Authors: Liza Marklund
Tags: #Fiction, #Thrillers, #Crime, #Media Tie-In, #Suspense
He’s wrong, and now he’s given me an ultimatum.
We make our announcement in three weeks’ time, and if Medi-Tec’s researchers aren’t honored, I’m going to die.
Spectacularly, he says. Like the cat.
But now this is about Alfred,
Alfred Bernhard Nobel’s last will and testament,
and thank goodness that there are things that are bigger than all of us.
Annika stared at the screen when she had finished reading, feeling dizzy and sick. She had the same feeling as when she had woken up a short while ago, that she didn’t know how much time had passed since she started reading.
Bernhard Thorell.
Was he at the seminar on Saturday?
He must have been.
How much would the Nobel Prize for Medicine be worth to Medi-Tec?
She reached for the phone again and called Birgitta Larsén.
“I’ve found Caroline’s archive,” Annika said, before the professor had time to say anything. “She’s written all about her deception, and about the person who was threatening her. Please, Birgitta, tell me what happened on Saturday …”
“Who was it?” Birgitta Larsén said. “Who was threatening her?”
“Tell me what happened on Saturday and I’ll forward Caroline’s email to you.”
“No! It’s not up to you to make the decisions here!”
Annika didn’t answer, just stared at the last line of Caroline’s text:
But now this is about Alfred, Alfred Bernhard Nobel’s last will and testament, and thank goodness that there are things that are bigger than all of us.
“Okay,” Annika said. “You decide. Either I hang up or you tell me exactly what happened on Saturday afternoon.”
“It’s confidential,” Birgitta Larsén said.
“Oh well,” Annika said, and hung up.
She sat quietly on her chair, listening to the sounds in her head, and wondering how long it would be before Birgitta dug out her phone number and called back.
One minute and twenty seconds.
“I was the one Carrie told about her archive,” the professor said, sounding both hurt and angry. “How can you do this?”
“Everything,” Annika said. “From the meeting of the Nobel Committee to the seminar and the buffet. All the background information I need to work out what happened. When you’ve finished, I’ll forward the email to you.”
Birgitta Larsén groaned loudly and demonstratively.
“I can’t just tell you who said what on Saturday,” she said. “It’s considerably more complicated than that.”
“I’m all ears,” Annika said.
Another groan.
“Okay, then,” Birgitta Larsén said. “This is what happened.”
She thought in silence for several long seconds.
“Everything to do with the nominations for the Nobel Prize is only made public after fifty years,” she said. “The names of the people nominated, which experts were consulted and what they said.”
“Okay,” Annika said.
“The Nobel Committee consists of six people: the chairperson, the vice-chairperson, three members, and the secretary of the Nobel Assembly.”
“I presume this is relevant,” Annika said.
“You’ll have to be patient,” Birgitta Larsén said, “because what I’m about to tell you ought to be kept confidential for another forty-nine years. What happened last year was that Caroline refused to sign the nomination papers identifying Medi-Tec’s researchers as potential recipients of the prize. None of the other five could understand why, but she refused point-blank.”
Annika felt her pulse begin to race.
“What had Medi-Tec done to deserve nomination?”
“I told you, they found a way to inhibit dystrophy in axons.”
“Ah yes,” Annika said. “The wellspring of life. How much would it have been worth to them, if they had been awarded the Nobel Prize for that particular discovery?”
“A Nobel Prize? In monetary terms? To Medi-Tec?”
She pondered.
“It’s funny you should ask that, because Ernst had actually worked it out. He was the one at the Institute who knew about things like that. The recognition and marketing that the prize would have given to what you call
the wellspring of life
would have been worth at least fifty billion dollars, he worked out, maybe double that.”
Fifty
billion
dollars.
Three hundred and fifty
billion kronor,
Annika thought. Did that much money even exist?
“From a purely objective point of view, Medi-Tec should have been listed in the preliminary report,” Birgitta Larsén said. “But Caroline was adamant. She said she’d resign if Sören carried on pressing their claim.”
“Did you see this for yourself?”
