Furthermore, Hakim’s bitterness spilled over into other areas of his life. Anita, who had been such a role model for him, had been responsible for Liv ending up with a bullet in her. In his more rational moments, he knew Anita calling Liv in that night had been a legitimate professional request and Liv had been keen to help. And Liv had repeatedly said that he shouldn’t blame Anita. Nevertheless, he’d been annoyed that Anita had gone and seen Liv a couple of days before without mentioning it to him. Again, he knew he was being totally unreasonable. The fact that Liv didn’t lay the blame at anyone’s door only made it worse. He was mentally lashing out on her behalf. Why couldn’t he be as forgiving as the woman he loved? Maybe he should visit the Mosque more often.
The couple left the grass and walked towards the canal, hand in hand. It was a simple thing that he and Liv would never be able to do again. He pushed his head away from the glass, went back to his desk and stared at his computer screen again. There was the frozen street scene of Amiralsgatan that he had left a few minutes before. He would have to continue his search. Nothing else had emerged over the last two days that had given them any clue as to who was behind Peter Uhlig’s kidnap. Unsurprisingly, the gang hadn’t used the premises from the Mats Möller job. And Anita and Klara Wallen had drawn a blank at Trellogistics, though Wallen was full of how odd she thought Ann-Kristen Uhlig was. Anita had established a commercial and social connection between the Uhligs and Mats Möller, though they hadn’t been able to take that any further either. They’d gone through the list of employees of Trellogistics and MM Data, but no common denominator was obvious. That didn’t mean, however, that there hadn’t been someone who had worked at both companies in the past. Another of Anita’s ideas had also been looked into – Uhlig’s son-in-law, Frans Losell’s electronics business. His chain of stores was supplied from the electrical warehouse they had had under surveillance when the first kidnap had taken place. This had resulted in another dead end; they could find no connection. And all this negativity hadn’t improved Moberg’s temper. He was taking it all too personally as far as Hakim was concerned. So, he’d better try and find something. It promised to be a long Saturday night.
CHAPTER 11
It was Tuesday, May 9th. Just after 11am. Anita felt tense. It wasn’t only because Hakim was sitting next to her in an unmarked police car. She was awaiting instructions from Moberg, who, at this moment, was in the Uhlig family home. Their role was to follow Ann-Kristen Uhlig’s car at a discreet distance. The call was imminent. What instructions were the kidnappers going to give? She prayed that they hadn’t cottoned on to the fact that the Uhligs had reluctantly, though sensibly, contacted the police. The money had been collected from various sources, and the commissioner had been able to persuade a couple of banks to put it together in physical form – euros. The eight thousand 500-euro notes had been placed in a large, lime-green IKEA cool bag as requested. Why that particular holdall, Anita didn’t really know. Maybe the gang had worked out that such a container was spacious enough to carry that amount of cash. And the bags were common enough.
They were parked on the edge of Limhamn. On hearing from Moberg, they would follow Ann-Kristen Uhlig in her father’s bulky, black Volvo XC90. Moberg had had a miniature camera installed on board so that they could record Ann-Kristen’s journey and pick up any further instructions she might receive over her mobile phone – and hopefully see the kidnappers if they approached the car. Ann-Kristen had been briefed to try and get them within camera range if at all possible, though not to put herself in any danger. She was assured that there would be police officers on hand if any problems arose. Moberg’s plan was to be flexible. They would watch the handover of the money and then follow the kidnappers to where Peter Uhlig was being kept. They didn’t for a minute believe that Uhlig would be handed over at the drop site. On the other hand, if things went wrong, they would take immediate action and arrest the kidnappers, hoping against hope that the whole affair wouldn’t end in bloodshed.
The fact that she had been paired off with Hakim wasn’t helping Anita to relax. As usual, he was being uncommunicative. But if things didn’t go well, she was far happier having Hakim at her side – Brodd would simply be a liability. Brodd was to be Moberg’s driver – the chief inspector wanted to oversee the operation. There were at least three other unmarked cars involved. The silence was broken by Moberg. ‘Ann-Kristen’s on the move!’ he barked over the line. ‘But she’s in a different vehicle.’
‘Not the Volvo?’ queried Anita.
‘No. The bastards have told her to use her mother’s small runaround. It’s a blue Volkswagen Golf.’ He quickly gave the registration.
‘Do they know we’re onto them?’ Anita asked anxiously. The implications could be disastrous.
‘I don’t fucking know!’ he bellowed back irritably. ‘But they certainly know the Uhligs’ cars. Ann-Kristen’s only got forty-five minutes to get to the site so we haven’t had time to change the bloody camera. She’ll be passing you in a couple of minutes. She’s been told to get to Skårby by noon and wait outside the church for further instructions. Make sure you’re not fucking seen – and don’t you dare lose her!’
