Regina Rosenberg was a new hire, and this was her third day on the job. But that didn’t make her a dimwit.
“Lindell.”
“Excuse me?”
“I want to speak with Ann Lindell.”
“There is no Ann Lindell at the department,” Regina Rosenberg stated after a few quick finger taps and a glance at the screen in front of her.
“Of course there is. Are you new, or what?”
That couldn’t be denied, so for that reason she did another search, but just like before she found only one: Lindell, Leif Torsten, in Lost and Found.
“I’m sorry, but there’s no Ann Lindell in the building. What does this concern?”
“Knock it off, damn it! I’ve got to talk with her. Does she want to be anonymous, or what?”
“That tone isn’t much help,” said Regina, who was from a village in north Uppland, where people talk that way.
A few seconds passed. The man was breathing heavily into the receiver, as if he was jogging with the phone in his hand. Regina heard a clanging tone in the background, like the insistent, disquieting sound when the gate goes down at a train crossing.
“It’s … Someone may die.”
The alarming clang became more and more intense.
“I have to talk with her. She’s the only one who listens. Someone may die.”
“I’ll transfer you to the Violent Crimes Unit.”