“Did he say why he wanted to know?” Fredrika asked.
“No.”
“Where can we reach him?” Alex said.
“I think he’s staying at the Diplomat. Hang on, I’ll find his phone number.”
As Peder searched among the papers on his desk, Alex asked:
“What’s his background, this Efraim Kiel?”
“I have no idea. I assume he’s some kind of security expert.”
“Has he mentioned anyone called the Paper Boy?”
Peder found the phone number.
“The Paper Boy? No—who’s that?”
“Just a story that’s come up. If you see Efraim again, you might like to ask him about it.”
Peder jotted down the number and gave it to Alex. “Are you going to contact him?”
“We’ll see,” Alex replied. “But I’d appreciate it if you didn’t tell him about this conversation.”
Peder knew he would do as Alex said. His job as head of security was to provide the community and its members with the highest level of protection, and Peder was no longer convinced that Efraim Kiel had the same goal.
“There’s something going on here, Buster. And we’re missing the whole damned thing.”
Eden Lundell had gone to see Säpo’s general director, Buster Hansson, armed with the surveillance reports. A Mossad agent whom Säpo had specifically warned off had entered the country for reasons unknown. He was a hunted man. Someone who was cocky enough to leave messages out in the open was after him.
Eden had warned their own surveillance team about what was in the message they had found, explaining that they must keep an eye open for someone who, like them, was following Efraim Kiel’s every move.
But so far they hadn’t picked up a thing.
GD, who was used to Eden’s temperament and outbursts, listened to what she had to say with an expression of concern.
“So you think there’s some kind of transaction between agents going on here?”
The skepticism in his voice was palpable.
“No, that’s not what I think.”
Transaction between agents? What the hell was that? Not something that was part of real life.
“An acquaintance in the National Crime Unit told me the Solomon Community has just appointed a new head of security,” she said. “That could well be why Efraim came over in the first place; he’s dealt with that kind of thing before. But the head of security is now in post, and Efraim is still here.”
“Is that so strange? Given his background, I mean,” GD said. “The Solomon Community has had a terrible couple of days.”
“Absolutely, but I don’t believe he told the community about his background, or what he does and who his real employer is.”
“So who’s creeping around outside his hotel room leaving him cryptic messages?” GD said.
“That’s what we don’t know. But since the message is written in Hebrew, and Efraim belongs to Mossad, I can’t help worrying. Either someone has followed him all the way from Israel, or someone here in Stockholm is monitoring his activities. Which means that person must be part of the Solomon Community, because he hasn’t met anyone else. According to the surveillance reports, that is.”
She took a deep breath, knowing that what she was about to say could be perceived as controversial.
“Which brings me to my next point. I’m not convinced that surveillance is one hundred percent effective in this case.”
Buster raised his eyebrows.
“You’re not?”
“No.”
She placed the latest reports in front of GD.
“Don’t you think he seems to be spending rather too much time in his hotel room?”
She spoke softly, taking care not to sound supercilious. Efraim Kiel had had completely different training from the agents who worked for the Swedish security service; it was only to be expected that he would be able to get away.
“You mean he’s leaving the hotel without our guys knowing?”
“Yes.”
“What else?” GD said, folding his arms.
Eden drummed her long fingers on the desk.
“I don’t think it’s pure chance that these anomalies coincide with the murders of the past few days.”
GD was taken aback.
“And how exactly do you believe all this hangs together?”
Eden sat back and pushed her hands into her pants pockets.
“I don’t know. But I intend to find out, because I’m convinced that there’s a link between the murders and Efraim’s stay in Stockholm.”
GD looked away, focusing on a point behind Eden.
“And how exactly are you going to do that?”
Eden gave him the only possible answer:
“I’ll do you the courtesy of not telling you what I’ve done until afterward.”
There was no one by the name of Efraim Kiel staying at the Diplomat. Alex Recht wasn’t exactly surprised, but it did bother him. The case was already complicated and wide-ranging enough; now they had an Israeli citizen who had officially entered Sweden in order to recruit a head of security for the Solomon Community but who seemed far too knowledgeable when asking questions about an ongoing police investigation.
“I don’t like this,” he said to Fredrika.
They were back at HQ, sitting opposite one another in the Snakes’ Nest. Alex had just finished a brief conversation with the hotel manager.
“Could there be a simple explanation? Perhaps the Solomon Community has much closer links with the police than Peder realizes. And that’s why Efraim Kiel knew that he should be looking for something the perpetrator had left behind.”
“You mean someone tipped him off about the paper bags on Lovön? In that case, shouldn’t someone else have approached Peder? Efraim Kiel isn’t even a member of the Solomon Community. Why would he get involved in the murder of a teacher and two boys?”
Diana called, wondering when he’d be home.
It was almost six o’clock. Alex had told everyone else that he wouldn’t be calling another briefing before the weekend, but there was one more thing he wanted to discuss with Fredrika before he left for the day.
