janus smiles, blowing his red hair away from his face.
Jeanette and Saga have conducted three more interviews with the witness, but nothing new has emerged. Shes sticking to her story, and theres nothing to suggest that shes lying. But they havent been able to verify the fact that shes a prostitute.
No one else in the business knows Sofia, but the investigators have managed to trace Tamara Jensen, who now appears to be the only person who might be able to confirm her story.
Tamaras number was in Sofias mobile phone, and by using three base-stations to trace her phone theyve managed to identify an exact location: Tamaras movements are restricted to a small area just southwest of Nyköping.
She isnt married, and she hasnt moved to Gothenburg, as Sofia claimed.
Shes still advertising on a website that says it offers an exclusive escort service in the Stockholm area. The photograph shows a woman in her mid-twenties, with lively eyes and shiny hair. Her presentation promises cultured company for social events and trips, nights and weekend packages.
Saga is navigating while Jeanette drives the dark grey BMW. The two women always enjoy each others company even though theyre very different in both personality and appearance. Jeanettes hair is held in place by a silver clasp, and shes wearing a light grey skirt and white jacket, thick tights and pumps with a low heel.
Theyre talking and eating liquorice from a bag in the centre console.