The line went dead abruptly. Already their plans were going wrong, and the pressure was telling on Moberg. Anita had a horrid feeling that things weren’t going to get any better.
‘Skårby? Why is that familiar?’
‘It’s just off the E65 before you reach Ystad,’ said Hakim. These were the first words he’d spoken since he’d got into the car. ‘It’s near the Ystad Djurpark.’
She’d been to the wildlife park before. It exhibited everything from emus to elks. Was it chosen because there would be a lot of traffic around at this time of year? And why the church? Would it be the first of many locations Ann-Kristen would be sent to before the kidnappers deemed it safe to pick up the money? Maybe it was a way of testing if there was a police presence.
Any further speculation was abruptly brought to a halt: ‘That’s her,’ said Hakim as he nodded towards the road ahead and a blue Volkswagen Golf appeared with Ann-Kristen in the driving seat. Anita turned on the engine and waited for a couple of other vehicles to pass before slipping into the traffic.
It took fifteen minutes to hit the E65. Anita wondered how Ann-Kristen was holding up. It wasn’t an easy thing she was being asked to do. Judging by her consistent speed, she must be coping. With a deadline, it would be tempting to rush in case she didn’t make Skårby church by twelve o’clock. Her father’s life could depend on her getting there on time. The traffic ahead was steady, so it was easy for Anita to keep an eye on the blue Volkswagen without having to get too close.
Moberg’s voice snapped into her thoughts. ‘Pontus will get us to the village before you reach it. There’ll be another car there too. When Ann-Kristen parks at the church, just drive straight past and then double-back and wait. But be ready – the buggers might be sending her all over fucking Skåne!’ Then he was gone again.
Now they could see that Ann-Kristen was speeding up. The situation must be getting to her at last. The E65 constantly changes from one to two lanes and back again, and Anita nearly lost sight of her when they were funnelled into a single lane and a truck nudged in between them. Fortunately, the second lane reappeared and Anita was able to nip past the truck; now she was only two cars behind the Volkswagen. As dark clouds swept across the sky, Anita hoped that the weather would hold; rain would only add to their problems.
‘The turn-off’s coming up in a kilometre,’ said Hakim quietly. There was a huskiness to his voice, which Anita recognized as tension. She was feeling the pressure, too, and her hands felt clammy on the steering wheel. She hoped the kidnappers weren’t armed. The likelihood was that they were; a thought that didn’t help to settle her nerves. Up ahead, she could see the Volkswagen slowing down and indicating. There was no oncoming traffic, so the Volkswagen crossed over the carriageway and onto a side road. Anita had to wait for an oncoming car before she, too, came
off the main highway. There was no vehicle now between her and Ann-Kristen’s, though there was a sizeable gap. The road was straight, and they were heading deep into the Scanian countryside with its open, undulating fields and little white houses, randomly dotted here and there like dice thrown on a board. There was a small knoll in the narrow road in front of them and Ann-Kristen mounted the crest and disappeared down the other side. They reached the gently curving summit shortly after and could see the village of Skårby ahead with its squat, whitewashed church set on an embankment.
‘No!’ she heard Hakim mutter. And immediately she saw the problem. A police officer standing next to his patrol car was waving down the Volkswagen.
‘What the hell?’ shrieked Anita. ‘What are they doing here?’
They could see Ann-Kristen pulling off the road into the lay-by next to the parked patrol car. Automatically, Anita slowed down.
‘We can’t stop now. Keep driving,’ urged Hakim. She knew he was right. They would just draw attention to themselves and further jeopardize an operation that already wasn’t running according to plan.
As they drove past, they could see a second uniformed officer get out of the patrol car. They reached another rise in the road and over they went. Hakim arched his neck and looked back. ‘Can’t see them,’ he said through gritted teeth.
Two minutes later, they entered the village with the old church and its impossibly immaculate graveyard on their right. In front of the church was a large parking area, which was deserted.
‘What the fuck’s happening?’ Moberg’s ranting voice burst into life. Anita had clocked his car in the archway of a farm entrance opposite the church.
‘She’s been stopped by a patrol car. Must be out from Ystad.’
‘The fucking idiots!’
‘They weren’t to know.’
The swearing continued until the line went dead again. Anita turned the car at a junction; the road to Sjöbo going in one direction and the way to the wildlife park going in the other. Just before the church, now on her left, and Moberg’s car on her right, she pulled into a space in front of a neat little house, next to where a large SUV, presumably the owner’s, was already parked. From this ideal vantage point, she and Hakim could see both the church car park and the road leading out of the village back to the E65. She turned the ignition off. All they could do now was wait.
