MemoRandom: A Thriller (46 page)

“Not long now, Adnan,” he muttered.

•  •  •

Natalie was huddled up next to the right rear wheel of the van. She felt in her pocket and took out the awl she had stolen from the toolbox. She felt frozen already. Her fingers were stiff and wouldn’t grasp the plastic handle properly. She ended up using both hands. A blast from the foghorn made her jump. The awl fell onto the deck and rolled away under the van. Fuck!

Off in the distance she could see the lights of the little harbor on the island. It wouldn’t be many more minutes before they arrived. She thought about getting up and hurrying back to the waiting room. But she had to delay the man and get a chance to warn David.

She lay down on her stomach with an effort and looked under the van. Her cracked ribs complained but she blinked the pain away. The awl was only a yard or so away. She stretched out her arm as far as she could and nudged the plastic handle. The sound of the ferry’s engines eased a couple of notches. They were almost there.

She crept a bit further under the van. Her chest was protesting louder now. She reached out . . .

•  •  •

The jolt was very noticeable. They must have docked. Atif turned the key in the ignition and put the wipers on full, front and back. Then he lowered the side windows halfway so he could knock the snow away. He glimpsed something in the right side-view mirror. He turned instinctively and saw the back of a light-colored coat and covered head. A member of the crew, probably. Pretty awful job to have on a day like this.

The ramp was lowered and the cars in front of him began to roll slowly off the ferry. Atif set off slowly after them in the van. As soon as he was on dry land he realized that something was wrong. The rear tires weren’t getting a proper grip on the snow, and the van was pulling to the right. A growing rhythmic thudding increased his suspicions. A puncture.

He pulled over and jumped out. The right rear tire was completely flat. When he crouched down to inspect the damage he discovered three neat holes in the side of the tire, right next to the rim. He frowned, then looked around him slowly.

•  •  •

The other passengers in the waiting room had already left down the staircase at the other end by the time Natalie climbed back up. She had to wait a while to try to thaw out her frozen hands on one of the radiators. She wished she’d kept her thick Lovika mittens instead of swapping them for the thin leather gloves that may have been dry but didn’t stand a chance against the
cold. Once her fingers had warmed up a bit she tried calling Sarac’s cell phone again. Still no answer. She didn’t have much choice, then. She had to get to the villa before the man in the van got there.

She went down the steps and crossed the ramp. The van was parked at the side of the cul-de-sac, right where she had to walk. The man from Gamla stan was crouching beside it, inspecting the punctured tire. Beyond him the taillights of the last cars were disappearing into the snow. Shit, she’d been hoping she could get a lift! The house was a mile and a half away. If she walked fast she could still get there first. Warn Sarac and get to safety with a neighbor. There was just one problem with that plan: she had to cross the cul-de-sac and go past the man with the van.

Natalie lowered her gaze, pulled her scarf lower down over her forehead again, and started walking.

The black 4x4 was standing in the drive. Sarac found Molnar and Josef in the kitchen.

“Did you come via Värmdö?” he said as he pushed his hood back and brushed the snow from his clothes.

Molnar nodded, then removed his unlit cigar from his mouth and spat a strand of tobacco onto the floor.

“And the others?” Sarac said. He pulled out a chair and sat down opposite Molnar.

“I’ve put them to work sweeping the terrain,” Molnar said. “Want to make sure Wallin’s people aren’t hiding in the bushes. By the way, is your cell phone turned off, David?”

Sarac nodded. “I switched it off before I caught the ferry back into the city.”

“Good, we’ll stick to short wave, our own kit, not the force’s.” Molnar put a small communication radio on the table.

“So when’s he coming, David?” Josef said. His voice sounded tense.

Sarac looked at the time.

“Soon,” he said. “Very soon.”

•  •  •

Atif saw the woman walk past ten feet away. She had a scarf wrapped around her head and wasn’t even looking in his direction. She was probably on her way to the parking lot a bit farther on.

He turned around and held his hand up to keep the snow out of his eyes as he stared at the rear tire. This was no ordinary
puncture. If it was, the hole would be in the tread of the tire rather than the side. And there were also three holes. Conclusion: someone had sabotaged his van, most likely on board the ferry.

