"There already was a building manager there. His name was Kurt and he regularly drank large quantities of alcohol. He hated me from the very first moment, claiming I was there to spy on him. Already on my first day at the site, his features disappeared. I couldn't see him.
"The site was one big mess. Everything was delayed and they were badly over budget. I started clearing up behind Kurt without his noticing it. On the occasions he caught me making any form of decision, he had a go at me. But after I got there, he didn't do a stroke of work. Often he didn't even show up. The first time that happened I reported it, but it made him so furious that I never did it again.
"In addition, I was now supposed to be site foreman, something I'd never been before. It got difficult. The concrete often shifted colors, and sometimes I would float, weightless, about three inches above the floor. The men changed, both shape and substance. When they asked me to order more visual angles and wondered where the eye measure was, I was dumbfounded. I knew they were poking fun at me. But I couldn't defend myself. I tried being flexible and strong at the same time. I talked to the building, but it refused to answer. Once again I was taking care of timetables and estimates, moving around on the site, but the glass cage around me was impenetrable. But we finished on time, and only marginally over budget.
"Christina was coming out to perform the inauguration. I remember the fervor and pride I felt on that day. I'd done it, I'd bounced back, I hadn't given up. I'd made sure the technical facilities building was ready in time for the trial competitions. I detested the building itself, but I had done my duty. Christina knew this, Christina would see it, Christina would understand that I was worthy of a place in the light again. She would see me for who I was and put me back in my rightful place, by her side, as her attendant, her crown princess.
"I dressed with care on the day: blouse, well-ironed trousers, and loafers. This time I was among the first to arrive; I wanted to make sure of a place near the entrance.
"I hadn't seen Christina for a long time, only glimpsed her at a distance once when she came to inspect the building of the stadium. It wasn't going very well, I'd heard. It was uncertain whether they'd finish on time. Now, here she was, shining brighter and with clearer features than I'd remembered. She said nice things about the Olympic Games and our proud Olympic Village, praising the workers and those responsible for making the work run so smoothly. So she wanted to call the project manager forward, the person who had made sure that the building was ready on time, and what a great building it was too. And she called out Kurt's name. She applauded, everyone applauded, and Kurt went up to Christina, smiling, taking her hand, she putting her hand on his arm, their mouths laughing, but there was no sound. The bastards, the bastards…
"That night I went to the explosives storage and picked up the second box of dynamite and a bag of electric detonators. This box was full of little paper-wrapped cartridges of a hundred grams apiece, little pink and purple paper tubes that looked like peppermint rock. It's some of those that you have on your back now. The box contained two hundred and fifty of them; even though I've used quite a few, there are still a lot left."
She sat in silence for a while. Annika took the opportunity to rest her head in her hands. The tunnel was completely quiet; there was only a low hum from the strip lights under the ceiling. They've stopped calling, Annika thought. Have they stopped looking for me already?
Beata resumed her story and Annika stretched her back.
"During the last year, I've been off sick quite a lot. I'm formally stationed in the pool of project managers that go around inspecting and completing details at the various training arenas. The last two months I've been working at Sätra Hall. You see the demotion I've been subject to— from the proudest of all buildings to thrashing out technicalities at the oldest training facilities. I never have time to establish any communication with my workplaces nowadays. The buildings taunt me, just as the men do. Stefan Bjurling was worst of all. He was a foreman with the subcontractor responsible for Sätra Hall. There was always a sneer on his face when I tried to talk to him. He never listened to me. He called me 'pet' and ignored everything I said. The only occasions he did refer to me was when the men asked him where they should put trash and lumber. 'Give it to little pet,' he'd say. He laughed at me, and the beautiful hall joined in. The sound was unbearable."
Beata fell silent and didn't say anything for so long that Annika started fidgeting. Her muscles ached with weariness, and on top of that she now had a bad headache. Her arms felt like lead— that paralyzing feeling that would come creeping after half past three in the morning. She recognized it from the night shifts.
She thought of her children, where they were, if they missed her. I wonder if Thomas will find the Christmas gifts? I never got to tell him I hid them in the big closet, she thought.
She looked at Beata. The woman was sitting with her head in her hands. Annika carefully turned her head and looked furtively at the bag behind her. If only she could get hold of the phone, then she could call and tell them where she was! The signal went through, even though they were in an underground tunnel. She'd be free in fifteen minutes. Easier said than done. As long as she was tied up and as long as Beata was still here. If only Beata would get her the bag and put her fingers in her ears while she made the call…
She gasped— suddenly she remembered a story she had written two years before. It was a beautiful late winter day, and people were out walking on the ice-covered waters around Stockholm…
"Are you dreaming?" Beata said.
Annika started and smiled. "No, not at all. I'm looking forward to hearing the rest," she said.
"A couple of weeks ago, Christina arranged a big party in
Blå Hallen,
the banqueting hall at City Hall. It was the last big party before the Games, and everyone was invited. I was really looking forward to the night. City Hall is one of my best friends. I often go up in the tower, climbing the steps, letting the stone walls dance under my hands, feeling the draught from the small apertures in the walls. I rest on the top landing. Together we share the view and the wind. It's overpoweringly erotic.
"I arrived much too early. I soon realized I was far too dressed up. But I didn't mind. City Hall was my partner and I was well looked after. Christina was coming, and I was hoping that the forgiving atmosphere in the building would straighten out all misunderstandings. I moved around among the people, had a glass of wine, and talked to the building.