“Of course I didn’t—I wasn’t elected to the Committee until this year. Carrie told me.”
“And last Saturday?”
“A similar situation, oddly enough, seeing as Medi-Tec have been proposed again this year, and by the same person, Sören Hammarsten.
Ernst dug his heels in from the outset and refused to put them on the list. Sören was furious, said it was corrupt and underhand. Ernst blew up and called Sören an indentured lackey. Well, you can imagine what it was like. The other members had candidates they wanted to promote, or get rid of, so it all got a bit rowdy.”
“And then… ?”
“After the meeting the Committee went down to listen to the seminar. Most of us went on to the buffet. Lars-Henry, who was there last year but who had been excluded now, turned up at the seminar. We couldn’t stop him, seeing as it was open to all members of staff.”
“And he started shouting during the seminar?”
“He kept quiet during the lecture itself, then he went out and started helping himself to the wine. We provide a buffet and a glass of red for each participant, but after that they have to pay. Nobel’s money is supposed to fund the prize, not drinks parties out on the Institute’s lawns.”
“And?” Annika said.
“Oh, he ended up having several heated discussions during the course of the evening—they got quite noisy.”
“Did Lars-Henry say anything to Bernhard Thorell?”
“Yes, he had a go at him and shouted a whole lot of …”
“Anything personal, anything specific?”
“He said he knew what sort of person Bernhard was, that he’d do anything to get his hands on a Nobel Prize. Then he said Bernhard should watch out, that he wouldn’t get away with it, because Lars-Henry knew what he had done with the test animals, Caroline had told him about the cat, she saw him, and had said he was evil incarnate …”
“He said that?” Annika said. “That Caroline told him about the cat?”
“Lars-Henry was very close to Caroline,” Birgitta Larsén said, with a certain degree of irritation. “He wasn’t like this before she died. She probably told him loads of things that …”
“Could Bernhard have found out that Ernst stopped Medi-Tec being included in the report?” Annika asked.
“No,” Birgitta Larsén said, “you’re straying a long way from the facts there.”
“Birgitta,” Annika said, “could Bernhard have gotten any inside information
about what was said in the meeting? Is there any way at all? Could someone have talked?”
Birgitta Larsén was quiet for several seconds.
“He spent a long time talking to Sören,” she said, “but Sören would never …”
“Have you got access to your email? You’ll be getting a message from Caroline in a few seconds.”
“I’ve got my in-box open on the screen in front of me.”
Annika sent off the text marked
Alfred Bernhard
to the professor’s address at the Karolinska Institute.
“Ah, there it is,” Birgitta Larsén said. “Do you want me to read it?”
“I’ll wait on the line,” Annika said.
“Literary ambitions,” the woman muttered.
“Carry on reading,” Annika said.
The professor’s breathing got heavier at the other end.
When she had finished she didn’t say anything.
“Have you said anything to Bernhard that might have made him feel angry and insecure?”
“What do you mean?” the professor asked in a hoarse voice.
“He knew which animals were yours,” Annika said, “Didn’t he? You showed them to him, and he killed them. What did you say to him?”
“Nothing, we just had a fairly general chat.”
“About ageing, about Medi-Tec’s research?”
“Amongst other things,” Birgitta said.
“If you read the email carefully,” Annika said quietly, “Caroline admits her deception. But she doesn’t mention your involvement. You’re in the clear. Do you want me to forward the text to the police?”
Birgitta Larsén wept quietly on the other end of the line.
“Yes,” she finally whispered. “Do it.”
And Annika clicked to open the email again, then forwarded it to Q.
Annika picked up the children from nursery school with burning cheeks and trembling hands. She had a price to pay for throwing her weight around, and now might well be the time for her to get her wallet out.
The playground was empty, as a swing swayed in the breeze.
Lotta was sitting playing a game with Kalle and Ellen when she walked in. None of the other children were there.
“Hello darlings,” Annika said, hugging the children as they ran to meet her. “Are you the last ones here?”
“I think Linda’s in the dolls’ corner with some of the younger girls,” Lotta said with a smile. “A long day?”
