Unspoken

to occur much sooner than he had dared hope. The very next morning she called him at the hotel.
    “I’m going to Stockholm tomorrow for a one-day conference, connected with my work.”
    “Are you kidding? Are we on the same flight?”
    “No, I’m taking the boat. It was planned long ago.”
    “Does that mean that I can see you?”
    “Yes. I wasn’t thinking of staying overnight, but I can if I want to because there’s a banquet in the evening. Teachers from all over the country are invited. I was planning to skip the banquet, but I can say that I’ve changed my mind and book a hotel room. That doesn’t mean that I actually have to sleep there. . . .”
    He couldn’t believe his ears.
    “Are you serious?”
    She laughed.
    “Would you like to have dinner together tomorrow night? Or are you busy?” she asked.
    He thought for a moment.
    “Let me see . . . Tomorrow night I was planning to stay home alone in front of the TV and eat chips, so I guess I won’t be able to meet you. Unfortunately.”
    His heart was singing.
    “But seriously—we could go to a fantastic new place in Söder. It’s small and noisy, but the food is superb.”
    “That sounds great.”
    He put down the phone and clenched his hand in a fist, in a gesture of victory. Could it be that she had finally given in?
    From the beginning Grenfors had doubted that Regional News should do a story about the murder of Henry Dahlström. In his view, it had just been a drunken fight. He was not alone. Many of his colleagues shared this opinion, and consequently they had settled for only a brief mention of the case so far.
    If the editors decided not to report a story in the beginning, it was difficult to sell the idea later on. News stories were perishable goods. A story that was super-hot one day might seem musty the next. Four days had passed since Dahlström’s body had been found, and that was an eternity in the news business. Grenfors didn’t sound especially interested when Johan called him after lunch.
    “So what’s new about it?”
    “Dahlström was doing odd jobs for people in their homes. Carpentry work and things like that. Getting paid under the table, of course.”
    “You don’t say.” Grenfors yawned audibly.
    Johan could picture the editor checking the TT wire service on his computer screen as they talked.
    “Someone deposited money into his bank account. Twice. Twenty-five thousand kronor each time.”
    “So they might have been payments that he was getting for work done illegally.”
    “Maybe. But there’s a lot to report about the case, and we haven’t done a single story on it yet,” countered Johan. “Good Lord, a man literally had his head bashed in with a hammer in his darkroom. And this happened on little Gotland—don’t forget that. All the other stations have reported it, but we’ve hardly said a word. Now it turns out that the victim was working illegally for people, and on top of that, mysterious deposits were made to his bank account. And we’re the only ones who know about it. All indications are that this was not your ordinary drunken fight. It’s in our territory, for God’s sake, and we do such a shitty job of reporting on Gotland.”
    “Have the police confirmed the information?”
    “Not the bank deposits,” Johan admitted. “We found that out from a bank teller. The police refused to confirm whether it was true, but I’m convinced that it is. I know how Knutas reacts in this type of situation. But he did confirm the part about Dahlström working illegally.”
    “That might be enough. But today we’re reporting on the gang rape prosecution in Botkyrka and the trial of the cop killer in Märsta. That’s a hell of a lot of crime stories for one broadcast.”
    Johan lost his temper.
    “I don’t think we can wait on this. We’ve been dragging our feet on this story, and now we’re the only ones who have the new information. The newspapers might have the story by tomorrow!”
    “That’s the chance we’ll have to take. It’s not really that interesting. Finish up your assignment today, and then I need you back here in the newsroom tomorrow. But we won’t run the story tonight. It fits in better with the Friday broadcast. That’s all the time I have right now. Bye.”
    Johan was fuming as he put down the phone. What a fucking attitude! Every other news program had the story about the trial and the gang rape, but they were the only ones with this news about the murder.