Marked For Revenge. Emelie ScheppЧитать онлайн книгу.
But we don’t know anything more than that. We have no idea how the organization will look in detail.”
“No, because it hasn’t been fully decided yet,” Anders interrupted.
Gunnar exchanged an angry glance with Carin, which Anders noticed.
“Maybe it’d be better if Carin explained it to you. Carin is very well-informed about the reorganization.”
“But I am not?”
“You will be now, because unlike you, I choose to share the information I have rather than hiding it.”
“How nice.”
Anders stood behind Carin and rested his hand on her shoulder.
“Carin has been offered the position of regional police chief for Eastern Sweden, and has accepted. Over the course of the year, she will work together with the six other regional chiefs to finalize the details of the new organizational structure and create an action plan for 2015. At the same time, she will be finishing out her assignment here as county police commissioner until she steps into her new position at the start of the New Year.”
Carin stood up, adjusting her jacket, and said, “We have a tight timeline and it will be quite a challenge. Replacing the twenty-one police districts with a single authority can’t be done overnight. As I’m sure you know, we initiated the change in 2010, and now we’re down to the final steps. I understand that you have questions, and I will try to answer them as best I can. Your participation in this process is important to me.”
Carin nodded at the team sitting around the table. Henrik and Anneli smiled, Ola gave her a thumbs-up and Gunnar clapped cautiously.
“Well, congratulations,” Mia said, her arms crossed.
Carin nodded in reply and sat down.
“Carin is right. Your participation and your opinions are important.”
Gunnar sighed loudly. Too loudly.
Anders rubbed his hand across his balding head.
“You know what, Gunnar? I truly believe there are many advantages with the new Swedish Police Authority. But the greatest advantage is probably that the boundaries will be erased, that it will become easier to work together. Don’t you think so?”
* * *
The farm fields were covered in snow, the white blanket taking on a blue cast in the growing darkness. Narrow paths led into the dense forest. Lights from houses and farms glimmered through the trees.
Pim sat with her head resting against the vibrating window on the X2000 express train between Copenhagen and Stockholm. The train had left Copenhagen at exactly 6:36 p.m. and would reach Norrköping in less than four hours.
She touched the passport stuffed into her waistband and felt a gnawing anxiety in her belly. She turned around toward Noi, who sat in the row behind her, arms hanging limp, mouth open. Her gaze was locked on a point far beyond the window.
“Are you sleeping?” Pim asked.
“No,” Noi said, slowly.
“Are you sure someone is going to meet us?”
Noi didn’t answer. She closed her eyes.
“Noi? Noi!”
Noi slowly opened her eyes again and continued to stare out of the window. “I’m freezing,” she said, closing her eyes again. Her head fell gradually forward until her chin met her chest.
“Who’s coming to meet us? Noi? Noi!”
Noi slowly lifted her head back up to meet Pim’s eyes.
Her pupils were awfully small, Pim noticed.
“What’s going on? Are you feeling okay?” Pim asked.
“Nothing...sleep...” Noi slurred.
“Who’s going to meet us? Can’t you answer me?”
But Noi didn’t answer.
Pim pulled her knees up to her chest and sat huddled on the seat, watching the landscape rush past outside. Apart from her anxiety over the drugs still inside her, she felt a different kind of uneasiness now. She remembered clearly the last time she had felt this way.
It had been just one month ago. She’d been sitting on the floor and looking at her dead mother’s face. Her little sister, Mai, hadn’t yet understood what was happening. She’d thought her mother was sleeping, because that was what Pim had told her.
But she hadn’t been sleeping. She’d had the fever. Dengue fever.
Her mother had had bloodshot eyes and large bruises on her body. She’d screamed from the pain in her muscles and joints.
That one time, Pim had wished her father were there. She’d wished him there so that she could be allowed to be a child again.
Just a child.
She had wished that a grown-up would come in and make everything right. But it had been pointless to even think about it, a fruitless hope. Her father had abandoned them long ago. He had a new family; he couldn’t come to her aid then.
And when her mother had refused to go to the hospital, Pim’s last hope had vanished.
“It’s best for me to be here,” her mother had said.
“But they can help you.”
“Help costs money, Pim.”
“But...”
“Promise me instead...that you’ll take care of Mai.” Her mother had coughed out the sentences while frantically clawing at her arm until the fluid-filled blister had popped.
“No... I can’t do it myself!” Pim had said, starting to cry. “She’s only eight years old.”
“You’re fifteen. You can do it.”
Now Pim looked down at her hands, thinking of Mai and wondering what her little sister was doing that very moment. Was she sleeping? Did she feel alone or scared? But Pim was only going to be gone for five days, and soon, soon she would be home with Mai again.
Her lower lip started to quiver and she suddenly felt another, stronger pain—this one from the pills in her stomach.
I have to make sure I get home again, she thought.
* * *
Gunnar Öhrn sat at the desk in his office with his legs spread apart. He stretched his arms up and grunted when he felt the twinge in his shoulders. The pain went all the way up to what used to be his hairline. He felt too heavy and old, but he pushed those thoughts away. He didn’t have time to worry about things like that.
Investigation reports were piled on the bookshelf behind him. He was going to start somewhere in the middle, being effective and focused, reading carefully to shake off this feeling of tiredness.
He picked up folder after folder, flipping through a couple of documents in each one, but hadn’t gotten any further than this when there was a knock at the door. Anders Wester appeared with two coffee mugs in his hands.
“Did I wake you?” he said.
“What do you mean, wake me?” Gunnar asked.
“It looked like you were sleeping.”
“I was just thinking. Since when is that forbidden?”
“This damn weather.”
“I don’t feel like talking.”
Anders put the mugs on the table, sitting down in the chair across from Gunnar and resting his fingertips against each other.
“How is she?” Anders asked.
“Who?” Gunnar said.
“Anneli.”
“That’s