"How could she keep her job if people detested her that much?" Annika asked when the coffee man had gone.
"I've wondered about that too. Christina had been at her job for almost ten years when I got there. During that time they had changed managing director more than once, but Christina's name never came up. She was unassailable where she was, but she didn't get any higher."
"Why not?" Annika wondered.
"Don't know. The glass ceiling, perhaps. The board may have been afraid of what she might do if given more power. They must have seen what stuff she was made of." Evert Danielsson put a lump of sugar in his cup and Annika waited while he stirred his coffee.
"In the end, I think Christina understood she wasn't going to get any further. When the City of Stockholm decided to apply for the Olympic Summer Games, she made sure the bank went in as one of the main sponsors. I think she had her plan all laid out already then."
"Which was…?"
"Taking over the Games. She became deeply involved in the preparations. After some maneuvering, she was granted leave of absence from the bank and took over the application work as acting Olympic head. Her appointment wasn't particularly remarkable, even though she was an unknown entity in a semi-important position. The job paid poorly, much less than she got at the bank. That's why most of the business highfliers weren't interested in it. Nor was it an assignment that would propel you to the top after. Maybe you remember the initial disapproval of people and all the debates at the time? The Olympic Games weren't particularly popular with a lot of people. It was really Christina who turned public opinion around."
"Everyone says she did a fantastic job," Annika interjected.
"Oh, yes," Evert Danielsson said, pulling a wry face. "She was very skilled at lobbying and at hiding the cost of such exercises under various budgets. The swing in Swedish opinion concerning the Olympics is the most expensive PR campaign ever mounted in this country."
"I've never read anything about that," Annika said, unconvinced.
"Of course not. Christina would never have allowed facts like that to come out."
Annika made some notes and contemplated the information.
"When did you enter the picture?"
Evert Danielsson smiled. "You're wondering whether I can bear this out, and just how dirty
my
hands are? They're not clean. I stayed on at the bank when Christina transferred to the Olympic campaign and was given some of her tasks. They were mostly minor matters of an administrative nature. My job at the Secretariat came about through chance."
He leaned back in his chair, seeming more at ease.
"Once Christina had landed the Games, the situation changed dramatically. The post as MD of SOCOG became a lot more prestigious. Everyone agreed it should go to a competent person with extensive experience from the private sector."
"There were several possibles, weren't there? All men," Annika said.
"Yes, but mainly one man who at the time was director-general of one of our largest government departments."
Annika searched her memory and saw the man's pleasant face.
"Right— he pulled out for personal reasons and was appointed Governor of Stockholm County instead, is that right?"
Evert Danielsson gave a smile. "Yes, exactly. Those 'personal reasons' were a bill from a Berlin brothel, which ended up on my desk just after Stockholm was given the Games."
Annika looked up in surprise. The former head of the Secretariat was happy now.
"I don't know exactly how she did it, but Christina learned that this man had taken several colleagues to a brothel at the time of a Socialist convention in Germany. She dug out the credit card bill, which was paid for with taxpayers' money, and that was it for him."
"How? And how did you get hold of it?"
Evert Danielsson pushed aside his cup and leaned forward over the table.
"Once the Games were in the bag, Christina was supposed to return to her job at the bank. The Swedish IOC saw to it that her mail was forwarded to us again. Since I already had been dealing with some of her stuff, it seemed natural for me to take care of the bills that came in."
"Did you really have the authority to open her mail?" Annika asked in a silky voice.
The smile stiffened on the man's face.
"I'm not pretending I'm snow white," he retorted. "I forwarded the original bill to Christina without any comment, but I made sure to make a photocopy of it. The day after, the prospective MD of SOCOG announced that it wasn't his intention to accept the post. Moreover, he recommended that Christina Furhage get the job. And that's what happened."
"Where do you enter the picture?"
Evert Danielsson leaned back and sighed.
"By then I was thoroughly fed up with my job at the bank. The management had clearly shown what they thought of me by leaving me to deal with Christina's menial tasks. There was no future for me there. So I showed Christina the copy of that bill and said I wanted a job at the Secretariat, a good job. It only took a month before I started my duties as head of the Secretariat."
Annika bowed her head and contemplated the new information. It was possible. If the director-general had visited a brothel with some other men after an international Socialist convention, it wasn't only his head on the block. The other people involved would be influential social democrats, and their careers would be at stake as well. They could have been local or national politicians, high civil servants, or union officials. Whoever they were, they would have a lot to lose from being exposed. They could be fired or prosecuted for fraud or breach of trust. The families of these men would suffer, and their marriages would be ruined. For the director-general, it would have been an easy choice between relinquishing the Olympic job or having everything blown sky-high.
"Do you still have your copy of that bill?" Annika asked.
Evert Danielsson shrugged. "Sorry. I had to give it to Christina in exchange for getting the job."
Annika contemplated the man in front of her. Perhaps he was telling the truth. The story made sense and did not give a particularly flattering picture of himself. Then she suddenly remembered seeing the director-general recently in some picture, his nice, smiling face next to Christina Furhage's.
"Isn't the director-general on the board?" she said.
Evert Danielsson nodded. "Yes, but he's the Stockholm County Governor nowadays."
