She had her mobile to her ear, and she was tearing someone off a strip. When the conversation ended she hissed like a cat, making Sundström jump. ‘All okay so far?’ he enquired. ‘Apparently we can’t get Niskanen here.’ ‘The cross-country skier?’ he asked. She did not reply, and was already talking to someone else on her phone. ‘Kai wants Niskanen, dammit. It must be possible to get the man away from his sheep for a couple of hours … I don’t care about that, the important thing is to get him to agree, by this evening at the latest … Because that’s when the press release goes out to the guests, you fool, that’s why! So you want to see the studio, right?’ It took Sundström a few seconds to realise that this last remark was meant for him, not the fool at the other end of the line. ‘Yes, exactly. That would be kind.’ ‘Why do you want to see it?’ Yes, why, he wondered, why indeed? ‘We’d like to position security guards at sensitive points. We need an overall view of the studio,’ he said.
