by Jens Lapidus
PIERRE: ‘Sup, man, things are happening. It’s kickoff.
HUGO: What?
PIERRE: Call me on the burner.
HUGO: I get a boner when you talk like that.
PIERRE: Good for you. You’re almost a rich man. Call me.
TELEPHONE CONVERSATION 17
To: Pierre Danielsson (co-suspect)
From: Hugo Pederson
Date: 1 December 2005
Time: 09:05
HUGO: Have I ever told you you’re like a bathtub with the faucets left running?
PIERRE: Huh?
HUGO: Make like that bathtub, and spill.
PIERRE: Okay. It’s as simple as anything. Clean and neat, basically nothing can go wrong. Husqvarna’s going to make a profit warning. They’ll downgrade the value of their plant in China by more than 200 million as a result of losing official permits and pollution killing a few villagers around the factory, that kind of thing, and they’ll warn about lower profits in their North American division over the next year, meaning lower earnings pretax. Little Husqvarna is going to crash at least seven percent.
HUGO: Sounds like it’ll crash, but you can’t know how much.
PIERRE: I’m going to short the bastards anyway. But that’s not it, listen to this. Icahn is also preparing to short them, so maybe he’s heard the same thing as us. Once it gets out, it’ll lose a few percent just because of the bad news.
HUGO: Ah shit, when’s the press statement, then?
PIERRE: In two hours, when the Dow Jones opens.
HUGO: Christ, then we need to rush. Why didn’t you call me sooner?
PIERRE: Just found out. But this is what I’m thinking: a two-step thing. Short it now, then the press statement will be given, it’ll recover a bit ahead of the report, and we short again. Then, when it crashes a second time, we’re set.
HUGO: I feel like I don’t have time to talk to you. Need to call my bitch right now.
TELEPHONE CONVERSATION 18
To: Jesper Ringblad (stockbroker Nordea)
From: Hugo Pederson
Date: 1 December 2005
Time: 10:04
HUGO: Hello, hello. It’s me.
JESPER: Maestro Pederson?
HUGO: Precisely. And now I want you to listen damn closely now. We’re going to short Husqvarna B.
JESPER: Short?
HUGO: Exactly.
JESPER: We haven’t done that before.
HUGO: So what?
JESPER: I’m obliged to inform you of the risks of short selling. It involves selling shares you don’t own. In other words, you’d be borrowing Husqvarna B shares and selling them on the market. You would then have to buy back all the shares at a later date. If the shares go down in value, everything’s fine and dandy, but if they go up…
HUGO: Yeah, yeah, I know what shorting is. We don’t have time to chat. You need to get to work. I want one mill.
JESPER: You want to borrow a million Husqvarna B and sell direct? Hugo, are you really sure? You know there’s no limit to your losses if it doesn’t work out how you want? The shares could rise like crazy, and then your risk would be endless.
HUGO: Stop lecturing and get to work instead. Make me filthy rich.
JESPER: Of course. But I’m obliged to inform you of all this and to make certain checks. How can you be so sure about Husqvarna?
HUGO: I’ve been checking the fluctuations for that share, and it’s gone up too much. I think it’s going to fall. You know me, I’m a telepathic stock genius. I’m usually right.
JESPER: I know, ha ha. Okay. I’ll start hunting blocks, like usual, right?
HUGO: Right, but there’s one more thing.
JESPER: What?
HUGO: You’ve got an hour and fifty-five minutes. It needs to be done by twelve.
TELEPHONE CONVERSATIONS 19–25 (SUMMARY)
To/From: Pierre Danielsson (co-suspect) and a number of other stockbrokers and bankers in Sweden, Switzerland, and England (named in relevant appendix)
From/To: Hugo Pederson
Date: 1–7 December 2005
Summary: Hugo Pederson calls a number of brokers and bank employees in Sweden and other European countries and instructs them to short sell shares of Swedish Husqvarna B on his behalf. In total, they sell 3.4 million Husqvarna B shares. Icahn Enterprises gives a press release at the New York Stock Exchange at 12:00 the same day, detailing their view of Husqvarna B. The share price of Husqvarna AB subsequently falls by 8 percent. Through his short selling, Hugo Pederson makes upward of nine million kronor.