He thought about the person he had glimpsed in the side-view mirror and tried to conjure the image again. Light-colored coat, head covered. Could it have been a scarf?

He turned around and looked in the direction the woman had gone. But she had already been swallowed up by the falling snow.

•  •  •

Natalie’s heart was pounding hard as she passed the van. The man was big, almost seven feet tall. He made her feel even smaller than she actually was. She fixed her eyes on the ground, pulled the scarf tighter around her head, and concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other.

The road ran along the north side of the island, right next to the sea, without any trees or bushes to give shelter from the strengthening wind. There was a faint rumble from off to the north, suggesting that the storm wasn’t yet at full strength. Natalie swore silently to herself. Jeans and a raincoat were completely the wrong sort of clothes for a task like this. But her padded jacket was both smeared in blood and covered with powder from the air bag. Besides, she’d hardly expected to have to go for a hike through a fucking snowstorm. She turned around, looking for car headlights, but couldn’t see any. She was already freezing; the cold was making her already stiff limbs even harder to control. Unless she wanted to return to the ferry, the nearest house was on the other side of the little bridge that connected the two islands. And that was at least three thousand feet away, if not more.

This was a bad idea, Natalie, really fucking stupid! Why the hell couldn’t you just stick to the plan and go back to Vaxholm?

•  •  •

“So, are you planning to explain or not?” Molnar said as soon as Josef had gone out to move the 4x4 from the drive. “How did you crack it, David?”

“Guess,” Sarac said.

Molnar gave him a long look, then leaned back in the kitchen chair.

“You managed to find the place you’d been using as your base,” he said.

Sarac nodded.

“It was only a thousand feet from my apartment.”

“Jesus,” Molnar said. “Did you find any account numbers?”

“Better than that. I found a whiteboard covered with photographs. A big web featuring everyone involved in the operation. Abu Hamsa, a guy called Eldar.”

Molnar nodded. His voice was eager. “Hamsa’s quite a celebrity. He’s got a finger in all sorts of pies. Money laundering, bureaus de change, and plenty more. Eldar’s his bodyguard slash crown prince.”

“There were others,” Sarac said. “A couple of biker-gang thugs. Micke Lund and someone called Karim, then two Russians. Zimin and Ivazov.”

“Lund’s Hells Angels, Karim Bandidos,” Molnar said. “Despite all the talk of them being enemies, they look out for each other and share a number of business deals with those Russians. Anyone else?”

Sarac nodded.

“A bald guy called Sasha. Head like a skull. I’ve got a feeling he’s a Yugo?”

“Serbian, to be precise. A real psycho, if it’s the man I’m thinking of. Have you got the pictures with you?”

“No,” Sarac said. “I cleared the room of evidence. Burned the pictures and notebook.”

“You did
what,
David?” Molnar straightened up.

“I burned the notebook.”

Molnar ran his tongue over his teeth a couple of times, and a little vein throbbed in his temple, but he said nothing. The radio crackled and broke the strained atmosphere.

“Why?” he said after a pause.

Sarac shrugged his shoulders. “No loose ends, just like you said.”

“But what about the rest of the information?” Molnar said.

“Just a load of meetings with encrypted sources, people I no longer remember,” Sarac said. “Worthless without the pages that were torn out.”

He leaned across the table. “The pages you tore out, Peter.”

The radio crackled again, no voices, just white noise. A dull rumble could be heard in the distance.

“What makes you think that, David?” Molnar was frowning.

“Because you wanted me to focus on the Janus list, and those numbers. Everything else was unimportant.”

Molnar raised his eyebrows slightly. “I thought we were agreed on that?” he said.

“Yes, that’s true,” Sarac said. “I was just as keen as you to find Janus. To
not trust anyone,
to
protect the secret,
just like it said on the note up at the hospital, and scrawled on my bedroom wall.”

“Sorry, but what are you talking about, David?” Molnar said.

“I’m talking about the fact that someone’s been manipulating me. Trying to steer me in a particular direction. Messages, whispers, notes, phone calls.”

“You’re starting to sound like a nutter now, David,” Molnar said. “If you’ve got something to say, I suggest you come right out with it.”

“What really happened on the night of my crash?” Sarac said.

“We’ve already been through that several times,” Molnar said. “You and Janus met Hansen. He tried to blackmail you, Janus got rid of him.”

