Anger Mode (37 page)

“Is it about all that stuff on the internet?”

“No,” Jonna lied instinctively. “It has nothing to do with it.”

“There was someone else who called and asked about Mum a while ago. He asked why I was always at home.”

“Really?” Jonna said, confused. “How did you answer?”

“With the truth; that I was sick with a chest infection. He said his name, but Mum didn’t know who he was.”

“Was his name Leo?” Jonna asked, feeling her pulse quicken.

“No, it was like Lars or Leif. He called one more time.”

“What did he say then?”

“Mum said she’s going to quit …”

“Do you think your father knows the number of any of your mum’s beekeeper friends?” Jonna interrupted politely but firmly.

“Maybe,” she said after a little hesitation. “But he’s in Canada for some business meeting. Called him a little while ago, but just got voicemail. It’s night-time over there, I guess.”

“Probably is,” Jonna said.

She finished the conversation with Elina by giving her telephone number in case her mother got in touch. She felt sorry for the girl. Obviously, the various doomsday stories in the newspapers had worried her. By whatever means necessary, she had to get hold of Tuva Sahlin before it was too late.

What could be better than a cruise ship full of partying people, constantly filling their plates from the buffet table and drinking large numbers of alcoholic drinks? How easy it would be to drug someone by slipping the compound into a drink or into the food. Towards the early hours of the morning when the intoxication of the guests was at its strongest.

A packed cruise ferry was perfect.

The catch was that no one from Tuva’s family was on board. The aim of killing a family member would be lost, unless one of the beekeepers was dearer to her than her family, which did not seem probable. But then Jonna realized that because the daughter was home all the time, he would not be able to get into the house to poison the food. It must have been Leo Brageler who called and pretended to be someone else.

Jonna looked at the clock. Quarter to six. She could call the shipping company and ask the staff to look for Tuva before she boarded. But the shipowners would want to call her back at the police station in case it was a hoax call. Jonna’s mobile-phone number would not be good enough.

“TIME BOMB!” WALTER cried, looking at Jonna, who was about to leave the room with Jörgen.

Jonna turned round. “Time bomb?” she repeated, looking at Walter.

At first, she understood nothing, and then she realized what he meant.

“The compound has a delayed effect,” she said, gazing absently around the room. “What if he can control when the process starts? Like a time bomb?” She looked right through Walter, as if he was transparent.

“Exactly,” he said. “Definitely a possibility. She gets poisoned on the ship and comes home after a twenty-four-hour cruise just in time to have a fit of rage. If her husband is not at home, her daughter is in real danger. Leo Brageler knows precisely when the ship arrives and how much time it takes for Tuva to get home. If that is his plan. It could also be to start a massacre on board the ship.” Walter checked himself when he saw Jonna’s distraught expression. “But don’t get bogged down in that now. Remember to lock the woman in her cabin until you’ve got back. Don’t let her out of your sight and don’t let her eat or drink anything.”

“But then what?” Jörgen said, agitated. Things were starting to speed up now. He felt the adrenaline pumping round his body. “What happens when we’ve got hold of her? We can’t call the real police?”

“The real police?” Walter snorted. “Mind your language. Madame Chief Prosecutor, who owns the investigation, is my next task,” he said, smiling mischieviously. “In the next few hours, I’ll be using a great quantity of brain cells to create a happy ending to this story. Or, at least, a less unhappy one.”

Jonna did not hear the last comment. She had already rushed out of the room, with Jörgen close behind her.

THOMAS KOKK AND Agency Director Anders Holmberg had – together with Chief Prosecutor Åsa Julén, the Prosecutor-General, and the National Chief of Police – met a bunch of ministers from the government.

All the ministers, including the Prime Minister, insisted that SÄPO continued with the investigation into Drug-X. Apparently, SÄPO had had a pep talk with some of them before the meeting. Hardly unexpected, Julén thought to herself, and started thinking about a counter move.

Holmberg and Kokk raised the question of whether it was still the best solution to allow the investigation into Drug-X remain with SÄPO, even though it seemed to be highly unlikely that the Swedish Islamist group was behind it. That a foreign power was the brain behind such an advanced compound was, however, more plausible. Therefore, it would set a dangerous precedent to allow the local police to investigate something that concerned national security. What would be the next step? To allow patrolmen to handle counter-espionage? Or let the Traffic Police to plan bugging operations?