“I should be there in an hour,” he said.
Fredrika looked away as he dealt with the personal call. She stared as if hypnotized at the snowflakes landing on the windows, leaving tiny white dots behind for a split second.
Alex apologized for the interruption and put down his phone.
“So you think it all boils down to the fact that Efraim just happens to be well-informed because he’s been given confidential details through the community’s own contacts within the police? I’m afraid I don’t agree,” he said.
“So what do we do? Do we try the phone number Peder gave us?”
Alex laughed dryly. “And say what?”
Fredrika ran a hand over her dark hair, making sure that no strands had escaped the thick plait hanging down her back.
“We say we’re contacting him with regard to an ongoing police investigation and that we believe he could be of assistance. We don’t have to confront him with a whole load of accusations; we don’t have anything concrete anyway.”
“You mean we make it sound as if we’re impressed by how astute he is? That it was very perceptive of him to realize that the killer would leave or send some kind of calling card?”
“Something along those lines.”
It wasn’t a bad idea. They couldn’t rule out the possibility that Efraim Kiel just happened to have an instinct for what might be important in an investigation. Peder knew nothing about his background; perhaps Kiel was a former police officer or had something to do with intelligence. In either case he would be well placed to be able to put two and two together and to draw conclusions which appeared to be unexpected.
“There isn’t necessarily anything odd about the fact that he realized the killer might have left something behind,” Fredrika said to underline her point. “I say realized, but h
e might just have guessed.”
Alex agreed with her in principle, but in that case why had Kiel checked into the hotel using a false ID? Or had he given Peder the wrong hotel so that no one would be able to find him? Either scenario didn’t sound like normal behavior to Alex.
His thoughts turned to Eden Lundell. She would have a much better understanding of why someone would be traveling on a false ID. Perhaps Efraim Kiel wasn’t even his real name. If he had a sensitive job back home, there could be other reasons why he wanted to keep a low profile.
“I’ll call him,” Alex decided. There was no reason not to. He dug out the number Peder had given him, picked up his phone, and keyed it in. He waited for Efraim Kiel to answer, but that didn’t happen. Instead a metallic voice informed Alex that the number was not in use.
He tried again.
And again.
He put down the phone.
“No subscriber on that number,” he said.
Fredrika frowned. Peder had once said that she looked pompous when she was thinking, but Alex didn’t agree; he thought she was a classic beauty.
“But didn’t Peder call Efraim on that number?”
“Possibly, but it’s no longer in use.”
“Maybe he’s left the country,” Fredrika suggested, “if he’s not at the hotel and he’s no longer using a Swedish cell phone.”
Alex knew that could be the explanation. It had taken a few days to take care of the appointment of a new head of security, so it wasn’t surprising if Efraim had decided to get himself a Swedish phone number temporarily. If he had completed his mission, then it was logical to assume that he had gone back home.
But he had told Peder he was staying on.
So where the hell was he?
“Eden Lundell,” Alex said.
Fredrika went from pensive to surprised.
“What about her?”
“I want to ask her about Efraim Kiel. She might be able to throw some light on all these elements that seem so inexplicable at the moment. Tell us what kind of background a man like Efraim might have, why he’s behaving this way. And whether she thinks it’s worth contacting him.”
“I didn’t realize you were still in touch with Eden.”
For the first time all day, Alex saw a hint of a smile on her face. It was a refreshing sight.
“Oh yes, Eden and I are like this,” he said with exaggerated enthusiasm, holding up two crossed fingers.
Fredrika burst out laughing.
“Alex, no one is that close to Eden Lundell!”
That was probably true, but he still wanted to speak to her.
At that moment his cell phone rang again. It was one of the IT technicians, finally ready to report on their examination of the boys’ computers.
“Can you come over right away? We’ve found something that might be important.”
• • •
Any progress in the investigation into the deaths of the two boys was welcome. Because of a leak in the roof, the IT technicians had had to move down into the basement; entering their office felt like visiting another universe.
Lasse, the technician who had called, showed them into a dingy room that smelled of dust. He switched on a desk lamp, then closed the door behind them.
“Look at this,” he said, handing them a pile of computer printouts.
They looked like extracts from an exchange of emails.
“That Super Troopers forum is interesting, to say the least. It was originally created by a man who’d made a name for himself as a so-called sports parent—you know, one of those idiots who’ll do anything to make sure his kids are going to be world champions at tennis or golf or chess or some other crap.”
Fredrika caught herself nodding. She had met parents like that.
“As you already know, the boys were members and called themselves the Warrior and the Paper Boy. They rarely participated in the same discussion, and judging by their input they seem to have been very different individuals. The Warrior wants to win at all costs, while the Paper Boy seems more interested in having fun.”
That fitted in with what they had been told by the boys’ parents. Once again Fredrika thought of the pictures she had seen of Simon and Abraham: serious and focused.
