“Palmcrona was there. The money in his account must surely have come from bribes,” Joona says slowly. “But at the same time, Palmcrona did not authorize this deal. It would be impossible. He could never get it through—”
Joona is interrupted by the phone in his jacket. He answers, listens in silence, and then ends the call. He looks at Saga.
“Axel Riessen has figured out what’s going on,” Joona says. “He knows what the photograph means.”
74
a perfect plan
A lone boy made of iron, fifteen centimeters high, sits with his arms wrapped around his knees. The statue is located in the back garden of the Finnish church in Gamla Stan. Axel Riessen is three meters away, leaning on the ocher wall, eating noodles from a carton. He waves with his chopsticks as Joona and Saga walk through the gate.
“Tell us what you’ve figured out,” Joona says abruptly.
Axel nods, puts the carton of food down on the windowsill of the church, wipes his mouth with a paper napkin, and then takes time to shake hands with Joona and Saga.
“You said you understand what the photograph means,” Joona repeats.
Axel looks down, takes a deep breath, and then begins to speak. “It’s all about Kenya,” he says. “The four people in the box are celebrating an agreement on a huge shipment of ammunition to Kenya.”
He stops.
“Keep going,” Joona prompts.
“Kenya is buying 1.25 million units of licensed, manufactured 5.56 × 45 millimeter ammunition.”
“For automatic rifles,” Saga says.
“Supposedly an export to Kenya,” Axel says. “But they’ll never see it. It will be diverted to Sudan and the militia in Darfur. It suddenly all came to me. Agathe al-Haji is the buyer’s representative; therefore, it is for Sudan.”
“How does Kenya fit in?” Joona asks.
“These four in the box meet after the arrest warrant was issued. Right? We know because of the date this composition is being played. An embargo is on Sudan … but not on Kenya. And Kenya is nearby, located just to the south.”
“How can you be so sure?” Saga asks.
“Carl Palmcrona opted out of this tangle through suicide. This was his last job but he left it unfinished. He left it to me to carry out,” Axel says bitterly. “And I’ve promised to sign the export authorization today.”
“So it’s the same business deal, just with the name of Sudan crossed out and Kenya put in,” Saga says.
“It’s watertight,” Axel says.
“Or it was before someone photographed the meeting,” Joona says drily.
“Before Palmcrona committed suicide, all the work was done. They believed he would sign the authorization,” Axel tells them.
“And now they’re really uptight to find out he hadn’t done it.” Joona smiles.
“Everything’s left hanging,” Saga says.
“I was brought in quickly,” Axel says. “They practically forced a pen into my hand to make me sign the contract.”
“But?”
“I wanted to make my own decisions.”
“And you have.”
“Right.”
“And all the paperwork looked fine?” Saga asks.
“Yes … and I promised to sign and I would have, without a doubt, if I hadn’t seen that photograph and connected it with the Kenyan deal.”
They all stand quietly, contemplating the iron statue of the boy. It’s the smallest public artwork in Stockholm. Joona leans forward and pats the boy’s shiny head. The metal radiates warmth after a full day in the sun.
“They’re already loading the container ship in Gothenburg Harbor,” Axel says quietly.
“I’ve guessed as much,” Saga says. “But without export authorization, then—”
“Then the ammunition cannot leave Sweden.”
“They expect you to sign today?” Joona asks. “Can you delay it somehow? We’ve got to keep on with our investigation and releasing that cargo might hinder it.”
“They’re not going to just sit around and wait.”
“Tell them that you’re still going through the paperwork,” Joona suggests.
“Well, I can do that, but it won’t be easy. The deal’s already delayed because of me, but I’ll give it a shot,” Axel says.
“Keep in mind your safety, too. Our investigation is important, but—”
Axel smiles and asks skeptically, “Do you think they’ll threaten me?”
Joona smiles back gravely. “As long as they want a signature from you, you’re not in danger. But if you block this, they’ll lose an incredible amount of money. Just imagine what it’s already taken to bribe people all the way from Sweden to Kenya.”
“I can’t delay the signature forever. Salman’s been trying to reach me all day. These people know the field. You can’t deceive them too long.” Just then, Axel’s cell phone rings.
He looks at the display and grimaces. “It’s Pontus Salman again—”
“Pick it up,” Joona says.
“All right,” Axel says, and takes the call. They can all hear the staccato voice on the other end.
“I couldn’t reach you,” Salman says accusingly. “You know the ship is already loaded and waiting. It costs money to keep it in the harbor. The ship’s owner has also tried to contact you. They haven’t gotten the authorization form yet.”
“I am so sorry,” Axel says soothingly. He looks at Joona and Saga. “Unfortunately, I haven’t had time to take one last look at—”
“I’ve talked to the government officials and they said you were going to sign today.”
Axel blanks, his thoughts suddenly scattering. He’s tempted to just hang up. Instead, he clears his throat, apologizes, and then he lies. “Something else came up that required my immediate attention. I had to put this aside for a moment—”
Axel can hear how false his voice sounds, and he had taken too long to answer. He was tempted again to simply tell the truth: that there would be no export authorization because he now knows the truth about the illegal deal.