The ministers unanimously decided that it was most appropriate to let SÄPO continue the investigation, and they made this “recommendation” to the Prosecutor-General and the Chief Prosecutor. One was forced, under current circumstances, to consider the best interests of the nation, as the Minister for Justice put it.

For a moment, the Prosecutor-General was about to fold. Julén saw the doubt in his eyes. He fidgeted and was obviously uncomfortable with the situation. Without the Prosecutor-General’s support, she would be out in the cold before she could blink. She needed to act straightaway. What she feared the most was the media, not the politicians on the other side of the table. The media had the real power, and sharp teeth too; she was not going to end up as the idiot prosecutor with no future.

Julén took command, making the Prosecutor-General very relieved.

She diplomatically pointed out that the general public would not accept more scandals in the current situation, and definitely not ministerial interference. Nor would abuse of power by any authority be tolerated – definitely not by SÄPO, who were already up to their necks in problems, the biggest being an internal investigation.

Furthermore, she could not guarantee that “details” would stay in the Prosecutor’s Office if they were forced to do something “unconstitutional”. The word “unconstitutional” was open to interpretation by the gathering in the room.

Julén’s colleagues at the Prosecutor’s Office suffered from an incurable sense of justice and would, in the event of coercion from outside sources, be difficult adversaries. An open conflict between law agencies could hardly be of benefit to anyone. Least of all to the politicians responsible for those agencies. They were normally the first casualties in such situations. She finished and closed her file with its Prosecutor’s Office logo. The Prosecutor-General also got ready to leave the meeting.

By distancing herself from SÄPO, Julén could save herself. She did not trust politicians. They changed opinions as often as she brushed her teeth, and SÄPO was so contaminated that everything they touched literally was fatal. If she was successful with the investigation using another approach, she could turn personal defeat into success. Turning her back on SÄPO now would give her problems in the future; she knew that. They would not forget a defiant prosecutor and losing her good name with them was a heavy loss. But the way things looked now, she had no future if SÄPO were still involved in the investigation. If nothing else, the media would see to that. So she had simply to choose the lesser of two evils: to get rid of SÄPO.

Before Julén left the meeting, the Minister for Defence, with a sheepish smile, took her to one side. He explained in a low voice that she was welcome to come and give a lecture to his generals, at a suitable occasion. She seemed to understand the art of warfare as well as did the military leaders. Perhaps, even better than most.

Julén left the meeting with a sense of victory. She had shown the nation’s foremost leadership how a true democracy should be run, as well as saved herself from a career disaster.

Now she just had to arrange for that lucky mascot Walter Gröhn to start working for her in the new investigation. To succeed, she would have to undertake a few “unconstitutional” errands that were, however, worth the risk. She started to go through the list of numbers she had written down.

IT APPEARED THAT things would, for once, be a little easier than Walter had believed. With eerie timing, Åsa Julén called Walter’s mobile phone just as Jonna and Jörgen were hastening through the door. Walter was not the type who believed in miracles. After Julén’s call, it was perhaps time to reconsider.

“I’ve been meeting with the Prosecutor-General, the National Chief of Police, ministers for Justice and Defence and even the Prime Minister,” Julén began, sounding upset, “as well as the Agency Director of SÄPO, and they all …”

“You seem to have your hands full,” Walter interrupted, finding it hard not to laugh. He was imagining Julén’s skinny body hanging on a cross.

“I’m starting a new investigation based on the memos from you and RSU. The Prosecutor-General is backing me up. What do you say to that?”

“Say … who me?” Walter played dumb. He knew very well what she was about to suggest, but feigned ignorance.

“If Lilja gives his approval, I want you, as soon as you’re able, to be my Chief of Operations in a new investigation.”

“I see,” Walter said, playing hard to get. “But what if Lilja says no, for whatever reason? I’m suspended because of misconduct. Internal Affairs and a bunch of bureaucrats have to change their minds before I can go back on active duty. That’s not going to happen with a simple press of the Enter key.”

“In this case, it’s an advantage when the police investigate the police,” Julén answered. “I’ve begun to investigate the possibility of commuting some of the charges.”

“Good luck with that,” Walter said. “And I really mean it.”