TELEPHONE CONVERSATION 26
To: Hugo Pederson
From: Louise Pederson (wife)
Date: 12 December 2005
Time: 16:45
LOUISE: Hi, baby, where are you?
HUGO: Just passed the bridge. It’s enormous.
LOUISE: Have you told the hotel you’ll be checking in late?
HUGO: No, they’ll just have to deal with it. Le Royal’s the best hotel in town, according to Calle, do you think they can’t handle a late guest?
LOUISE: Yes, I’m sure they can. Good for you. Where are you having dinner?
HUGO: Probably just room service. I’ll be tired, I’ve been in the car all day.
LOUISE: Of course. And you’ll be home tomorrow evening?
HUGO: Looks that way, Mousey. Quick in and out.
LOUISE: And you’ll have three million kronor with you?
HUGO: Yes, baby. I’ll have three mill, as we say in my world. But it’s going to disappear pretty quickly, you know that. Stacek needs paying for the renovation. And I’ve ordered a new car.
LOUISE: I know. We should also pay for a place on the Magnussons waiting list.
HUGO: What are you talking about?
LOUISE: You know, I’ve told you. I had lunch with Isabelle last week, and all she talked about was how you have to put the kids on the waiting list for Magnussons now if you want them to have a chance of getting in.
HUGO: But we don’t have any kids.
LOUISE: I want at least four.
HUGO: Oh?
LOUISE: Four kids is classy.
HUGO: Okay, but how much does this school waiting list cost?
LOUISE: They want a hundred thousand to reserve a place.
HUGO: A hundred grand? They’re insane. A hundred thousand for a place for a child that doesn’t even exist. I thought we lived in a social democracy, I thought schooling was supposed to be free. This isn’t the U.S., is it?
LOUISE: But our kids shouldn’t have to go to some local authority school.
HUGO: No, but surely the state gives Magnussons money? They can’t live on private fees alone?
LOUISE: I don’t think so, but we’re talking about a place in the line here.
HUGO: Okay, okay. Go for it then. Sign up.
LOUISE: Wonderful. But, baby?
HUGO: Yeah?
LOUISE: Is there any risk of you being stopped somewhere? I mean when you’re on your way back with all the money?
HUGO: No, no. It’s all cool. EU citizens don’t have any problems, Schengen and all that. I’ll be coming back down here in a few weeks to pick up more money. Don’t worry, Mousey. Don’t worry.
LOUISE: Okay, that’s good. But listen, there was one more thing.
HUGO: What?
LOUISE: Now that everything looks so nice at home, I’d like some art on the walls. I mean real art, not those boring lithographs my mom buys in Skåne. I was at Bukowskis’ Christmas Contemporary with Fredrika yesterday, and they had so many nice pieces.
HUGO: Contemporary, that’s all that modern crap, right?
LOUISE: Hugo, you don’t know what you’re talking about. I mean photo art. Really good stuff. I actually put in a bid on an amazing picture by a na
ture photographer called Nick Brandt, a majestic lion in the dust on the Savannah. Black-and-white, six point five feet by five. It’s huge, I think it’ll look great above the sofa.
HUGO: How high was your bid?
LOUISE: All you care about is money. I thought you’d be happy that I’m looking after our home.
HUGO: It’s great, Mousey, really, I appreciate it, but I’m just wondering how much the photograph might cost.
LOUISE: I don’t think we’re used to the price of art, that was what Fredrika said, anyway. She said that if you want nice things, you have to pay for them, that’s just how it is.
HUGO: So?
LOUISE: It could also be an investment. It might go up in value.
HUGO: What did they want for it?
LOUISE: No more than the new car.
HUGO: That’s not saying much.
LOUISE: Enough now. It’ll really look great in our living room. We can talk about it when you get home.
