Free The Long Shadow by Liza Marklund Page B

or killers, rather, smashed down the wall that the safe was cemented into and took it with them, presumably unopened. All the artwork’s missing, along with computers, televisions and other electronic equipment, as well as any jewellery and cash. It looks like they took their time.’
    ‘What does “took their time” mean?’ Annika asked.
    ‘At least twenty minutes for the safe, and the same again for the rest of the job.’
    ‘Any idea what time of night it happened?’
    ‘The killers got into the house at three thirty-four.’ Annika’s eyes widened. ‘How do you know?’
    ‘That’s when the alarm on the gate was disconnected.’
    ‘“Disconnected”?’ Annika said. ‘Did they cut the power? Pull out the cables?’
    Garen looked at his watch again. ‘The only explanation I can come up with is that the killers knew the code,’ he said, standing up.

5
    Annika remained sitting at the table after the police officers had left and took her phone out of her bag. She began with Carita Halling Gonzales’s home number.
    No answer.
    She dialled the mobile number, and a woman’s voice answered: ‘
Sí, díga?
’
    ‘Carita Halling Gonzales?’ She could hear children shouting in the background.
    ‘
Soy yo.
’
    ‘My name’s Annika Bengtzon. I was given your name by Knut Garen. I’m a reporter on the Swedish
Evening Post
, and I could do with an interpreter for a few days. Is it right that you interpret from Swedish to Spanish?’
    ‘Will you please be quiet?’ she said, away from the phone, and the children’s laughter died down. ‘Yes, I’m an interpreter, but things are a bit crazy today. I mean, it’s Twelfth Night tomorrow … No! Listen to me!’
    Annika pressed the bridge of her nose between her thumb and forefinger and tried to summon some patience. She ought to have asked for some other names.
    ‘What sort of job is it?’ Carita Halling Gonzales asked.
    ‘
Está libre?
’
    Annika looked up and saw three fat women pointing hopefully at the empty chairs round her table.
    ‘
No
,’ Annika said, lowering the phone. ‘
No libre
.’
    The women started to sit down regardless.
    ‘
No libre!
’ Annika roared, waving her hands. The women glared at her indignantly and made their way towards the other end of the bar.
    When in Spain, speak as the Spaniards do, she thought, and raised her phone again.
    ‘I’m here looking into a number of deaths,’ she said. ‘A Swedish family, a Sebastian Söderström, his wife and children. Maybe you’ve heard about it.’
    ‘Goodness, yes,’ Carita said. ‘I only found out this morning. It’s awful. We’ve been expecting something like this to happen – there’ve been so many break-ins using knock-out gas down here.’
    Annika was making notes to help her remember the quote. ‘Did you know the family?’
    ‘The Söderströms? No, I can’t say I did, really. I’d met them, of course. Our children go to the same school.’
    ‘Which one?’
    ‘Marbella International College. What would the job entail?’
    Annika scratched her head. She didn’t like travelling, and had always avoided it as far as she could. She’d never worked with an interpreter before. ‘My Spanish is too poor for me to make myself understood,’ she said, ‘and I’ve never been here before. I need help with the most basic things, talking to people and finding my way to where I want to go.’
    ‘I’ll check with Nacho,’ she said, ‘if I can get hold of him. He’s probably got patients now, of course.’
    ‘Nacho?’ Annika said.
    ‘My husband. He’s a paediatrician. Can I call you back?’
    Annika leaned back in her chair and put her mobile on the table. She ought to ring Patrik, even though there was no point. She closed her eyes and leaned her head against the wall. She really was horribly tired. When the alarm-clock had gone off at three fifteen that morning she had almost thrown up. Now she felt her neck relax as her head lolled to one side and her chin dropped.