Red Wolf_ A Novel - Liza Marklund [149]
She looked at herself in the mirror, and in her eyes she could see what she had to do.
If she stayed in the room she would die. She had to get out, even if that meant taking Hans Blomberg with her.
‘Who’s the Tiger?’ she asked as she walked back into the room, concealing her intentions behind dull eyes.
Something needy and lustful had lit up in the archivist’s eyes. He was staring at her crotch.
‘Kenneth Uusitalo,’ he said. ‘Departmental manager at Swedish Steel. A really great guy, active in the Manufacturers’ Association, negotiates slave-contracts with the Third World. Unfortunately he’s been away for a while.’
He licked his lips.
Annika went over to the desk again, and leaned over it.
‘But really,’ she said, ‘you’re not much better yourself. You’re only after Göran’s money.’
He flew up like a shot, raced across the room and pressed the pistol to her forehead.
‘For being sarcastic,’ he said, taking the safety catch off, and she felt fear loosen her bladder and let out the few drops that were in there.
‘Good luck with the treasure hunt,’ she croaked, her mouth completely dry.
He stared at her for a few seconds, then pulled the gun away from her head, pointing it at the ceiling.
‘What do you know?’
‘I’m not sure,’ she said, ‘but I saw Göran Nilsson put a duffel bag in a transformer box next to the railway. Could that be it?’
She gulped audibly, the man raised his eyebrows.
‘Oh,’ he said, ‘so it’s suddenly time to tell the truth, is it?’
‘Can I sit down?’
He moved so that he had her in his line of fire as her knees gratefully lowered her onto the chair.
‘Where exactly is this box?’
She struggled for air for several seconds.
‘Not far from the viaduct,’ she said. ‘There’s a little clump of pine trees right next to it.’
‘How come you saw that?’
‘I was hiding, watching Karina, and I saw Göran put the bag in there.’
The archivist went up to her, put his hand round her neck, breathing right in her face and staring into her eyes.
‘Well, well,’ he said. ‘I do believe you’re telling the truth. Put your coat on.’
Hans Blomberg backed towards the door.
‘I’ll have the pistol in my pocket the whole time. If you try anything you won’t be the only one. You’ll be taking the girl in reception with you to hell. Understood?’
Annika nodded, pulling on her jacket. They stepped out of the room; the corridor was tilting and swaying. In the lift the archivist stood so close to her she could feel his chest against her breasts.
‘How did you know where I’d be staying?’ she asked, looking up at his face.
‘Your charming boss told me. I think his name was Jansson?’
The lift stopped with a jerk.
‘I shall be walking right behind you,’ the archivist said. ‘If you’re a good girl then the little lady in reception will get a chance to grow up.’
He moved even closer to her, his hands sliding into her coat pockets and down towards her crotch.
She kicked the door to open it.
He quickly withdrew his hands from her pockets, and in one hand he was holding her mobile phone.
‘Nice and quiet, now,’ he whispered.
They stepped into the lobby. Linda the receptionist came out from the kitchen, talking on the phone, and smiled warmly at them.
Ring the police, Annika tried to tell her telepathically, staring at her with fire in her eyes. Ring the police! Ring the police!
But the young woman waved to them and went back into the room behind reception with her phone.
‘And out we go,’ Hans Blomberg whispered.
The cold tore at her skin, and she felt the pistol at her back again.
‘To the right,’ the archivist said. She turned and walked unsteadily along the pavement, they passed her hire-car with Ragnwald’s millions in the boot. Hans Blomberg pulled her by the arm and steered her towards an old Passat that was parked outside a bookshop.
‘It isn’t locked,’ he said. ‘Jump in.’
Annika did as he said. The car-seat was ice-cold, the man walked round the car and got in the driver’s seat.
‘Where did you steal this one?’ Annika asked.
‘Porsön,’ Hans