“I’m fully aware of what needs to be done to reinstate you to the force again. Furthermore, I’ve been around too long not to know how to make my way in the corridors of power, even if it’s against my nature to exploit that despicable system. But the situation demands that we use the most experienced investigators. And, unfortunately, you are one of them – even though I hate to admit it,” Julén explained in a serious voice. “We’re talking about confidence in the Swedish justice system. In particular, the agencies of law and order,” she concluded, with some irony.

“It’s up to you to decide what level of experience is necessary,” Walter added, without any sarcasm. “Why don’t you just let SÄPO investigate our theory?”

“Let’s just say that their credibility is exhausted,” Julén said.

Walter was silent.

“SÄPO is also fully occupied with sorting out their own problems,” she continued and tried again. “Of course, there’s a certain prestige involved too. I’m not naive. SÄPO will do all they can to prevent the investigation moving to the CID. They have already made this clear. I’m certain that the National Crime Squad will also try to get in on the game, especially if the investigation is thrown back to the local police. But it’s we at the Prosecutor’s Office who decide who runs the operational side of our investigation. If the subject of the investigation is important to national security, then we are forced to include SÄPO. If a crime crosses over county borders, then usually the National Police are involved. In this case, however, everything has occurred in Stockholm and therefore it should be in the hands of the County CID. I have the support of the Prosecutor-General in this matter. That is sufficient to move the investigation legally, now that the Swedish Islamist group is no longer suspected and it isn’t a national security concern. David Lilja and Internal Affairs just have to be convinced of your worthiness. But, as I said, I know which buttons to press,” Julén finished her long monologue.

Walter sank onto his bed and looked at the ceiling, deep in thought. Should he share what he and Jonna were doing? How would she react? And what would Lilja and Internal Affairs say about his discreet private investigation involving computer hacking?

It would probably not make his re-entry into the police stratosphere any easier, but he thought that Åsa Julén’s sudden humility made it worth taking a risk. At least, this time. When he did the maths, he realized that it was his only chance at a comeback.

C
HAPTER 29

“WE, OR RATHER I, am pretty certain who’s responsible,” Walter said and opened the floodgates.

The phone line was silent. Walter could almost hear the cogs turning in Julén’s brain.

“How can you know that?” she said, after a short pause. “There was nothing in the memo about that.”

“Because I’ve started my own private investigation,” he said, as if it was a normal way of doing things. That was partly accurate. It was his normal way of doing things. Following the rules was not high on Walter’s list of priorities.

“Private investigation?” Julén echoed.

“Due to a lack of anything to do while being laid up in hospital – where I’m doing fine, in case you wanted to know – I started my own investigation, since the idiots at SÄPO jumped in and messed it up and you turned a blind eye to our memos.”

“Started it yourself?” Julén cried out, astonished.

“No, I have two field operatives assisting me.”

“Field operatives?” Julén repeated, as if she did not understand the words.

“Well, I can’t get out of this bloody bed and I’m suspended. How am I supposed to run an investigation?”

“You just told me,” Julén answered sarcastically. “Who are your field operatives? Do they, by any chance, have names?”

Walter did not know if he should name Jonna de Brugge or Jörgen Blad or if he should cover up that part. He decided to put all his cards on the table, a gamble that not only exposed him to harm, but also Jonna. Her career could be over if the wrong people found out what she had been doing. He did not give a shit about Jörgen.

“One police officer and one journalist from
Kvällspressen
,” he finally said.

It took thirty seconds of background static on the phone before Julén came down from hitting the roof.

“I don’t know where to start,” she began carefully. “One police officer and
Kvällspressen
.” She lingered over the words as if she were trying to taste them. “I have to know the names of the field operatives who have knowledge of this. It’s important to me and the new investigation. I hope you understand.”

“First, I want to know if we have a deal or not,” Walter said. “No repercussions for what we have done. You will need to put that in writing.”

Once again, silence on the phone line.

“This was not quite what I had expected,” she finally replied. “A police officer, even from another department, I can agree to. But a journalist?”

She sounded doubtful.

“What did you expect? A fortune teller with a crystal ball?” Walter muttered.

“Is the intention that this will be published in
Kvällspressen
? Or what is the plan?”

“Part of it,” Walter said. “The journalist gets exclusive rights to the story and the opportunity to release his exclusive at the appropriate time. And I decide when the time is appropriate,” Walter explained.

“For what reason did you drag a reporter into this?”

