Beata paused for a moment to drink some Coke. Annika felt like she was about to faint.
"Unfortunately, that's not how it happened," Beata said quietly. "But the truth has to be told. I'm not trying to be a hero. I know that there'll be people who'll think I've done wrong. That's why it's important not to lie. You have to write it as it really was. Not glamorize it."
Annika nodded sincerely.
"Everything went wrong. Hitting Christina with a hammer didn't knock her out; it only made her mad as hell. She started screaming like a madwoman that I was an incompetent lunatic and that I should leave her alone. I kept hitting her with my hammer. One blow hit her on the mouth and some of her teeth flew out. She screamed and screamed, and I hit and hit. The hammer was dancing on her face. There's a lot of blood in a person's eyes. I didn't know that. In the end she fell down, and it wasn't a pretty sight. She went on screaming, and to make sure she wouldn't get up again, I smashed her kneecaps in. I didn't enjoy it. It was hard work and difficult to do. You understand that, don't you? She wouldn't stop screaming, so I hit her on the throat. When I tried dragging her up to the stand, she scratched my hands. I had to hit her on the elbows and the fingers, too. Then I started the long climb up on the stand, up to the place where she'd stood that day she crushed me. I started sweating. She was quite heavy, and she wouldn't stop moaning. By the time I reached my treasure, my arms were shaking. I put her between the seats and started tying the explosives to her with the masking tape.
"But Christina didn't understand it was time to give up. Her role was to be the audience. She squirmed like the worm she was, and got out on the steps next to her. She started rolling down the stands, screaming all the while. I started losing control of my work; it was terrible. I went and got hold of her and hit her on the back a few times. I don't know if I broke it. In the end, she was lying still enough for me to tie the sausages on her. Fifteen in all. There was no time for forgiveness or reflection. I just pushed the metal piece into one of the sausages and ran over to the battery. The timer was set for five minutes, but I turned it down to three. Christina was still whimpering; she didn't sound human. She sounded like the monster she was. I stood at the entrance, listening to her song of death. When only thirty seconds remained, she managed to get two of the charges loose, despite her smashed-up limbs. That shows her strength, don't you think? Unfortunately, I couldn't stay to the end. I missed her last seconds because I had to take cover in my cave. I was halfway down the stairs when the shockwave hit me. I was amazed. I think I'd underestimated the power of the explosive. The damage was enormous. The whole North Stand was destroyed. That wasn't my intention, you understand that, don't you? I didn't want to damage the stadium. What had happened was none of the building's doing…"
Annika felt her tears rolling. She had never written anything so appalling in her life. She was close to passing out. She'd been sitting on the stool for several hours. Her legs ached so badly she wanted to scream out. The charge on her back was heavy. She was so tired she just wanted to lie down, even if it meant setting off the charge and dying.
"Why are you crying?" Beata said suspiciously.
Annika breathed for a second before she replied: "Because it got so difficult for you. Why couldn't she have let you do it the right way?"
Beata nodded and also wiped away a tear. "I know," she said. "Life's never fair."
"It was easier with Stefan. That went more or less according to my plans. I made him responsible for finishing off the judges' changing rooms before the Christmas holidays. The choice of location was simple. That's where I first met Stefan and where he told me that the workers in Sätra Hall would all freeze me out. I knew he would do the work himself. Stefan played the horses and took every opportunity to put in some overtime. He saw to it that he was the only one left at the site, and then he bumped up his hours on his time sheet. This must have been going on for years. No one ever checked up on him since he was a foreman. Besides, he was a fast worker when he wanted to be and pretty sloppy, too.
"Last Monday, I went to work as usual. Everyone was talking about the blowing up of Christina Furhage, but no one said anything to me. I hadn't expected them to either.
"In the evening, I stayed on in the office with my papers. When the hall was quiet, I took a stroll and saw that Stefan Bjurling was working in the changing rooms at the far end. I went to my locker and got out my gym bag. Inside it were my treasures: the peppermint rocks, the yellow and green wires, the masking tape, and the small timer. This time I didn't bring a hammer; it had been far too messy. Instead I'd bought a rope, the kind you use for children's swings and similar. The rope around your neck is from the same roll. While Stefan was drilling into the far wall, I walked in, put the rope around his neck and pulled. Hard. This time I was more determined. I would not tolerate any screaming or fighting. Stefan Bjurling dropped the drill and tumbled backwards. I was ready for it and used his fall to pull the noose even tighter. He lost consciousness and I struggled to get him onto the chair standing nearby. I tied him to it and dressed him for his funeral. Peppermint rocks, fuse, timer, and flashlight battery. I fastened it all to his back and waited patiently for him to come around.
"He didn't say anything, but I saw that his eyelids were twitching. I explained to him what was going to happen and why. The reign of Evil on Earth was coming to an end. He was going to die because he was a monster. I explained to him that more people would go his way. I have many more treasures in my box. Then I set the timer for five minutes and walked back to my office. On my way, I made sure that all doors were unlocked. The Bomber would have had no problem getting inside the building. I pretended to be shocked by the explosion when I called the police. I lied to them and said someone else had done what was really my work. They took me to South Hospital and escorted me into the Accident and Emergency Department. They said they wanted to interview me the following day. I decided to go on lying for the time being. The time wasn't yet ripe for the truth. It is now.
"The doctors examined me, I assured them I was just fine, and then I walked through the city, past Yttersta Tvärgränd and home. I realized it was time for me to leave my house for good. That night I slept in it for the last time. It was a brief and composed leave-taking. I already knew then that I would never return. My wanderings will end elsewhere.