“We understood this would be completed today,” Salman says, not trying to hide his anger.
“You took a risk,” Axel says.
“What are you telling me?”
“Without my authorization there can be no shipment—”
“But we have … excuse me?”
“You had permission to manufacture the ammunition and there’s been a positive preliminary decision. But that’s all.”
“You understand there’s a great deal at stake here,” Salman says pleadingly. “What can I tell the ship’s owner? Can you give us any idea at all about how long the delay will be? He needs to know how long he must stay in port. It’s purely a question of logistics.”
“I remain positive. But I still need to go through everything one last time. Then you’ll get my decision,” Axel says firmly.
75
the bait
Saga Bauer has been jumping rope for fifty minutes in the police station’s gym when a worried colleague comes up to her and asks how she’s doing. Her face is sweaty and serious, but her feet keep dancing as if unaware of the quickly passing jump rope.
“You’re hard on yourself,” he says.
“Nope,” she replies, and keeps jumping.
Twenty-five minutes later, Joona comes down to the gym and sits on an incline bench next to a barbell.
“What a bunch of shit,” she says, and she keeps jumping rope. “They’re going to pump this ammunition into Darfur and we can’t do a damn thing about it.”
“Well, at any rate, we know what they’re up to,” Joona replies calmly. “We know that they’re trying to go through Kenya and—”
“But what the hell can we do about it?” she asks as she jumps. “Arrest that bastard Pontus Salman? Contact Europol about Raphael Guidi?”
“We still have no proof.”
“This is a big thing, much bigger than anyone realized. We certainly didn’t want to have anythi
ng to do with something this huge,” she reasons while the jump rope whirls around her and whacks the floor. “Carl Palmcrona is involved, Pontus Salman from Sweden … Raphael Guidi, he’s a bigwig … and someone in Kenya’s government, otherwise this whole deal wouldn’t work … and probably someone in Sweden’s government.”
“We probably won’t get everyone,” Joona says.
“The smartest thing would be to drop the case,” she says.
“So let’s drop it.”
She laughs at his joke as she keeps jumping with a serious expression.
Joona says thoughtfully, “Palmcrona has probably been taking bribes for years, but once he received Björn’s blackmail letter, he realized the party was over … so he called someone … probably Raphael … but during the conversation he realized that he was expendable … and he was even a problem now that the photograph’s existence was known. All the people investing in this deal wanted him gone. They were not about to lose their money and risk their situation because of him.”
“So then he kills himself.” Saga begins jumping even faster.
“He’s out of the picture, so that leaves the photograph and the blackmailer.”
“In comes the international hit man.” Saga is beginning to be out of breath.
Joona nods while she jumps with raised knees.
“If Viola had not been on the boat at the last minute, he would have killed Björn and Penelope and sunk the boat,” he says.
Saga does one last, fast burst and then stops.
“We would have …” she says, panting. “We would have written it off as an accident. The hit man would have gotten the photograph, cleaned out all the computers, left the country without a trace.”
“Though I think that he’s not the kind to be afraid of being discovered. He’s practical,” Joona says. “It’s easier to solve the problem without getting the police involved, but solving the problem is what he’s all about … otherwise, he wouldn’t bother to burn the apartments. This draws attention. He’s just being thorough and he prioritizes thoroughness above all.”
Saga steadies herself with her hands on her thighs. Sweat drops from her face.
“Of course, we’d put the apartment fires and the boat accident together sooner or later,” she says. She straightens up.
“But then it would be too late,” he says. “The hit man’s job is to erase the evidence and eliminate the witnesses.”
“But now we have the photograph and Penelope,” Saga says with a smile. “That hit man hasn’t solved the problem.”
“Not yet …”
Saga gives a few random blows to the boxing bag hanging from the ceiling and then looks Joona over. “During my training, I saw a film of a bank robbery and how you rendered the suspect harmless with a broken pistol.”
“I was lucky,” Joona says.
“Right.”
He laughs and she comes up to him, circles him with fancy footwork and then stops. She reaches out with open hands and meets his eyes. She waves at him to come on, waggling her fingers. She’s wanting him to take her on for a round. He smiles as he understands her reference to Bruce Lee: the waving hand. He shakes his head but doesn’t break eye contact.
“I’ve seen how you move,” he says.
“Then you know,” she says shortly.
“You’re quick and you’ll get in the first blow, but after that—”
“I’m cooked,” she answers.
“It’s a good thought, but—”
She makes the same gesture again, a bit more impatiently.
“But you will come in much too hard,” he says, amused.
“No, I won’t,” she says.
“Try it and you’ll find out,” Joona says calmly.
She waves once more, but he doesn’t seem to care. He gets up and turns his back to her as he heads for the door. She goes straight for him to land a right hook. He bends his neck slightly and the blow sails over his head. As a smooth continuation, Joona spins around and draws his pistol while taking her down to the ground with a kick to the kneecap.
