The front door was brown and well oiled, bordered on both sides with coloured stained-glass panels. A buzzer with a name on it: Samuelsson.
Hardly able to breathe, Annika closed her eyes, suddenly on the verge of tears.
A silly melody chimed inside the house.
Nothing happened.
She pressed the buzzer again: tinkle, tinkle.
Thomas came to the door; his hair was a mess, his shirt unbuttoned, no shoes, only socks and there was a pen in his mouth.
She forced air down into her lungs. The tears were threatening to spill over.
‘Hi,’ she whispered.
Thomas stared at her; he had gone all pale and he took the pen out of his mouth.
‘I’m not a ghost,’ she said, the tears falling now.
He stepped back and held the door open.
‘Come in,’ he said.
She went inside and realized how cold she was.
He closed the door and cleared his throat.
‘What’s the matter?’ he asked softly. ‘What’s happened?’
‘I’m sorry,’ she said in a throaty voice. ‘I’m sorry, I didn’t intend to start bawling.’
She shot him a quick glance.
Damn it
– she was so ugly when she cried.
‘Do you need help?’ Thomas said.
Annika swallowed.
‘Is she . . . here?’
‘Eleonor? No, she’s still at the bank.’
Annika took off her jacket and kicked off her shoes. Thomas disappeared off to the right, so she stood in the hall and checked out the surroundings. Furniture from an upscale store, R.O.O.M., some heirlooms, ugly paintings. A staircase leading downstairs.
‘May I come in?’
She didn’t wait for an answer, just followed him into the kitchen. Thomas was at the counter, pouring coffee.
‘Would you like some?’ he asked.
She nodded and sat down.
‘Why aren’t you at work?’
He set down two mugs on the kitchen table.
‘I’m working,’ he said. ‘Only today I’ve been working at home. I’m conducting an investigation for the Association of Local Authorities, so I’ll be doing some of it at home and some in town.’
Annika hid her hands under the table and tried to make them stop shaking.
‘Is there something wrong?’ Thomas asked, sitting down and looking at her.
She gazed into his eyes and took a few breaths, not knowing what reaction to expect from him – she didn’t have a clue.
‘I’m pregnant,’ she said.
He blinked, but otherwise his expression was unchanged.
‘What?’
She cleared her throat and clenched her fists under the table, still maintaining eye contact.
‘You’re the father. There’s no doubt about it. I haven’t been with anyone since . . . Sven died.’
She looked down at the table top, felt him look at her.
‘You’re pregnant?’ he said. ‘And the baby is mine?’
Annika nodded, the tears stinging in her eyes again.
‘I want to keep the baby,’ she said.
At that very moment the front door opened, and she felt Thomas freeze while her heart started racing.
‘Hello? Honey?’
Everyday sounds came from the hall as Eleonor wiped her feet, brushed her coat off and closed the front door behind her.
‘Thomas?’
Annika looked at Thomas. He looked back, speechless, his face drained of all colour.
‘I’m in the kitchen,’ he said, and got up and went into the hall.
‘What awful weather,’ Eleonor said. Annika could hear her kiss her husband on the cheek. ‘Have you started making dinner yet?’
He murmured some kind of reply and, feeling unable to move, Annika stared out the window. Reflected in the window, she could see Eleonor enter the kitchen and stop short.
‘This is Annika Bengtzon,’ Thomas said, his voice unsteady, ‘the journalist who wrote those articles about the Paradise Foundation.’
Annika drew a deep breath and looked at Eleonor.
Thomas’s wife, wearing a moss-green suit without lapels, and a thin gold chain around her neck.
‘What a pleasure,’ his wife said as she smiled and extended her hand. ‘Did you know that your article gave Thomas’s career quite a boost?’
Annika shook Eleonor’s hand. Her own hand was cold and damp and her mouth was as dry as dust.
‘Thomas and I are going to have a baby,’ she said.
The other woman continued to smile for several seconds. Thomas blanched where he was standing, behind his wife’s back, before flinching and covering his face with his hands.
‘What?’ Eleonor said, still smiling.
Annika let go of the woman’s hand and looked down at the table.