“So it was Janus who killed him, you’re sure of that?” Sarac said.

Molnar shrugged. “It must have been. You realized you’d lost control of him, of the entire operation. You called the other three sources. Told them to get out of the city, that Janus might be after them as well. Then you took a load of drugs and called me. After which . . .”

“I had a stroke and crashed in the tunnel. Right in front of your eyes,” Sarac said.

“Exactly.” Molnar slowly shook his head. “Look, David, I’m sorry, but I don’t think this is getting us anywhere. You still haven’t told me who Janus is, or when he’s going to show up. The boys are on standby, we’re ready to roll.”

He nodded toward the radio on the table. “We’re here for your sake, David, to help you clear up all the loose ends.”

“To get rid of Janus before he gets rid of me,” Sarac said.

Molnar took a deep breath.

“We do what has to be done, David. You know that better than most people.”

Sarac said nothing, just observed the other man. Then he pointed at the radio.

“Can you call them all in, Peter? I’d like to talk to them before we get going.”

Molnar shook his head. “I’d rather have them out there, to make sure we don’t suffer any unpleasant surprises. Wallin’s gang, for instance.”

“Okay, that seems logical,” Sarac said. “How about calling them up, then? Make sure everything’s okay?”

“I’ve ordered radio silence,” Molnar said. “They’ll be in touch if anything happens.”

•  •  •

The shaking that had been bothering her for ages had suddenly stopped. Natalie knew that wasn’t a good sign. She had underestimated the weather and overestimated her own abilities, and she was rapidly coming to the end of her strength.

The bridge was there ahead of her in the darkness, maybe
just a few steps away. It was going to be a struggle to reach the other side. For the past six hundred feet or so a patch of woodland had given her some protection, but once she was out on the narrow bridge she would be at the mercy of the wind sweeping in off the sea. The sound between the two islands would act like a wind tunnel, making it hard even to stay upright. But she didn’t exactly have any better options.

The thunder was much louder now, and soon the storm would hit the island with full force. A shape appeared in front of her, railings on either side of the narrow roadway. The bridge.

Natalie got impatient and took a couple of quick steps, but tripped on something under the snow. She tried to get her stiff legs to react, to get her balance back. Instead she toppled backward into the ditch. The hard landing knocked the breath out of her and she gasped. The snow swirled up around her, little dancing flakes, slowly melting. They gradually formed a fixed white glow. Natalie covered her eyes with one hand and tried to use the other to get back on her feet.

A car, a car had stopped to help her! She caught a glimpse of a driver’s door opening, then a dark silhouette framed by the headlights. She got to her knees but couldn’t stand up. She felt hands lifting her out of the ditch. The headlights were still dazzling her. The man who picked her up was strong, and he carried her back to his car as if she were a small child.

She noticed that he was limping slightly.

“So, how are you?” a deep voice said in her ear.

At that moment she saw the vehicle that had stopped. A blue van with patches of brown rust, and little Christmas lights in the windshield.

“You wanted me to focus on the money, didn’t you?” Sarac said. “If I could just find out how Janus was paid, we’d be able to find him.
In the end it always comes down to money,
that’s what Bergh said the last time I saw him. He was right, wasn’t he? The whole thing’s about money, isn’t it, Peter?”

Molnar let out a low laugh and leaned over the kitchen table. “You’re probably going to have to explain what the hell you’re talking about now, David.”

“I’m talking about almost fourteen million kronor. Money that was paid into the two foreign accounts I had at my disposal. Money that I transferred the same evening I almost died in that tunnel. Money that’s the only reason why I’m still alive, Peter.”

More silence. Ten seconds passed. Twenty. The thunder rumbled. It seemed to be getting closer. Sarac leaned back in his chair.

“It’s going to be a fuck of a relief to get shot of Janus,” he said. “Ever since I woke up in that goddamn hospital bed people have been trying to get me to say who he is. To start with Bergh and Wallin were the most persistent, but they’re actually only incidental characters. It struck me that the ones who really want to get at Janus, the ones who are literally prepared to walk over dead bodies to find him, are the thugs in my pictures. Abu Hamsa, Lund, Karim, Sasha, the Russians. They’re all terrified that Janus might be someone inside their own organizations.”