Annika raised her eyebrows.
“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you,” she said.
“Ellen’s finished her bag,” Lotta said, getting up. “Do you want to take it home today, Ellen?”
The girl nodded.
“I’ll go and get it,” Lotta said, and headed off toward the sewing room.
Annika bent down toward Kalle and stroked the bandage on his forehead. It was a bit grubby.
“Did you have a nice time today?” she asked quietly.
The boy nodded.
“But Ben and Alex had to go home, and Alex wet himself.”
Annika could feel her cheeks burn.
“Goodness,” she said.
“We teased him about it,” Kalle said gleefully. “We called him pissypants!”
Annika took hold of him, slightly harder than she had intended.
“Kalle,” she said, “you mustn’t call Alexander that. Or anyone else either. You wouldn’t like to be called pissypants, would you?”
“But he was mean to me,” the boy said sullenly.
“I know, but you mustn’t be mean back,” she said, fully aware of her own gross hypocrisy.
“I’m hungry, Mommy,” Ellen said.
“Okay, let’s go home,” Annika said.
The children’s favorite television program had just started and Annika let them cuddle up on the sofa while she started the meal. She chopped some vegetables and a couple of turkey fillets, put a small pan of jasmine rice on to boil, and got out a tin of coconut milk, chili, fish sauce, and
some chopped coriander. She quickly laid the table with napkins and candles as the oil heated up in the wok.
She didn’t work
all
the time. She usually managed to be at home and prepare a meal, even when she was working full time.
She scampered around the kitchen nervously, trying to get everything done before Thomas got home, wiping the countertops and pressing the garbage down in the trash can.
He walked through the front door just as she was taking the wok off the heat.
“Hello,” she said in a small voice. “Perfect timing—the food’s ready just this minute.”
Thomas put his briefcase down by the door and went into the kitchen with his shoes on. He didn’t look at her, just went over to the freezer and took out two ice creams.
“What are you doing?” Annika said. “I’m just about to dish up.”
He turned his back on her without a word and went over to the children.
“Kalle, Ellen,” he said quietly, but she could still hear him, she could hear him perfectly clearly. “I want you to go up to your rooms for a little while. Here, you can each have an ice cream if you go upstairs while I have a little talk with Mommy.”
“But we’re not supposed to eat ice cream before dinner,” Ellen said.
“Today it’s allowed,” Thomas said, and Annika watched as the girl took the ice cream and carefully and laboriously tore the paper off it.
“Thanks, Daddy,” Kalle said, giving Thomas a quick hug before he ran off upstairs.
He stood facing away from Annika until the children, and Ludde and Poppy, had disappeared upstairs. She was standing frozen to the spot, holding the wok and the designer trivet, staring at his shoulders as he slowly turned around.
His eyes, oh God,
his eyes
. They’re bloodshot and narrow—he looks like a different person. Instinctively she took a step back, her heel hitting the breakfast bar.
“What is it?” she said. “What’s happened?”
He took a few steps toward her and now she could see it was sadness, he had a look of sadness in his eyes. Good God, what on earth had happened?
“What have you done?” he said in a hoarse voice.
“What?” she said.
Was it something to do with the children, with what she had said to Benjamin and Alexander?
He stopped in front of her, took the wok and trivet from her hands and put them on the granite countertop, spilling the coconut sauce.
“How long have you known?”
Oh no, not
that
.
“What?” she said.
“Sophia,” he said very quietly.
Her heart was pounding.
“Why haven’t you said anything?” he said, much louder now. He was clenching and unclenching his fists as though he were trying to get his blood flowing.
She turned away.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said.
“Stop lying to me!”
he shouted, grabbing her shoulder and making her spin around so hard she almost fell.
“Ow,” she said, looking up at his face, all red and distorted.
“How long have you been going around
pretending
?” he yelled. “How the hell could you
do
this to me?”
She felt anger explode in her gut with such force that she could hardly breathe.
“Me?”
she said hoarsely. “How could
I
do this to
you?
Are you mad, you fucking disgusting, unfaithful
bastard
?”