“I have to tell you something,” Saga says.
“That I was right, right?”
“Don’t flatter yourself.” She glares at him as she gets up.
“If you head in too hard—”
“I wasn’t heading in hard,” she says. “I held back because I’d just thought of something important.”
“I get it!” He laughs.
“I don’t give a shit what you think you get or don’t get,” she says. “My idea is to use Penelope as bait.”
“What are you getting at?”
“I started to think about how she wants to go somewhere else and then at the moment I was about to hit you, I got an idea. I couldn’t knock you out if I had to talk to you.”
“So talk,” he says.
“I realized that Penelope would be bait anyway, whether we’d be involved or not. She’d lure the hit man to her.”
Joona stops smiling and nods slowly.
“Keep talking,” he says.
“We don’t know for sure if the hit man can listen in to our communication, if he can hear everything we say via RAKEL … but it’s probable since he found Penelope on Kymmendö,” Saga says.
“Right.”
“He’ll find her one way or another, that’s what I think. He doesn’t care if she’s under police protection or not. We’ll do everything we can to keep her placement a secret, but it’s hellish to protect her without radio communication.”
“He will find her,” Joona says.
“That’s what I was thinking. Penelope will be bait, no matter what. The question is: Are we going to be ready when he comes? She gets just as much protection as planned, but if we put the stakeout guys from Span to watch the place as well, maybe we can catch this guy.”
“That’s entirely possible. You’re thinking in the right direction,” Joona says.
76
the safe apartment
Carlos, Saga, and Joona are heading down the long hallway to Säpo headquarters. Verner Zandén is already waiting for them, and without unnecessary greetings, he speaks the minute they’ve shut the door behind them.
“Klara Olofsdotter at the International Prosecutor’s Office is in on this. I don’t have to tell you, this is a big stakeout for CID and Säpo. But who the hell are we trying to catch?”
“We know next to nothing about him,” Saga says. “We don’t even know if he’s working alone or if he’s part of a team of professional killers from Belgium, or Brazil, or even leftover operatives from the KGB or from the former Eastern bloc.”
“It’s not very difficult to listen in on our radio communications,” Carlos admits.
“This man knows Penelope’s being protected and it will be difficult to get at her,” Joona says. “But there are always small chances: at times a door must be opened, guards change, people bring her food, she’ll have to meet her mother, confer with a psychologist, and she’s planning to meet Niklas Dent from the NHS—”
Joona stops talking when his cell phone rings. He checks the display and clicks it to voice mail.
“Of course, our first priority is Penelope,” Saga says. “But even while protecting her, we feel we might have a chance to catch this man who’s murdered so many of our colleagues.”
“I don’t have to remind you that he’s extremely dangerous,” Joona says. “None of us will meet a more dangerous human.”
The secure apartment, at Storgatan 1, has a window that faces Sibyllegatan with a view over Östermalm Square. There are no apartment buildings across the street and the closest building is at least one hundred meters away.
Saga Bauer holds the steel door open at street level for Dr. Daniella Richards to lead Penelope Fernandez from an iron-gray police bus. Armored Säpo guards surround them.
“This is the most secure aboveground apartment in all of Stockholm,” Saga explains.
Penelope doesn’t seem to notice her words. She just follows Dr. R
ichards to the elevator. Security cameras proliferate around the entry hall and the stairwell.
“We’ve put in motion detectors, an advanced alarm system, and two encrypted direct lines to Central Control,” Saga tells Penelope as the elevator heads up.
On the fourth floor, Penelope is brought through a heavy door to yet another locked door, which yet another uniformed officer opens, letting them into the apartment.
“This apartment has tremendous protection against fire,” Saga says. “It has its own electrical generator and its own ventilation system.”
“You’re safe here,” Dr. Richards says gently.
Penelope raises her face and looks at the doctor with an empty expression.
“Thanks,” she finally says, almost soundlessly.
“I can stay with you if that’s what you want.”
Penelope shakes her head. Dr. Richards and Saga wait for a long moment before they turn to leave.
Penelope locks the door behind them and then walks over to one of the bulletproof windows with a view of Östermalm Square. The window is opaque from outside. She looks down and understands that some of the people moving about on the square must be police in disguise.
She slowly touches the window. She can hear nothing from the outside world.
The doorbell rings.
Penelope jumps and her heart starts to pound.
She walks over to the monitor, finds the intercom button, and presses it. The female officer’s face appears and she says that Penelope’s mother has arrived.
“Penny? Penny?” her mother’s anxious voice asks from behind the officer.
Penelope presses the combination to the door lock and hears the mechanism tick an answer before she can open the heavy steel door.
“Mamma,” she says quietly. The sound of her own voice drops into the apartment’s oppressive silence.
Penelope lets her mother into the room, then closes and locks the door. After that, she can’t seem to move. She presses her lips together and feels her body start to tremble. She forces all feeling from her face.