"When the murmur in the hall rose to an excited buzz, I knew Christina had arrived. She was received like the queen she was. I got up on a chair in order to see it properly. It's hard to explain, but Christina had a sort of light about her, an aura that made her look like she was always in a spotlight. It was fantastic—
she
was fantastic. Everyone greeted her, and she nodded and smiled. She had a word for everyone. Shaking hands like an American president on an election campaign. I was standing quite far back in the hall, but she was slowly working herself over my way. I jumped down from the chair and lost sight of her, since I'm so short. But suddenly she was standing there in front of me, beautiful and glowing in her light. I felt myself beginning to smile, from ear to ear, I think I even had tears in my eyes.
" 'Welcome, Christina,' I said, holding out my hand. 'I'm so glad you're here.'
" 'Thank you,' she said. 'Have we met?'
"Her eyes met mine and her mouth was smiling. I saw she was smiling, but the smile was contorting and her face died. She had no teeth. There were maggots in her mouth and her eye sockets were empty. She smiled, breathing death and sewage. I felt myself recoiling. She didn't recognize me. She didn't know who I was. She didn't know her crown princess. She spoke, and her voice came from an abyss, dull and raucous like a tape being played too slowly.
" 'Shall we move on?' Christina boomed, the maggots crawling out of her head, and I knew then I had to kill her. You understand that, don't you? Surely you must understand? That she couldn't be allowed to live? She was a monster, a fallen angel with a halo. Evil had devoured her, corrupting her inside and out. My house was right; she was evil incarnate. I hadn't seen that, the others hadn't seen it, all they saw was what I'd seen: her successful exterior, her luminous aura, and her bleached hair. But I'd seen it, Annika; I discovered her true self. She'd shown herself to me as the monster she was, reeking of poison and rotten blood…"
Annika felt the nausea growing inside her. It was almost unbearable. Beata opened a can of Coke, drinking it in small, careful sips.
"One should really drink Diet Coke, for the calories, but I can't stand the taste. What do you think?" she asked Annika.
Annika swallowed. "You're absolutely right," she said.
Beata smiled a bit.
"My decision helped me survive the evening because the nightmare wasn't over. Do you know who she chose for her Prince, her partner at table? Of course you know that, you had a picture of them together. All of a sudden everything fell into place. I knew what the purpose of my cold treasures at home was. It was all revealed to me. The big box was meant for Christina, the smaller cartridges for those who walked in her footsteps.
"My plan was simple. I would follow Christina around. Sometimes I got it into my head that she knew I was there. She would look around anxiously before she hurried into her big car, always with the laptop under her arm. I used to wonder what she wrote on it, if she wrote anything about me or maybe about Helena Starke. I knew she often went to Helena Starke's house. I would wait outside and see her leave early in the morning. I understood they were lovers. I knew it would be fatal for Christina if this got out. That made it simple, at least theoretically. Certain things get very messy when you put them into practice, don't you think?
"Anyway, last Friday night when I saw Christina and Helena leave the Secretariat's Christmas party, I knew the time had come. I went home and picked up my big treasure. It was heavy, and I put it next to me on the front seat. On the floor in the front was a car battery that I'd bought at a gas station in Västberga. The timer I got from IKEA. People use them in their holiday cottages to fool burglars.
"I parked over where your car is now. The bag was heavy, but I'm stronger than I look. I was a bit nervous. I didn't know how much time I had, and I had to finish the preparations before Christina left Helena's house. Luckily, it all went quite quickly. I carried the bag up to the entrance around the back, switched off the alarms, and unlocked the doors. I nearly got into trouble there; a man saw me enter— he was on his way to that horrible club. If I'd still been the project manager, I'd never have allowed such an establishment right next to the stadium.
"That night, the arena was absolutely stunning. It shone at me in the moonlight. I put the box on the North Stand. The lettering gleamed all white in the dark: 'Minex 50 x 550, 24kg, 15 p.c.s. 1,600g.' I put the masking tape next to the box. It would be so easy to prime the charge, all I had to do was put the metal piece into one of the sausages and pull the fuse over toward the main entrance. There I put the battery and set the timer in the way I'd practiced. Where did I practice? In a gravel pit outside Rimbo, in the Lohärad parish. The bus only runs twice a day, but I've had plenty of time to wait. I've only set off small charges, one peppermint rock at a time; they'll last me a long time yet.
"When I'd finished my preparations, I went and unlocked the main entrance, but I left the building via this passage. The entrance here from the stadium is at the bottom of the basement, deep under the main entrance. You can go down with the main elevator, but I used the stairs. Then I walked quickly over to Ringvägen; I was afraid I'd be too late. But I wasn't, on the contrary. I had to wait for a long time in a doorway on the other side of the street. When Christina stepped out, I dialed her number from my cellphone. They can't trace me, because I used a pay-as-you-go card. They couldn't trace the call to your car yesterday either; I still had time left on the card.
"It was easy to persuade Christina to come to the stadium. I told her I knew everything about her and Helena, that I had photographs of it all, and that I'd give the negatives to Hans Bjällra, the chairman of the board, if she didn't come and talk to me. Bjällra hates Christina. Everyone at the Secretariat knows that. He would pounce on the first opportunity to humiliate her. So, Christina came, but she must have been in two minds about it. She came walking across the footbridge from South Island, fuming. It took her quite a while. For a while I thought she wasn't going to show up.
"I was waiting inside the entryway, hiding among the shadows behind the statues. My blood was boiling. The whole building was exulting. My stadium was behind me; it would stand by me. I wanted to do this properly. Christina was going to die in the place where she had broken me. She was going to be torn to pieces on the Victoria Stadium North Stand because I had been. When she entered, I was going to hit her on the head with a hammer, the builder's classic tool. Then I'd move her to the stand, prime the charge, and with my snakes of pink plastic coiled around her body, I would tell her why she was here. I was going to reveal to her that I'd seen her monster. My superiority would shine like a star in the night. Christina would ask my forgiveness, and the explosion would be the consummation of our relationship."