TELEPHONE CONVERSATION 27
To: Unknown
From: Hugo Pederson
Date: 14 December 2005
Time: 16:48
HUGO: Hello, my name is Hugo, I’d like to inquire about a work you’re selling in your current Christmas special.
UNKNOWN: Of course, which work did you have in mind?
HUGO: I don’t know what it’s called, but it’s a nature photograph, pretty big, by Nick Brandt.
UNKNOWN: Aha. I know the one. It’s called Lioness Against Rock.
HUGO: That must be it. What’s the reserve price?
UNKNOWN: One moment…let me just see…the reserve is 50,000 euros, or 470,000 kronor.
HUGO: Aha, they don’t come cheap, these photographs.
UNKNOWN: That depends on your point of view, but it’s a fantastic piece in my opinion, incredibly suggestive, with a clarity and a level of detail that’s almost impossible when it comes to wild animals.
HUGO: Now I’d like to know whether you take cash.
UNKNOWN: Cash?
HUGO: Exactly.
UNKNOWN: Mmm, normally we take payment via bank transfer.
HUGO: But I’d like to pay cash. And we’re interested in several other works, too. So I think we might count as VIP customers.
UNKNOWN: I understand. In that case, I think it would be best if you came in. I’m sure we can come to an agreement.
TELEPHONE CONVERSATIONS 28–48
To/From: Pierre Danielsson (co-suspect) and a number of other stockbrokers and bankers in Sweden, Switzerland, and England (named in relevant appendix)
From/To: Hugo Pederson
Date: 13–18 January 2006
Summary: Hugo Pederson makes a number of calls with co-suspect Pierre Danielsson and other individuals, as detailed above. Price-sensitive events occur with regard to a number of positions Pederson has taken in Swedish shares, resulting in capital gains for Pederson of c. 24,000,000 kronor. In these transactions, Pederson allows his share portfolio and even his property to be used as collateral. As such, he achieves powerful so-called leverage.
TELEPHONE CONVERSATION 49
To: Hugo Pederson
From: Pierre Danielsson (co-suspect)
Date: 21 January 2006
Time: 11:36
PIERRE: ‘Sup, ‘sup.
HUGO: How you doing?
PIERRE: I’m like the king of some medium-size European country. No, like the king of Bahrain or somewhere. Unlimited happiness and power.
HUGO: You got something in the works?
PIERRE: Not exactly, but I’ve been in touch with someone who’d like to deal with us.
HUGO: Deal how? What does he have to sell and what does he want to buy?
PIERRE: Information. He’s on a couple of boards, even listed companies, and he’s in several important circles.
HUGO: So what does he stand to gain by helping us?
PIERRE: Well, if you look at what you and I have been doing over the past few months, I think it’s clear. He thinks we seem hungry, and he doesn’t want all his eggs stuck in the same basket, if you catch my drift.
HUGO: You idiot, did you give him details?
PIERRE: No, no, of course not. But he called me and we met for lunch at Prinsen yesterday, and he seems to have worked out most of it himself. It was actually pretty scary. I mean, if he can work it out, other people could, too.
HUGO: That sounds bad, but I don’t think we need to worry. We’ll just talk to this guy and I’ll spread the buying and selling between so many different brokers that no individual deals seem unusual.
PIERRE: I don’t know, but he wants to meet you, in any case. Feel like it?
HUGO: Can’t hurt. What’s his name?
PIERRE: We’ll get into that when we meet.
HUGO: Okay. Ask if he can do Monday. Same place you met.
PIERRE: Okay. Bye.
22
Nikola had been given Chamon’s phones by his poor father—sadly, they were worthless without the pass codes. Neither Bello nor Yusuf had any idea what combination of numbers his friend used. The whole idea seemed to be on the verge of dying. Whoever was behind the murder of his best friend would walk free. The days passed. They had already found out what Mr. One was being held in custody for: financial stuff, mostly. Without Isak’s leadership, Nikola felt weak.