“Did they make any friends in the forum?” she asked.
“Not many, but there was one exception. Both boys were contacted by someone calling himself the Lion. At first they communicated briefly in the open chat room, then they moved over to email. And that’s where it gets interesting. Because if we’re interpreting their correspondence correctly, the Lion wanted to meet them.”
Lasse pointed to one of the pages he had given them. Fredrika quickly skimmed through the text; all the messages were signed Zalman, which she assumed was a first name.
According to the Lion, he was able to give excellent advice on how to achieve success. He said he was planning to set up a new tennis academy in Stockholm and had therefore started to look around for fresh talent in Sweden. He had heard from his Swedish contacts that Simon and Abraham had won a number of minor competitions and tournaments, and he was curious to know more. To Simon, who had slightly less drive to win than Abraham, he wrote that it was possible to win without being nasty. The tone was playful, the messages brief. All communication had taken place in English; the boys seemed to be pretty good at the language. On one occasion the Lion apologized for his lack of expertise in Swedish: “But I’m going to learn as soon as I move to Sweden,” he wrote.
Fredrika’s heart beat faster when she saw the date on which the Lion had suggested meeting up. Sometime between January 23 and 27. Now, in fact. The week they went missing. This was something they would have to discuss with the boys’ parents as soon as possible. They had to find out whether this meeting had taken place.
“Have you managed to find out who the Lion is?” she asked.
Lasse spread his hands wide.
“I’ve been working on it all day, but I’m getting nowhere. I even became a member of Super Troopers so that I could get closer, but the Lion isn’t on there anymore. I’ve contacted the administrator, but it’s impossible to trace the Lion.”
“Why?” Alex said.
“Because he or she has used different public computers every single time the Lion has been active.”
“Where, for example?”
“Places like 7-Elevens or smaller Internet cafés.”
“Give us a list and we’ll contact them. If we’re lucky, one or two will have CCTV and we’ll be able to get a picture.”
Lasse’s expression was grim.
“I can give you a list, but it won’t do you any good.”
“Why not?”
“Because all the places are in Jerusalem.”
All roads lead to Rome. But not this time. In this case all roads appeared to lead to Israel. Alex Recht was alone in his office; Eden Lundell was on her way over from Säpo to talk about Efraim Kiel, although Alex had chosen not to mention his name on the phone. He had simply said that a certain individual had come up in his investigation and he thought Eden might be able to tell him more about that person.
Fredrika had gone home. Alex had said he would call her later, because he still hadn’t had time to discuss his plan with her. He sincerely hoped she would think it was as good as he did; if all roads led to Israel, there was no point in the team setting off in a different direction.
Just before Eden arrived, he called Diana.
“Sorry, I’m going to be really late tonight as well.”
A laugh at the other end of the phone.
“In that case I’ll have a glass of wine in the meantime. Come home as soon as you can.”
“I will.”
And then, just as he was about to end the call, he said: “I love you.”
“I know.”
And then she was gone.
“I know.” What a way to answer, but a warm feeling spread through Alex’s chest, because he knew that Diana loved him, too.
&n
bsp; The sound of rapid footsteps in the corridor interrupted his train of thought, and then there she was, standing in the doorway. Taller than he remembered, glasses perched on the end of her nose. Messy blond hair and a thin smile on her lips.
“Alex.”
“It’s been a while.”
He got up and shook Eden’s hand. He had never seen a woman wearing so many bracelets, fine and chunky, on both wrists.
She sat down, crossed her legs, and looked around.
“You should do what we’ve done: knock down the walls and go with an open plan.”
Alex suppressed a snort of laughter. Several of his colleagues would rather sell their own children than work in an open-plan office.
“I don’t think that would be a very good idea.”
“People get used to it. Can I smoke if I open a window?”
Alex was so taken aback that he didn’t know what to say. Smoke? Indoors? She took his silence for assent.
“Thanks!”
In a single fluid movement she rose and pushed open a window, letting in cold air and snow.
“Lousy weather,” Eden said, lighting her cigarette before she sat down again.
“It’s supposed to get better next week.”
“Really?”
She raised an eyebrow.
“I think that’s what they said. The experts. But what the hell do I know—it might keep on snowing until midsummer.”
Why was he rambling on about the weather? There weren’t many people who had that effect on him, but Eden certainly did.
The smoke from her cigarette was making his eyes sting. Alex blinked and wondered what she did in her own workplace; surely she couldn’t smoke in a wide-open office? He suspected the answer was that she probably could. Eden did as she pleased.
“You asked for my help,” she said.
She was in a hurry to get home, of course. Her family was waiting and the weekend was approaching. Alex felt slightly stressed, unsure where to begin.
“You’ve heard about the murders in the Solomon Community?” he said eventually.
“Indeed.”
He saw a flash of surprise on her face.
“I’ve already told the community that I don’t want to get involved,” she said.
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