‘I’m pregnant. We’re going to have a baby.’
Eleonor stopped smiling and turned to face Thomas.
‘Is this some kind of joke?’ she said.
Thomas didn’t reply. He raked back his hair and closed his eyes.
‘The baby’s due at the end of July,’ Annika said. ‘I think it’s a boy.’
Eleonor whirled back around and stared at Annika. The colour left her face, her eyes narrowed and the whites acquired a reddish tinge.
‘What have you done?’ Eleonor hissed. Annika got up and backed away, Eleonor spun around to face Thomas again.
‘What have you done? Did you sleep with that piece of trash?’
Thomas’s wife walked up to him. He didn’t back away, but his gaze was fixed on the floor.
‘Damn you!’ the woman said in a strangulated voice. ‘Bringing home God knows what kind of diseases, risking my health!’
Thomas met his wife’s gaze.
‘Eleonor, it was . . . it just happened.’
‘Just happened? And why is that, Thomas? What were you thinking with?’
He rubbed his forehead. Annika felt her brain imploding:
I’m going to die
, she thought as she held on to the kitchen table to keep from falling.
‘Do you realize what this means?’ Eleonor said, trying to pull herself together. ‘You’ll have to pay for your mistake for eighteen years; as long as he’s a minor, you’ll be financially accountable for this kid. Was it worth it? Was it?’
Thomas stared at his wife as if she was a stranger.
‘You’re unbelievable,’ he said.
Eleonor tried to laugh.
‘
I
’m unbelievable?’ she said. ‘Have I done something wrong? You cheated on me and now you present me with a bastard child. Do you expect me to just accept something like that?’
Suddenly, Annika couldn’t breathe: there was no air left in this house, she had to get out, go home. So she forced herself into action and started moving in the direction of the hall and the front door, her knees shaking. Eleonor noticed that she was moving and whirled round to confront her, a resentful expression on her face.
‘Get out of my house!’ she shouted.
Annika stopped, allowing the woman’s hatred to hit her, and managed to catch Thomas’s eye.
‘Are you coming?’ she asked. Thomas stared at her.
‘Get out, you whore!’
The woman walked towards her with a menacing air. Annika didn’t budge.
‘Thomas,’ Annika said, ‘come with me.’
Thomas moved. He headed for the hall and got his coat and Annika’s jacket.
‘What are you doing?’ Eleonor said in a confused voice. ‘What do you think you’re doing?’
He went over to his wife, put on his coat and slipped into his shoes.
‘We have a few things to discuss,’ Thomas said. ‘I’ll call you.’
His wife gasped and she grabbed him by the lapels of his coat.
‘If you leave,’ she said, ‘if you walk out through that door, you’re not coming back.’
Thomas sighed.
‘Eleonor,’ he said, ‘don’t be so—’
‘You deceived me!’ she screamed. ‘If you walk out, you’re not coming back. That’s final!’
Annika stood by the front door, her hand resting on the door handle. She saw the man’s back, the hair that spilled over his collar, that shiny, strong hair. She saw him reach for his wife’s hands.
Oh no, he’s going to stay, the bond between them is too strong, he can’t break it.
‘I’ll be in touch,’ he said.
Thomas turned around, his eyes fixed on the floor, his lips compressed into a line.
Then he looked up at Annika. His eyes were clear and friendly.
‘Let’s go,’ he said.
Bulletin from the Swedish News Agency Tidningarnas
Telegrambyrå
Date: 13 March
Dept: Swedish National Affairs
Woman Accused of Fraud Comes Forward
STOCKHOLM (TT)
For the first time, the 3-year-old director of the Paradise Foundation comes forward.
On Monday the court will return its verdict on the highly publicized case where charges include conspiracy to murder.
‘It was a witch hunt’, the woman claims. ‘The tabloid
Kvällspressen
has destroyed my life.’
Last December
Kvällspressen
published a series of articles about the Paradise Foundation and its operations. The director of Paradise, a 3-year-old woman, was accused by the paper of crimes such as attempted fraud, unlawful threat, assault and conspiracy to murder.