George Samuel had called to pay his condolences for a second time. “You were so close, Nikola, aren’t you going to come back to work? So you can become a qualified electrician after all?” The old man was right—Nikola should have dropped everything to do with Chamon by now. Returned to his normal, quiet life. Done something to distract himself. But, at the same time: Chamon didn’t deserve that. Emanuel Hanna didn’t deserve that. Nikola would have to work harder instead, think better. Track down whoever was guilty.
He had to get into Chamon’s phones. The cops always managed it, those pros—they analyzed people’s phones. But, on the other hand: the cops clearly hadn’t managed to get in to Chamon’s, otherwise they wouldn’t have handed the phones back so quickly. Nikola had heard about it before: when Apple and Android introduced six-digit pass codes, the phones became virtually uncrackable. So he tried every combination he could think of. Chamon’s birthday, his parents’ birthdays, the entry code for his friend’s door. Nothing worked. Then he remembered someone who might be able to help him—Loke Odensson, Teddy’s friend from the slammer.
Loke: when Nikola met him for the first time a few years earlier, he had made up his mind in a split second—the man was a half-shady, utterly nerdy, real-life loser. A middle-aged Swede who looked like he listened to hard rock and played League of Legends all night. But Nikola knew differently now. Loke Odensson had helped him before: he wasn’t just a death metaller. He was also an excellent cell phone cracker.
Loke agreed to meet him in Kungsholmen. Dragon’s Lair, the sign above the door read in elaborate script. It was some kind of shop or gaming joint: not video games, poker, or Jack Vegas, but Lord of the Rings–type stuff—like Monopoly but with fantasy figures. There were small, painted metal figurines everywhere, on miniature landscapes in glass cases. Two-inch-high knights attacking a red dragon with outspread wings. A whole army of orc-like fighters in dirty chain mail, lined up opposite as many long-haired figures with pointy ears and bows and arrows that no one but a child could have painted: no one with full-size fingers would have been able to paint the feathers on the arrows so well.
Nikola had Chamon’s two phones in his pocket.
There wasn’t a single woman inside the shop, and yet Nikola found himself thinking about Roksana, the girl he had eaten lunch with the other day. He couldn’t quite explain it, but he felt slightly guilty at not having helped her deal with the losers who were trying to blackmail her into paying them. Still: he had to focus on his own problems now; that was just ho
w it was.
Down in the basement, countless wars were being fought. Everywhere: slightly overweight guys in backward caps and black T-shirts with the same kind of script on them. They were chill. All as white as Extra gum. There were a number of large tables covered with the same kind of fantasy landscapes Nikola had seen upstairs, only bigger. The men had set out even more painted figurines. The room smelled of spray paint and sweat. He didn’t care what they were up to; it was so lame that he didn’t even have the energy to check.
Loke was hunched over the table farthest away. His beard was plaited and he had at least seven earrings in each ear. In one hand, he was holding five white dice, and in the other a folding ruler. He didn’t react when Nikola paused mere inches away from him.
“What do you need?”
Loke looked up. Smiled. “Hi there, little shrimp, good to see you here. I need sixes. These Deathwatch soldiers need to move that way, you see?”
Nikola didn’t see. But he knew what Loke was like. He had even heard him call Teddy little darling.
“Let me try,” Nikola said.
He cast the five dice onto the table. Each one showed a six.
“Little sweetie, I almost love you more than your uncle,” Loke shouted.
* * *
—
A few days later, Loke called Nikola.
“Hi, sweetie.”
“Hi, Loke.”
“They’ve started making things more difficult for us.”
“Who?”
“The phone manufacturers. They’ve started using six-digit codes. No wonder the police couldn’t do it. They’re practically impossible to crack.”
Nikola bit his nail.
Loke continued: “Unless your name is Loke Odensson, that is. Anything’s possible then.”
“So you managed to unlock them?”
“Yep, both. Not that there was anything interesting on them. They were practically unused.”
“Doesn’t surprise me. Chamon changed his phones pretty often.”