"Early Tuesday morning, I went to work to collect my last belongings. When I entered Sätra Hall, I was met by the instant and unfair censure of the building. I was overcome with a deep and heavy sadness, so I hid in a room where the building couldn't see me. In vain, naturally, because that's when you found me."
Annika felt she couldn't write any more. She put her hands on her lap and bowed her head.
"What is it?" Beata asked.
"I'm so tired," Annika said. "Can I stand up and move my legs? They've fallen asleep."
Beata looked at her in silence for a moment. "All right, then, but don't you try anything.
Annika slowly stood up; she had to lean against the wall not to fall over. She stretched and bent her legs as well as she could with the rattling chains. She glanced furtively at her feet and saw that Beata had used two small padlocks to fasten the chains. If only she could get hold of the keys somehow, she could get loose. It looked hopeless. She didn't even know where the keys were.
"Don't think you can get away," Beata said.
Annika looked up with feigned surprise. "Of course not," she said. "We haven't finished our work yet."
She moved the stool away from the table a bit to get more room for her legs.
"There's not much left now," Beata said.
She studied Annika, and Annika realized that she didn't know what to think.
"Do you want to read it?" she said and turned the computer so that the screen was facing Beata.
The woman didn't reply.
"It would be good if you could read it through to make sure I've got everything right. And you should size up my tone of voice. I haven't quoted you directly all the time, but have made your story a bit more literary," Annika said.
Beata studied Annika closely, then she walked up to the table and moved it closer to her.
"Could I rest for a while?" Annika wondered, and Beata nodded.
Annika lay down and turned her back to the Bomber. She needed to think about her next move.
Two years before, a man in his sixties had disappeared on the ice in the Stockholm archipelago. It was a sunny and warm late-winter day. The man had gone out walking and lost his way. For three days and nights the coast guard and the police had searched for him. Annika had been in the helicopter that finally saved him.
Suddenly, she knew exactly what she had to do.
* * *
Thomas got up from the bed. He wouldn't be able to get any more sleep. He went to the bathroom and peed. He went over to the living room window and stood staring at the Royal Palace again. The traffic had died down. The floodlit facades on the majestic neighboring buildings, the glimmering streetlights, the depth of the black water— the view really was stunning. Yet he felt he couldn't stand it for another second. He felt as if he'd lost Annika right here in this room. It was here that he'd realized that she might be gone forever.
He rubbed his dry, red eyes and heaved a deep sigh. He'd made up his mind. As soon as the children woke up, they'd leave the hotel and go to his parents' home in Vaxholm. They would spend Christmas with them instead. He had to experience what life without Annika might look like. He had to prepare, or he'd go to pieces. He tried to imagine how he'd react if they told him that she was dead. He couldn't. The only thing that would remain would be a bottomless black hole. He'd have to go on, for the children, for Annika. They would have pictures of Mommy everywhere. They would often talk about her and celebrate her birthdays…
He turned away from the window and began crying again.
"Why are you sad, Daddy?"
Kalle was standing in the bedroom door. Thomas quickly composed himself.
"I'm sad because Mommy isn't here. I miss her, that's all."
"Grown-ups get sad too sometimes," Kalle said.
Thomas went up to the boy and took him in his arms.
"Yes, and we cry when things are hard. But do you know what? You should get some more sleep. Do you know what day it is today?"
"Christmas!" the boy shouted.
"Shh, you'll wake up Ellen. Yes, it's Christmas, and Santa will come tonight. You'll have to be awake for that, so hurry back to bed now."
"I have to go to the toilet first," Kalle said, struggling free from Thomas's arms.
When the boy returned from the bathroom, he asked: "Why isn't Mommy coming?"
"She'll be here later," Thomas said without a moment's hesitation.
"It's Disney on TV today, and Mommy loves to watch that on Christmas Eve. Will she be back to watch it?"
"I'm sure she will," Thomas said and kissed the boy on his head. "Off you go to bed!"
Tucking the boy in under the fluffy duvet, his eyes landed on the clock-radio next to the bed. The digital red numbers colored the corner of the pillowcase pink. They were showing 5:49.
* * *
"This is good," Beata said contentedly. "It's exactly as I wanted it."
Annika had fallen into a light doze but immediately sat up when the Bomber started talking.
"I'm glad you think so. I've done my best."
"Yes, you really have. That's the nice thing about professionals," Beata said and smiled.
Annika returned the smile, and they sat smiling at each other until Annika decided it was time to implement her plan.
"Do you know what day it is today?" she said, still smiling.
"Christmas Eve, of course," Beata said and laughed. "Of course I know that!"
"Yes, but the time leading up to Christmas always flies past. I hardly ever manage to buy all the gifts in time. But do you know what— I've got something for you, Beata."
The woman instantly became suspicious. "You couldn't have bought a present for me. You don't know me."
Annika was smiling so hard that her jaws were beginning to ache.
"I do now. I bought the present for a friend, a woman who deserves it. But I think you deserve it more."
Beata didn't believe her. "Why would you give me a present? I'm the Bomber."
"It's not for the Bomber," Annika said in a steady voice. "It's for Beata, a girl who's had a really shitty time. I think you need a nice Christmas gift after all you've been through."
Her words were upsetting Beata's calculations, Annika could see that. The woman's gaze was wandering, and she was twiddling the fuse with her fingers.
"When did you buy it?" she asked uncertainly.
"The other day. It's very nice."