“I made a deal,” Walter said. “He has information on a high-ranking police commissioner who apparently has dealings with some criminal elements. And we don’t want those on the force. Therefore, I agreed to an exchange of information.”

“How do you know he’s telling the truth?” Julén asked in disbelief.

“I also have some juicy evidence of the officer being buggered by said journalist. The police officer has been blackmailed by the journalist: confidential information in exchange for not publishing the photographs and video of their intimacy. According to the journalist, the police officer has leaked classified information as well as hired two villains to murder him.”

Åsa Julén thought for a while.

“What’s the name of the officer?” she asked.

“No names without a deal,” Walter insisted.

Once again, nothing but white noise.

“I must have all the details of what you and your field operatives have been doing. I need to see the whole picture to have a chance of saving you.”

“Let’s see,” Walter began. “I’ll start with the computer hacking into various authorities. We needed evidence to substantiate our theory.”

“Evidence obtained illegally is inadmissible in court. If you were thinking of using that for a conviction, think again. Just so we are clear on that,” Julén said harshly. “And computer hacking doesn’t sound very attractive or lawful to me. This is not something I wish to be drawn into. If you can’t produce your evidence in any other form, you should destroy it. You have more to lose than to gain.”

“You can get the evidence yourself,” Walter answered. “Completely legally.”

“Explain.”

“As a prosecutor, you can request all documents from Stockholm District Court regarding our Mr X and, with a few background checks on the criminal records database, you’ll have almost everything you need.”

Julén paused for a long moment.

After a while, Walter had to ask if she was still there.

“I haven’t heard anything about hacking or any other irregularities,” she said finally. “You have a deal. And you must destroy anything you have illegally obtained.”

“I want it in writing that you will not go after my field operatives. And that you will get me fully reinstated so I can get back to work,” Walter said. “I’m not ready for my pension yet.”

“I can guarantee the first condition. I’ll do what I can to achieve the second. It’s in my interest to get you back and into the new investigation. I don’t think you should overestimate the legal status of this private and confidential agreement. It will never stand up in a court of law.”

“I know. It’s mainly so that I can drag you down into the shit with me if you change your mind.”

WALTER EXPLAINED IN detail to Chief Prosecutor Åsa Julén what he, Jonna and Jörgen had discovered. How Leo Brageler was probably the person responsible for drugging the jurors and District Prosecutor Ekwall and how he had access to the compound. The motive was also known: apparently, revenge. They were still not clear on why he had used such a roundabout method. Julén had a theory that it would be very hard to prosecute him, since he had not directly participated in the killings. In the worst case, it might not even be possible to obtain a conviction for anything except grievous bodily harm for the drug. The compound was not classified as an illegal substance, so it was unlikely that he would be convicted for the murder of Malin Sjöstrand. The others had not suffered any injury, apart from mental suffering. Julén judged the legal position to be very complicated.

Walter also revealed the name of Folke Uddestad, which rendered Julén speechless. That such a high-ranking officer, the County Police Commissioner, had leaked information to a journalist under duress and, on top of that, was involved with criminals, she found very distressing. It would also be difficult because Uddestad had considerable influence within the police force and would not be easy to get to. If he was guilty, which Julén was still having a hard time swallowing. Sometimes, the long arm of the law did not reach all the way to the top, and it was not completely without risk to go after a county police commissioner. One single mistake and she would be finished as a prosecutor.

Using a function of his mobile phone, Walter recorded their conversation, and he made Julén repeat their agreement in formal terms. That was sufficient insurance, in case the woman changed her mind. If she decided to gossip about it, she would be in as much trouble as he would.

“I want you to send an MMS message with photographs of Leo Brageler and Tuva Sahlin from the passport database to Jonna de Brugge,” Walter said before they ended the conversation. “It would help if Jonna knew what they looked like. She should be on the cruise ferry by now.”

“I’ll see what I can do,” Julén said. “But you have to understand that it won’t happen overnight. To get you reinstated will take some time and effort, if it’s at all possible. I’ll start by requesting the information on Brageler from the District Court records.”

“Do as you wish. Just do it now, not later,” Walter said, hanging up.

JONNA LOOKED AT her watch. According to Birka Lines’ telephone service, she had barely fifteen minutes before the cruise ferry would depart.

