The Sandman

  “We have very little time,” Nathan Pollock says.

  “The worst-case scenario is that Felicia has already been abandoned,” Joona says, unable to conceal the anxiety in his voice.

  “What do you mean?” Saga asks.

  “One possible explanation for why Mikael was able to escape is that Jurek’s accomplice is ill, or—”

  “He could have died, or he might just have taken off,” Carlos interjects.

  “We aren’t going to make it in time,” Saga whispers.

  “We have to,” Carlos says.

  “If Felicia doesn’t have access to water, there’s nothing we can do—she’ll die today or tomorrow,” Pollock says. “If she’s as ill as Mikael, she probably won’t survive more than another week, but at least that gives us a chance. Even if the odds are very low.”

  “If she’s only having to go without food, we may have three or four weeks,” Verner says.

  “We have so little to go on,” Joona says. “We don’t know if the accomplice is continuing as if nothing’s happened, or if he’s buried Felicia alive. All we know is that she was still there when Mikael escaped.”

  “I can’t take this,” Carlos says, getting to his feet. “I just want to cry when I think—”

  “We don’t have time for tears at the moment,” Verner interrupts.

  “All I’m trying to say is—”

  “I know, I feel the same,” Verner says, raising his voice. “But in just over an hour, the Prison Service Committee will hold an extraordinary meeting to make the official decision to move patients to the secure unit at Löwenströmska, so—”

  “I don’t even know what I’m supposed to be doing,” Saga says.

  “By then, we need to have your new identity settled,” Verner goes on. “We need to have your medical history completed, and the forensic psychology report. The District Court judgment will have to be added to the National Judiciary Administration database, and your temporary transfer to Karsudden needs to be organized.”

  “We’d better get a move on,” Pollock says.

  “But Saga wants to know what the mission is,” Joona says.

  “It’s just that it’s difficult for me to…I mean, how can I have an opinion about what you’re discussing if I don’t even know what’s expected of me?” Saga says.

  “We can still cancel the operation,” says Verner.

  “No. It’s not that. I understand that I have to take care of myself,” Saga answers.

  “On your first day, you’ll need to place a tiny microphone in the dayroom, with a receiver and transmitter,” Verner says.

  “That sounds risky.”

  “There’s no way for us to do it for you. No matter how we arrange it, with a fake repair of the ventilation system or something like that, it would still be suspicious in combination with the arrival of the new patient,” explains Joona.

  “And then it would all be over,” Saga says.

  “All security cameras in the bunker are connected to a separate control room, which is absolutely impossible for us to hack,” says Pollock.

  “Do you mean that our people can’t—”

  “Listen, it’s not a wireless network. It’s a closed system of cables in the concrete walls. There’s no way to get access in the time frame we have.”

  “I see,” Saga says quietly.

  “You have to make him talk,” says Pollock, and hands her a plastic folder containing the microphone.

  “Smuggled in up my backside?” she asks.

  “No, they’re bound to conduct a full body-cavity search,” Verner replies.

  “You need to swallow it, then vomit it back up before it reaches your duodenum, and if necessary swallow it again,” Pollock explains.

  “Never leave it in longer than four hours,” Verner says.

  “And I continue to do this until I have a chance to plant it in the common room,” Saga says.

  “We’re going to have people positioned in a van who’ll be listening to everything in real time,” Pollock says.

  “Okay, I get that part,” Saga says. “But giving me a District Court conviction, a whole bunch of psychiatric evaluations, and all that—”

  “We need that because—”

  “Let me finish,” she interrupts. “I’ll have a coherent background, I’ll be in the right place, and I’ll plant the microphone, but…”

  The look in her eyes is hard and her lips are pale as she looks at each of them in turn.

  “But why the hell would Jurek Walter tell me anything?”

  64

  Nathan is standing up, Carlos has both hands over his face, and Verner is fiddling with his cell phone.

  “I don’t understand why Jurek Walter would talk to me,” Saga repeats.

  “Obviously, we’re taking a chance,” Joona says.

  “In the unit, there are three separate secure rooms. That’s why the facility can be coed. The secure rooms open out into is a shared dayroom containing a treadmill and a television concealed behind reinforced glass,” Verner explains. “Jurek has been held in isolation for thirteen years, so I don’t know how much the dayroom has been used.”

  Nathan Pollock pushes the floor plan of the secure unit over and points out Jurek’s room and the dayroom next to it.

  “If we’re really unlucky, the staff won’t allow the patients to see each other, and then there would be nothing we can do,” Carlos admits.

  “As we said, it’s too dangerous to involve the hospital personnel,” Joona says.

  “I understand,” Saga says. “But I’m thinking more about the fact that I have no idea, not a fucking clue, how I might approach Jurek if I actually do meet him.”

  “You’re going to ask to see a representative from the administrative court and demand a fresh risk assessment,” Carlos says.

  “Why?”

  “Jurek is looking for any way to reach outside the isolation,” Joona answers.

  “He himself is hemmed in by restrictions,” Pollock says. “So he’ll be watching you closely, and will probably ask questions, seeing as your visit will be a sort of window on the world.”

  “What should I expect from him? What does he want?” Saga says.

