Red Wolf: A Novel by Lisa Marklund

Author:Lisa Marklund [Marklund, Lisa]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: General, Fiction, Mystery & Detective, Women Sleuths, Suspense, Suspense fiction, Terrorism, Crime, Thrillers, Family & Relationships, Serial murders, Sweden, Parenting, Women Journalists, Fiction:Suspense, Criminal investigation
ISBN: 9781451602067
Publisher: Simon & Schuster
Published: 2011-02-14T00:00:00+00:00

30

Anders Schyman watched the door close behind Annika Bengtzon, disappointment burning in his gut. So incredibly sad. Annika was so thorough, so ambitious. Now she had evidently lost her grip completely. Lost touch with reality and fled into some sort of fantasy world with terrorists in government and professional killers involved with local politicians in Östhammar.

He had to sit down, and turned his chair so that he ended up looking at his own reflection in the dark glass, trying to make out the contours of the concrete buildings spread out below the Russian flag.

What were his responsibilities as her boss in a position like this? Should he tell human resources? Was Annika Bengtzon a danger to herself or anyone else?

He saw himself gulp as he sat there in his office chair.

He hadn’t noticed any suicidal tendencies or signs of violence. The only thing he knew for sure was that her articles were no longer reliable, and that was something he was paid to deal with. Bengtzon needed to be managed much more strictly, both by him and by the other editors.

Sad, he thought again. There had been a time when she was very good at digging up stories.

The door flew open and Herman Wennergren strode into his room without knocking, as usual.

‘It’s a good idea to pick wars you can win,’ the chairman of the board said through clenched teeth, dropping his briefcase on the sofa. ‘Can I have some coffee?’

Anders Schyman leaned forward, pressed the button on the intercom and asked his secretary to bring two cups. Then he got up and walked slowly, back straight, towards the sofas where Wennergren had sat down, still wearing his coat, unsure what this unannounced visit meant.

‘A bad day on the battlefield?’ he said, settling down on the other side of the table.

The chairman of the board fingered the lock of his briefcase, his nails clicking against the metal in an unconscious and irritating way.

‘You win some, you lose some,’ he said. ‘I can give you good news that I appear to be winning on your behalf. I’ve just come from a meeting of the Newspaper Publishers’ Association, where I proposed you as new chair after the New Year. The last chap hasn’t worked out at all, so we all agreed we need a change, and my suggestion met surprisingly little resistance. No one had any objections, neither publishers nor directors.’

Wennergren seemed genuinely surprised.

‘Maybe they were just shocked,’ Schyman said, as his secretary brought in a coffee-tray full of cups and biscuits.

‘I don’t think so,’ the chairman said, grabbing a ginger biscuit before the tray had reached the table. ‘The managing director called you a collective capitalist. What do you think he meant by that?’

‘Depends if the tone was positive or negative, and what values you attach to the description,’ Schyman said, avoiding the question.

Herman Wennergren took a careful sip from the china cup with pouting lips and his little finger sticking out. He swallowed a small mouthful, then said, ‘It’s possible that the other groups are gathering their forces.

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