‘What a bloody mess,’ she said, giving the steering wheel a frustrated thump.
‘Why have they stopped her?’
‘God knows! Some stupid traffic thing. As though they haven’t got anything better to do.’
It was then that she noticed another vehicle parked tightly against the wall of the church hall, positioned at right angles to the car park. It must be Wallen with one of the other officers brought in for the operation. She knew that everyone involved would be on tenterhooks awaiting Moberg’s instructions.
‘Where is she?’ This was Moberg again. His agitation was understandable.
‘Wait a minute,’ Anita said. A car came over the rise. Disappointment; it wasn’t Ann-Kristen in her Volkswagen. ‘Sorry. Not her.’ She heard Moberg curse again. A Saab packed with young kids and a harassed-looking mother drove through the village and turned off towards the wildlife park.
‘Anita,’ Moberg said sharply. ‘You’d better drive back out and see what’s happening. The fuckwits might even be taking her in. And we’ve only got three minutes left!’
Anita started the car up.
‘It’s her!’ said Hakim, pointing up the road. Ann-Kristen’s now-familiar blue Volkswagen was coming over the rise and heading down towards the village.
‘She’s coming!’ Anita’s relief was palpable.
‘Right, sit tight but be ready to move at a moment’s notice,’ ordered Moberg.
The Volkswagen indicated and swung slowly round into the car park. Anita could only see the back of the car – the others would have a direct view. She didn’t want to move her car any closer as it might attract attention. For all they knew, the kidnappers were somewhere close by watching them watching Ann-Kristen.
After they’d been sitting there for what seemed like eons but could only have been minutes, Hakim sighed. ‘What’s she doing?’
‘I can’t tell. The trouble is they might have seen her with the patrol car and taken fright. That might not be good news for Peter Uhlig.’
‘They’ll either kill him or ask for more money.’ This was the nearest they had come to a conversation in months.
They sat in silence for another five nerve-racking minutes. The only interruption was Hakim breaking open a bottle of water. He offered it to Anita first. Though she was parched, she shook her head. Even a drink would break her concentration. She’d already lowered the window in case she could pick up the sound of Ann-Kristen’s mobile phone going off. But she was too far away, and the odd car coming past didn’t help.
It got too much for her. ‘Is there any sign of anything?’ she asked Moberg.
‘Nothing,’ he growled. ‘She’s just sitting there.’
‘Are they on to us?’
‘Fuck knows. Look, Anita, wander over to the church. Make eye contact with Ann-Kristen. Anything to see if something’s happening.’
‘Are you sure?’
‘Of course I’m bloody not! Just do it!’
‘Not sure this is a great idea.’ She opened the door.
‘Don’t make your pistol look so obvious,’ observed Hakim.
She took off her holster and handed it over.
‘Are you certain?’ Hakim queried.
‘Don’t like the damn things.’
‘Be careful.’ Was there a hint of concern in his voice?
Anita sauntered up the road and approached the church as though she were a casual visitor. Or that’s how she hoped she’d come across. She felt anything but. Her hands were sweating and her mouth was dry. She deliberately didn’t glance in the direction of Moberg and Brodd, nor at Wallen’s car nestled next to the hall. She waited for a large yellow truck to trundle past before she crossed the road and onto the gravelled car park. A furtive sideways peek at Ann-Kristen didn’t resolve anything – Peter Uhlig’s daughter was staring straight ahead of her as though in a trance. She could see the mobile phone clutched in her hand. Anita walked through the gates guarded on each side by a short, stone post capped by a ball finial, whitewashed like the church beyond. Her feet crunched on the recently raked gravel path. It was virtually the only sound in a village that seemed devoid of people at that time of day. The burial plots each had low, beautifully clipped box hedging around them and were interspersed with carefully tended flower beds. Anita made her way up the slope to the church with its crenellated tower and red-tiled roof. Its restful simplicity seemed at odds with the complications of the human drama that was being played out in its shadow. Suddenly, Anita heard a car door open behind her and she turned to see Ann-Kristen ease herself out of her car. She caught Anita’s eye and shook her head. Then she pulled out a packet of cigarettes and lit up. The situation was obviously too stressful for vaping. Anita could have done with one herself. She squinted at her watch – 12.16. The call should have come through a quarter of an hour ago. Now she was convinced that the kidnappers had been watching and had panicked at the sight of the patrol car. She really feared for Peter Uhlig.
Returning to her car, she exchanged a rueful smile with Ann-Kristen, who was sucking the life out of her cigarette; her green-streaked hair being twitched by the breeze. She reported back to Moberg, who fumed a bit more before deciding to sit it out for a while longer.
MALICE IN MALMÖ Page 7