Jörgen was in the process of fastening his seat belt when she made a racing start from the hospital car park. The acceleration of the Porsche pinned down Jörgen, who did not have his seat belt on, and he was wedged between the dashboard and the passenger door as Jonna took the curves with tyres screaming. His lips pressed firmly together in a line as he gritted his teeth and tried to steady himself with his right leg, while she zigzagged at high speed between the cars on the Centralbron bridge.

Behind them, the Boxer engine roared and then died to a whisper as the powerful brakes gripped the car like a gigantic hand. After five minutes of this, Jörgen was ready to throw up.

Jonna saw Jörgen’s white face and opened his side window. In the middle of a sharp left-hand curve towards the Slussen intersection, the vomiting began. Food debris of various colours sprayed through the air as Jörgen, convulsing, held onto the door. As they approached the traffic lights on Söder Mälarstrand, the traffic came to a standstill. Jonna looked at the time. They had eight minutes until departure. Two lines of traffic stood waiting for the green light. The space between the right-hand lane and the tunnel wall should be enough, Jonna thought. She spun the wheel and drove onto the pavement. The Porsche wing mirrors were bent backwards, with two bangs, as she scraped by the tunnel wall and the car at the front of the queue. Farther ahead, there was a van that was wider than the other cars. They heard a heart-rending, metallic screech as the outer railing scraped the paintwork along the side of the Porsche.

“Sorry, Grandfather,” Jonna said to herself once they had driven past the queuing cars, which were angrily sounding their horns. She catapulted out onto Söder Mälarstrand and glanced anxiously at the buckled side door. As long as it was still there, she was content. She moved into the bus lane and pressed the accelerator to the floor. The Porsche flew like a rocket. There was now a clear lane all the way to the terminal.

As Jonna swung into the Birka Line terminal forecourt, Jörgen was ready for yet another round of vomiting. She braked right outside the entrance and pushed Jörgen out of the car before he started retching again. He got only a few metres before throwing up.

Jonna could not wait and sprang into the terminal and towards the ramp that led onto the cruise ferry. She flashed her police badge to the guards and explained that she had important business to take care of on the ship and that she did not need their assistance. Both security guards looked at her sceptically at first, but then nodded and let her pass.

But then she remembered that she was babysitting and that she alone was responsible for Jörgen’s safety. She reluctantly turned around and saw Jörgen half-running, half-walking through the departure hall while wiping his mouth.

Jonna told the guards that Jörgen was a colleague. Unconvinced, they nodded, and one of them took out his walkie-talkie. She ran once again up the ramp, this time with Jörgen behind her, gasping for breath.

Seconds after they boarded the cruise ferry, the doors of the
Birka
Paradise
slammed shut behind them.

LEO BRAGELER SAT down beside Tuva and served them drinks from the tray. He gave the last drink to Tuva as if it was something special, just for her. Gittan cleared her throat and winked at Tuva, who blushed at her behaviour. Tuva accepted the drink and was just about to make a toast with the others when the man in the leather waistcoat appeared. He wanted to dance – even though there was no dance music – and Tuva was closest. The leather waistcoat clumsily took the drink from Tuva’s hand and tried to pull her up from her chair. She resisted and Leo Brageler moved between them. The leather waistcoat muttered something and then grabbed Tuva’s drink and downed it as a consolation. Leo frantically tried to stop him, but he was too late. The cocktail glass was emptied in one swallow. It was as if Leo had seen a treasure chest sink into the sea. He was completely dumbfounded and did not move until Tuva asked him what was wrong.

The man in the leather waistcoat belched and continued his hunt for a dance partner.

WITH HER BADGE in her hand, Jonna pushed past the queue to the cruise hostess. The surprised hostess showed Jonna to the information desk.

“I need to know which cabin Tuva Sahlin has,” Jonna said, leaning over the counter to look at one of the screens.

The woman behind the counter quickly keyed in the name, but found no match.

“Is Tuva Sahlin spelled as it sounds?” she inquired.

“Probably,” Jonna answered and cursed that she had forgotten to check Walter’s printout. They had been in such a rush.

After a while, the woman behind the counter shook her head. “No, there is no match for anything resembling that name,” she said.

“Could the cabin be booked in another name?” Jonna asked.

“We have the names of all the passengers, even the ones travelling without a cabin,” the woman said.

Jonna took out her mobile phone and called Elina. After three rings, she answered.