  “He wants to escape,” Joona responds firmly.

  “Escape?” Carlos repeats incredulously, tapping a pile of reports. “He hasn’t made a single attempt to escape in all the time he’s—”

  “He won’t try if he knows he won’t succeed,” Joona says.

  “And you think he’ll say something under these circumstances that could lead you to the capsule?” Saga asks, with no effort to hide her skepticism.

  “We now know that Jurek has an accomplice, which means that he at least has the capacity to trust other people,” Joona says.

  “So he’s not paranoid,” Pollock adds.

  Saga smiles. “That does make things easier.”

  “None of us imagines that Jurek’s going to confess just like that,” Joona says. “But if you can persuade him to talk, sooner or later he might say something that can get us closer to Felicia.”

  “You’ve spoken to him,” Saga says to Joona.

  “Yes, he talked to me because he was hoping I’d change my testimony, but he never got close to anything personal.”

  “So why would he with me?”

  “Because you’re exceptional,” Joona replies, looking her straight in the eye.

  65

  Saga gets up and wraps her arms around herself, looking at the sleet through the window.

  “Our most difficult task right now is justifying the transfer to the secure unit at Löwenströmska, while simultaneously selecting a crime and a diagnosis that won’t lead to heavy medication,” Verner says.

  “The whole mission will probably fail if you’re put in a straitjacket or given electroconvulsive therapy,” Pollock says bluntly.

  “Shit,” she whispers, and turns to face them again.

  “Jurek’s an intelligent man,” Joona says. “It’s not ea
sy to manipulate him, and it will be very dangerous to lie to him. But he doesn’t have a lust for murder. He does not kill for pleasure.”

  “We need to create a perfect identity,” Verner says, his eyes fixed on Saga.

  “I’ve been giving this some thought, and I think it makes sense to give you a schizophrenic personality disorder,” Pollock says, peering at her with his narrow black eyes.

  “Will that be enough?” Carlos asks.

  “If we throw in recurrent psychotic attacks with violent outbursts…”

  “Okay.” Saga nods, but her cheeks start to blush red.

  “You’re kept calm with eight milligrams of Trilafon three times a day,” he says.

  “Just how dangerous is this mission?” Verner eventually asks, seeing as Saga hasn’t posed the question.

  “Jurek is extremely dangerous, the other patient who’ll be arriving at the same time as Saga is also dangerous, and we’ll have no control over her treatment once she’s there,” Pollock says.

  “So you can’t guarantee the safety of my agent?” Verner says.

  “No,” Carlos replies.

  “You’re aware of this, Saga?” Verner asks.

  “Yes.”

  “Only a very select group will know about this mission, and we won’t have any visuals of what’s going on inside the secure unit,” Pollock says. “So, if for some reason we don’t hear you over the microphone, we’ll break off the mission after twenty-four hours—but until then you’ll have to take care of yourself.”

  Joona puts the detailed plan of the secure unit in front of Saga and points at the dayroom with his pen.

  “As you can see, there are security locks here and three automated doors there,” Joona says. “It won’t be easy, but in an emergency you could try to barricade yourself in here, or possibly also here or here. And if you’re outside the security lock, the operations room and this storeroom are clearly the best options.”

  “Is it possible to get past this passageway?” she asks, pointing.

  “Yes, but not here,” he says, crossing off the doors that can’t be forced without cards and codes.

  “Lock yourself in and wait for help.”

  Carlos starts to leaf through the papers on the table.

  “But if something goes wrong at a later point, I want to show you—”

  “Hang on a minute,” Joona interrupts. “Have you memorized the plan?”

  “Yes,” Saga says.

  Carlos pulls out the large map of the area surrounding the hospital.

  “If the situation requires, we’ll be sending emergency vehicles from here,” he says, indicating the road behind the hospital. “We’ll stop here, next to the big exercise yard. But if you can’t make it there, go up into the forest till you get to this point.”

  “Good,” she says.

  “The response units will probably go in here and through the drains, depending on the nature of the alarm.”

  “As long as you don’t blow your cover, we can get you out and everything will be back to normal,” Verner says. “Nothing will have happened. We’ll change the National Judiciary Administration records back to the way they were before. You’ll have no criminal conviction and will never have received treatment anywhere.”

  A silence fills the room. It had suddenly become apparent how minuscule their chance of success was. “How many of you think my mission is actually going to succeed?” Saga asks quietly.

  Carlos nods uncertainly and mutters something.

  Joona just shakes his head.

  “Maybe,” Pollock says. “But it will be difficult—and dangerous.”

  “Do your best,” Verner says, putting his hand on her shoulder for a moment.

  66

  Saga takes Nathan Pollock’s comprehensive character profile into a pink bedroom with pictures of teen pop stars on the walls. Fifteen minutes later, she returns to the kitchen. She walks slowly, and stops in the middle of the floor. The shadows of her long eyelashes dance on her cheeks. The men fall silent and turn their heads to look at the slender figure with the shaved head.