Annika felt ill at ease. Evert Danielsson could be out for revenge. He could be trying to con her. For Christina, as he himself had said, it didn't matter anymore. But he could still do harm to the members of the board that had fired him. She decided to continue the conversation and see where it took them.
"How did Christina perform in the job?" she asked.
"Brilliantly, of course. She knew all the stratagems. She was well in with some of the weightiest IOC members. I don't know exactly how she did it, but she had a serious hold on several of them. Sex, money, or drugs. Maybe all of them. Christina never left a single thing to chance."
Annika took notes, trying to keep a straight face.
"Earlier you hinted that she had many enemies."
Evert Danielsson let out a short, dry laugh.
"Oh, yes," he said. "I can think of a whole series of people, starting from her time at the bank and onwards. People who'd like to see her dead and cut up to pieces. Any man who tried being macho in her presence she'd humiliate to the point of him breaking down in public. Sometimes I think she got a kick from it."
"Didn't she like men?"
"She didn't like people at all, but she preferred women. At least in bed."
Annika blinked. "What makes you think that?"
"She had a relationship with Helena Starke. I can stake my life on it."
"But you don't know for sure?"
The man looked at Annika.
"You can tell when people are sexually involved. They move into each other's personal space, they stand a bit too close, their hands touch at work. Little things, but decisive."
"But she didn't like all women?"
"Not at all. She hated coquettish women. She would pull them to pieces, scrap everything they did, and bully them into resigning. Sometimes I think she enjoyed firing people in public. One of the nastiest ones was this young woman, Beata Ekesjö. In front of a whole group of people…"
Annika's eyes were now wide open.
"Really. So what did Ekesjö think of Christina?"
"She hated her. Absolutely and utterly," Evert Danielsson said, and Annika felt the hair on her neck rising. Now she knew the man was lying. Only yesterday Beata Ekesjö had told her how much she admired Christina Furhage. Christina was her role model and her death had left her brokenhearted. There was no doubt about that. Evert Danielsson had shot himself in the foot. He couldn't know that Annika knew who Beata Ekesjö was.
It was half past eleven and the restaurant was beginning to fill up with lunch guests. Evert Danielsson fidgeted and looked around. People from the Secretariat would come here for lunch. He obviously wasn't keen on being seen talking to a journalist. Annika decided to go for the last, decisive questions.
"So who do you think killed Christina, and why?"
Evert Danielsson licked his lips and grabbed the tabletop again.
"I don't know who could've done it. I really haven't the faintest idea. But it must have been someone who hated her. You don't blow up half a stadium unless you're seriously angry."
"Are you aware of any links between Christina Furhage and Stefan Bjurling?"
Evert Danielsson looked nonplussed.
"Who is Stefan Bjurling?"
"The second victim. He worked for one of your subcontractors, Building&Plumbing."
"Oh, Building&Plumbing is one of our best subcontractors. They've had a finger in more or less every building project that SOCOG has been involved in over the past seven years. Was it one of their guys that died?"
"Don't you read the papers?" Annika wondered. "He was a foreman, thirty-nine years old. Ash-blond hair, sturdy guy…"
"Oh, him," Evert Danielsson said. "Yes, I know who he is, Steffe. He is…
was
a real nasty piece of work."
"His workmates said he was a nice guy. A cheerful man."
Evert Danielsson gave a laugh. "The things people will say about the dead!"
"Is there a connection between him and Christina Furhage?" Annika persisted.
The former head of the Secretariat pursed his lips and gave it some thought. His eyes traveled over a group of people entering the restaurant. He momentarily stiffened but then relaxed again. No one he knew.
"Yes, there is, actually. I mean, not so much of a connection. Probably more of a coincidence," he said.
Annika waited, not turning a hair.
"Christina sat next to Stefan at that big Christmas dinner last week. They sat there talking until long after people had left their tables."
"Was that at the Basque restaurant?"
"No, that was the Secretariat's Christmas dinner. This was at the big Olympic do for all the functionaries, voluntary workers, and subcontractors' employees… We won't be throwing a party like that again until after the Games are over."
"So Christina Furhage and Stefan Bjurling knew one another?" Annika said in surprise.
Evert Danielsson's expression suddenly darkened. He remembered that he no longer could say "we" and that he probably wouldn't be attending any more Olympic parties.
"Well, it seemed like it. They sat there talking most of the evening. But I really think I have to…"
"How come Stefan Bjurling was seated next to the MD?" Annika asked rapidly. "Why wasn't she sitting next to the chairman of the board or some other big shot?"
Evert Danielsson gave her an annoyed look. "They weren't there. This was a party for the foot soldiers. It was very grand, though. Christina chose the place:
Blå Hallen
, the banqueting hall at the Stockholm City Hall."
He stood up, pushing at the chair with his legs.
"What do you think they talked about?"
"I haven't got the faintest idea. Look, I really have to go now."
Annika got to her feet, too, collected her stuff, and shook hands with the ex-head of the Olympic Secretariat.
"Give me a call if there's anything you want to add," she said.
He nodded and hurried out of the restaurant.
Instead of taking a right by the exit, Annika went down one floor to Anne Snapphane's office. Anne was on Christmas leave, Annika was told. Nice for her. The receptionist called a taxi for Annika.