‘I never received the opportunity to defend myself,’ the woman tells TT. ‘The articles appeared in the paper before I had a chance to sort things out. The entire business is due to a misunderstanding. Given the chance, I could have explained everything.’
The paper featured several women who claimed to have been misled by you.
‘You must keep in mind that these people are in poor shape. They aren’t always aware of their best interests. We were well on our way to helping one of these families when they decided to run away.’
In addition to this, several local authorities claimed to have been the subject of attempted fraud.
‘Our foundation was new. It’s true that our procedures had a few minor discrepancies. But our intention was to offer people protection. It wasn’t a part of the public health-care services. The whole point was to maintain the integrity of the clients. This was unacceptable to some factions within Social Services.’
The charges against you include breach of trust, false accounting, several counts of tax fraud, and attempts to obstruct tax supervision.
‘I’ve tried to do business in this country, to create jobs. At times I’ve worked with people who have failed me, tricked me. But I’ve never tried to trick anyone out of money – not the government, the local authorities or any individuals. It’s true that I’ve had certain financial difficulties, but most of my debts have been written off.’
The Prosecution claims you ordered the murder of Aida Begovic that took place at Sergelstorg last November.
‘That’s the worst charge of them all,’ the woman says, having difficulties keeping her voice steady. ‘I don’t know why anyone would be so cruel as to accuse me of such a thing. I did everything I could for Aida, but she was much too traumatized by her wartime experiences to benefit from any measures.’
You are also accused of complicity in an assault case and unlawful abduction with regard to Thomas Samuelsson of the Vaxholm Social Services.
‘He committed a crime. He forced his way on to the premises and threatened us. My brother and I were merely defending ourselves, but we were too rough, and I regret that.’
Are you worried about what the verdict will be?
‘Not really: I have faith in the justice system. But I do feel violated. Misunderstood. Crushed. It took me three years to lay the groundwork for Paradise, that’s why my finances were strained. But I put everything I had on the line, and my only intent was to help other people. A society that would treat me like this is unworthy of being called civilized.’
(nnnn)
Copyright: Tidningarnas Telegrambyrå
Bulletin from the Associated Press
Date: 18 April
Dept: News
War Criminal Starts Private Army
South Africa (AP) The Serbian war criminal Ratko, suspected of involvement in the massacres at Vokuvar and Bijelina at the beginning of the war in Bosnia, is presently commanding a private army of mercenaries in South Africa. This was reported by sources in Cape Town today.
The army operates all over the central and southern regions of Africa, and is commissioned by governments and international corporate groups.
Ratko purportedly financed his army with funds from Serbian cigarette smuggling operations in Scandinavia along with loans from the Russian Mafia.
(nnnn)
Copyright: Associated Press
London: 4 July
Dear Annika,
I hope you’ve had a great Midsummer.
My family and I celebrated the weekend in traditional fashion at the cottage we rented when we left Paradise. We’re all doing well.
I’m writing you from Gatwick Airport on the outskirts of London. We have a few hours to kill before we continue our journey.
The formalities have been wrapped up, and we have received residence permits. This is our last stop before we reach our new home. It was hard to leave Sweden, but everything will be better over there, especially for the kids.
All the best,
Mia Eriksson
Dept: Swedish National Affairs
Author: Sjölander
Date: 10 August
Page: 1 (of 2)
The Russians Are Taking Over
The peace was short-lived.
The crime rate is back to where it was before the police clean-up of the Yugoslav Mafia.
‘The Russians have taken over,’ a police source informs
Kvällspressen
.
Last year, during the Lucia Day celebrations on 13 December,
Kvällspressen
published an exposé of Yugoslav Mafia operations in Sweden. This series of articles brought about the largest coordinated police sweep of organized crime in history. More than thirty-five buildings, cars, boats and trailers were searched or impounded during the raids that took place for twenty-four hours straight. Significant quantities of arms, narcotics, illegal alcohol and cigarettes were confiscated. Some fifty illegal immigrants have been deported so far.
Interrogations have been conducted all summer long, but much still remains to be done before charges can be brought against all those arrested at the time.