  “My name is Natalie Andersson, and I have schizophrenic personality disorder, which makes me a bit of an introvert,” she says, sitting down on a chair. “But I’ve also had recurrent psychotic episodes, with some extremely violent outbursts. That’s why I’ve been prescribed Trilafon. I’m okay at the moment with eight milligrams, three times a day. The pills are small and white, and they make my breasts so sore I can’t sleep on my front. I also take Cipramil, thirty milligrams, or Seroxat, twenty milligrams.”

  While speaking, she has secretly pulled the tiny microphone out of the lining of her pants.

  “When I was really bad I used to get injections of Risperdal, and Oxascand for the side effects.”

  Under cover of the tabletop, she removes the protective plastic from the glue and sticks the microphone under the table.

  “Before Karsudden and the verdict from the Uppsala District Court, I escaped from a nonsecure ward at the Bålsta psychiatric unit and killed a man in the playground behind Gredelby School in Knivsta, then, ten minutes later, another man, in the driveway of his house on Dagg Lane.”

  The little microphone comes loose from the table and falls to the floor.

  “After I was arrested, I was transferred to the acute psychiatric unit at the University Hospital in Uppsala. I was given twenty milligrams of Stesolid and one hundred milligrams of Cisordinol injected into my backside. They kept me strapped up for eleven hours, and then I was given a solution of Heminevrin. It was really cold, and I got all congested and had a really bad headache.”

  Nathan Pollock claps his hands. Joona bends down and picks the microphone up off the floor.

  He smiles as he holds it out to her. “The glue needs four seconds to firm up.”

  Saga takes the microphone and turns it over in her hand.

  “Are we all in agreement about this identity?” Verner asks. “In seven minutes, I have to enter it into the National Judiciary Administration database.”

  “I think it sounds good,” Pollock says. “But, Saga, this evening you’ll need to memorize the rules at Bålsta and learn the names and physical features of the staff and the other patients.”

  Verner nods. “You have to become one with your new identity, so you don’t even have to think before reeling off phone numbers and imaginary family members, birthdays, past addresses, dead pets, ID numbers, schools, teachers, workplaces, colleagues, their personal habits, and—”

  “I’m not sure that’s the right approach,” Joona interrupts.

  Verner stops mid-sentence and looks at Joona. Carlos nervously sweeps some crumbs off the table with his hand. Nathan Pollock leans back expectantly.

  “I can learn all that,” Saga says.

  Joona’s eyes are as dark as lead now.

  “Now that Samuel Mendel is no longer with us,” Joona says, “I can reveal that he had remarkable knowledge of long-term infiltration techniques for high-risk undercover work.”

  “Samuel?” Carlos says skeptically.

  “I can’t explain how, but he knew what he was talking about,” Joona says.

  “Was he Mossad?” Verner asks.

  “I can only say that when he told me about his method I realized that he was right, and that’s why I’ve never forgotten what he said,” Joona continues.

  “We’ve already determined the best method,” Verner says, a note of strain in his voice.

  “When you’re working undercover, you speak as little as possible, and only in short sentences,” Joona says.

  “Why short sentences?” Carlos asks.

  “To sound authentic,” Joona goes on, addressing Saga directly. “Never pretend to feel things, never pretend to be angry or happy, and always mean what you say.”

  “Okay,” Saga says warily.

  “And the most important thing,” Joona continues, “never say anything but the truth.”

  “The truth,” Saga repeats.

&nbs
p; “We’ll make sure that you get your diagnoses,” Joona explains. “But you need to claim that you’re healthy.”

  “Because it’s true,” Verner murmurs.

  “You don’t even need to know about the crimes you committed—you need to claim that it’s all lies.”

  “Because that wouldn’t be a lie,” Saga says.

  “Holy shit,” Verner says.

  Saga’s face flushes as she realizes what Joona is saying. She gulps, then says slowly, “So, if Jurek asks me where I live, I just tell him that I live on Tavast Street in Södermalm?”

  “That way, you’ll remember your answer if he asks more than once.”

  “And if he asks about my ex-boyfriend, I tell the truth?”

  “That’s the only way you’re going to sound genuine and remember what you’ve said.”

  “What if he asks what my job is?” she says, laughing. “Shall I say I’m an inspector with the Security Police?”

  “In a secure psychiatric unit, that would probably work.” Joona grins. “But otherwise, if you’re asked a question that really would give you away, you can always ignore it. That would be a perfectly honest reaction—you don’t want to answer.”

  Verner smiles as he scratches his head. The atmosphere in the room is suddenly buoyant.

  “I’m starting to believe in this now,” Pollock says to Saga. “We’ll give you your psychological evaluations and criminal record, but you just answer any questions honestly.”

  Saga gets up from the table and her face is calm as she says:

  “My name is Saga Bauer, and I’m perfectly healthy and completely innocent.”

  67

  Pollock is sitting next to Verner as he logs into the National Judiciary Administration database and types in the twelve-digit code. Together they add the dates when charges were brought, when the application to go to trial was filed, and when the main hearing was held. They classify the crimes, formulate the forensic psychiatric report, and input the fact that the Uppsala District Court found the accused guilty of two unusually violent cases of premeditated manslaughter. At the same time, Carlos adds Saga Bauer’s crimes, sentence, and sanctions to the criminal records register of the National Police Authority.