when the pair who had been shot fell, nor seen the killer leave the hall. Even so he managed to pull it together: the hall and all the lights, the dancing, the heat, the blood, and the screaming.
And she’s dancing with me, we’re dancing in the Golden Hall beneath the gaze of the Queen of the Mälaren, she’s so light in my arms and I want to be here forever …
Annika read that sentence three times and felt her pulse quicken.
“Do you want coffee?”
Annika nodded.
They moved to the sofas at the far end of the room with their mugs and papers.
“What was security on the entrance like?” Berit asked, putting her mug down on a white napkin. “Metal detectors? Bags through a scanner? Pat-downs?”
Annika folded the other paper with a snort.
“Nothing like that at all. Everyone went in through the main entrance, you know, the gateway on Hantverkargatan, then over the courtyard and up to the doors that lead straight into the Blue Hall. We had to queue there for a couple of minutes and show our invitations, and then we were in.”
“Really?” Berit said skeptically. “Please tell me that the invitation had some sort of electronic tag?”
Annika took a sip of her coffee and shook her head.
“Printed black type on cream-colored card. You know, I still don’t think that’s right,” she said, examining the photofit picture on the front of the paper. “But I can’t work out what’s wrong with it.”
“You must have got a good look at her.”
“For about two seconds,” Annika said. “To start with I didn’t think I remembered anything, but the police officer in the profiling unit was pretty good. He dragged out pictures from deep inside here that I didn’t know were there.”
She knocked on her head.
“It must have been a very unnerving experience,” Berit said.
Annika slumped a little in the sofa, staring blindly at a large tapestry hanging on the wall.
“To begin with I almost had to laugh,” she said, her voice sounding suddenly weaker. “It looked so funny, the old bloke tumbling over like that—I thought he was drunk. Then there was a scream, sort of off to the right, and it just got worse until everyone was screaming and the orchestra stopped playing. Then the screaming carried into all the other rooms, sort of like a big wave …”
Berit waited for a few seconds after Annika had stopped talking.
“What were the security people doing?”
The gray suits with wires on their heads.
“During dinner they were spaced out across the balcony outside the Golden Hall and along the pillared walkway down toward the courtyard. When the dancing started they spread out, there were a lot of them in the Prince’s Gallery with the royal couple. There were more down by the entrance, I suppose. There were hardly any by the dance floor. But once Caroline had fallen as well they came running from all directions, gettinghold of those of us who had been standing closest. We weren’t allowed to leave until we’d been questioned.”
“So you saw when the man was shot—did you see her get hit as well?”
Annika ran her fingers through her hair, pushing it back.
“I don’t know,” she said. “But I was looking at her when she realized she’d been shot. Blood was jetting out from her chest, like this …”
She demonstrated with her hand.
“And then I fell over—someone knocked me and I ended up on the floor right next to Caroline. There was a man next to her with his hands over her heart and blood was bubbling up between his fingers, sort of bright-red, with bubbles of air in it …”
She put her hands over her eyes for a moment to block out the sight.
“God, how horrible,” Berit said. “Don’t you think you ought to talk to someone about this?”
“What, like group therapy?” Annika said, straightening up. “I don’t think so.”
“Why not? A lot of people find it helpful.”
“Not me,” Annika said, and a moment later her cell phone rang.
It was Spike, the head of
And she’s dancing with me, we’re dancing in the Golden Hall beneath the gaze of the Queen of the Mälaren, she’s so light in my arms and I want to be here forever …
Annika read that sentence three times and felt her pulse quicken.
“Do you want coffee?”
Annika nodded.
They moved to the sofas at the far end of the room with their mugs and papers.
“What was security on the entrance like?” Berit asked, putting her mug down on a white napkin. “Metal detectors? Bags through a scanner? Pat-downs?”
Annika folded the other paper with a snort.
“Nothing like that at all. Everyone went in through the main entrance, you know, the gateway on Hantverkargatan, then over the courtyard and up to the doors that lead straight into the Blue Hall. We had to queue there for a couple of minutes and show our invitations, and then we were in.”
“Really?” Berit said skeptically. “Please tell me that the invitation had some sort of electronic tag?”
Annika took a sip of her coffee and shook her head.
“Printed black type on cream-colored card. You know, I still don’t think that’s right,” she said, examining the photofit picture on the front of the paper. “But I can’t work out what’s wrong with it.”
“You must have got a good look at her.”
“For about two seconds,” Annika said. “To start with I didn’t think I remembered anything, but the police officer in the profiling unit was pretty good. He dragged out pictures from deep inside here that I didn’t know were there.”
She knocked on her head.
“It must have been a very unnerving experience,” Berit said.
Annika slumped a little in the sofa, staring blindly at a large tapestry hanging on the wall.
“To begin with I almost had to laugh,” she said, her voice sounding suddenly weaker. “It looked so funny, the old bloke tumbling over like that—I thought he was drunk. Then there was a scream, sort of off to the right, and it just got worse until everyone was screaming and the orchestra stopped playing. Then the screaming carried into all the other rooms, sort of like a big wave …”
Berit waited for a few seconds after Annika had stopped talking.
“What were the security people doing?”
The gray suits with wires on their heads.
“During dinner they were spaced out across the balcony outside the Golden Hall and along the pillared walkway down toward the courtyard. When the dancing started they spread out, there were a lot of them in the Prince’s Gallery with the royal couple. There were more down by the entrance, I suppose. There were hardly any by the dance floor. But once Caroline had fallen as well they came running from all directions, gettinghold of those of us who had been standing closest. We weren’t allowed to leave until we’d been questioned.”
“So you saw when the man was shot—did you see her get hit as well?”
Annika ran her fingers through her hair, pushing it back.
“I don’t know,” she said. “But I was looking at her when she realized she’d been shot. Blood was jetting out from her chest, like this …”
She demonstrated with her hand.
“And then I fell over—someone knocked me and I ended up on the floor right next to Caroline. There was a man next to her with his hands over her heart and blood was bubbling up between his fingers, sort of bright-red, with bubbles of air in it …”
She put her hands over her eyes for a moment to block out the sight.
“God, how horrible,” Berit said. “Don’t you think you ought to talk to someone about this?”
“What, like group therapy?” Annika said, straightening up. “I don’t think so.”
“Why not? A lot of people find it helpful.”
“Not me,” Annika said, and a moment later her cell phone rang.
It was Spike, the head of
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