Stockholm Delete

by Jens Lapidus

  That was what Lillan had told him.

  Cecilia: “You should leave now. You’re starting to get pushy.”

  The stables. The smell of the horses. She’d recognized him after a few seconds, it was only a few months since they talked in the park, after all. For a moment, he’d thought Lillan was about to run away, but she just kept grooming her horse.

  “I’m not scared of you. Not if Benjamin’s asked for your help.”

  “You don’t need to be scared anyway,” he said. He lowered his voice. There were girls and women everywhere. “Want to take a walk?”

  Lillan sounded old for her age. “You don’t ride?”

  She’d been high up in the saddle. Teddy walking alongside in the mud. The horse was huge. Brown with a black mane. Lillan’s helmet was black, and she’d been wearing a body protector over her sweater.

  He went into more detail. That being held in custody was wearing Benjamin down. That her brother had asked Emelie to make Teddy “understand.”

  “And,” he’d said, “he told us your dad didn’t kill himself.”

  The horse was moving slowly. Lillan was holding the reins loosely in her hands. Still, he saw that she jerked.

  Teddy said: “Why? Why did Mats want to go underground?”

  Lillan had brought the horse to a stop. She climbed down. Squinted toward the sun.

  She spoke quietly. “I don’t know exactly, but he was scared. He’d gotten himself into a situation where no matter what he did, he’d always be threatened. And if he just disappeared, they’d come after us to force him out.”

  “Who?”

  “I don’t know. The police, maybe. Or you—whoever you were working for. Maybe others.”

  “And you’ve seen him since he vanished, just like Benjamin?”

  “About once every three months for the past few years. Usually at the place in Värmdö. I love my dad.”

  Teddy had thought about her answer for a moment. She loved her father. He wondered how Benjamin felt about him.

  One last question: “Have you seen or heard from him since Benjamin was arrested?”

  The horse snorted in the background.

  “No, that’s why I’m worried. I’ve called him and emailed, but he changes his phone a lot. He’s always worried he’ll get found out. So either he’s too scared to get in touch—probably to keep me safe—or he’s dead.” She turned away.

  They started walking back.

  “There’s something else you should know, about the computer you wanted when he was kidnapped.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Mom made a copy of it. Benjamin and I found it a few years ago.”

  Teddy had tried to gather his thoughts. He’d been such a fool; he’d known that the kidnapping was all about the computer and not about money—why hadn’t he pressed Cecilia about it?

  “What was on it?”

  Lillan told him what she knew. It was the first time he’d spoken to anyone who’d actually seen the contents of the computer: awful videos, she hadn’t been able to watch more than a couple of them. But Benjamin had watched more, just to make sure Mats wasn’t one of the men. Information someone didn’t want to see the light of day. A network of predators. Teddy felt himself grow hot. He’d dropped the whole computer business much too easily.

  “Actually, there’s another thing you should know, too,” Lillan said as they approached the stable. “Another man came here looking for me. One of the other girls told me about it. That’s why I’ve been laying low lately, staying with friends and stuff like that.”

  “Do you know who?”

  “No, but she said he had a red mark on one cheek, like a scar. She said he was creepy.”

  The pattern: Sara’s words in the hospital. The man who’d shot her had something “uneven” about his face, too.

  Linda called Teddy from Herceg Novi. She told him that Isak had been in touch, that he wanted Teddy to call him—switching his phone and his number had worked just like Teddy wanted.

  “Björne, is it true what I heard, you a lawyer these days?” was the first thing Isak asked when Teddy called him back.

  They hadn’t seen one another for more than nine years. Isak was the only one who called him Björne—somehow, it sounded nicer than Teddy. Teddy-björn. Teddy bear.

  “Can we meet?”

  “Is it about my nephew?”

  “Yeah, kinda.”

  So: All Training MMA. Basement gym. Temple of violence. Fighting mecca with a capital “M.”

  The floor was soft. White-painted concrete walls. Punch bags and speed bags hanging from the ceiling. Gloves, MMA mitts, and jump ropes hanging by the entrance.

  Kids in their early teens grabbing each other on the floor. A coach in sweatpants and a hoodie was darting around, giving them instructions. “Bend here. Grip there. Twist there.” The principle was simple: use the laws of physics and the build of your body to deliver the maximum injury to your opponent.

  “My nephew’s fierce.” Isak pointed to two boys in a heap on the mat. Teddy couldn’t tell which of them he meant—the kids’ arms and legs were an impossible tangle.

  They left the training area. On the drainpipe, stickers advertising some radio channel’s Spotify playlists and propaganda posters for the Sweden Democrats.

  Isak lit a cigarette. The gold chain around his wrist clinked like a handcuff. It had to weigh a ton.

  “Been a long time, man. Real good to see you, habibi.”

  “You too.”

  They made small talk for a few minutes. Old memories from their childhood, teens. When they’d arranged to meet the Screwbacks at the gravel pit in Tuvängen, and walked the whole way there, alone. How they’d stood eye to eye with the Screwbacks’ vice president, Sergeant at Arms, two ordinary members, and a group of prospects. How Teddy’d pulled out his piece right under the nose of the vice president and said it like it was: “You leave us alone or I’ll shove this up your ass.”

  Isak laughed so hard, Teddy thought he’d forgotten to breathe. But then he turned to him. Blew a cloud of smoke in his face. The mood sank.

  “Teddy, listen. I need to know where your nephew’s at.”

  “What’re you talking about?”

  “They’re always on our fucking case down here now, the cops. Infiltrating, looking for informants, putting pressure on people to snitch. And they’ve been on Nikola, I know it. They want him to squeal.”

  “What’s that got to do with me? I’m out of the game. Ask his friends. Ask Chamon.”

  “I have, trust me. But you know how it is. Nicko’s gonna pay more attention to you. And my fuse is about as short as a mosquito’s dick—not kidding. You get me?”

  Isak slowly ran his hand over his stubble.

  Teddy said: “Even if I could help, you know Nicko’s inside right now, full restrictions. I can’t even see or call him.”

  Isak grinned. “You’re fucking his lawyer, though, right? Emelie whatsherface? Do it through her.”

  Teddy: a nanometer from breaking his old friend’s nose.

  He could just see the blood on the pavement.

  Hear Isak’s yells.

  His own death sentence—images in his mind.

  No: he regained control of himself. For Nikola’s sake.

  Breathed.

  Breathed deeply.

  “I’ll see what I can do,” he said.

  Isak grinned. “Sweet. Your heart’s still on the right side, habibi. Oh yeah, one more thing.”

  “What?”

  “The whole of Stockholm’s talking about your beef with Mazern, Kum or whatever you used to call him. It’s been years since I saw that old player, but you want to talk to him alone—one-on-one, y’know?”

  “Already have.”

  “Really? Without any of his boys watching?”

  “No, not like that.”

  “Exactly. I still got some contacts who know him.”

  “You can help?”

  “If you help me.”

  �
�Okay, I’ll try.”

  “Good. ’Cause it’s like this: Mazern goes to see a whore after lunch every Saturday. He’s the only john she sees at home. And I know the address. You in, Björne?”

  Teddy smiled. “Isak, man, never been more in.”

  47

  Magnus Hassel’s place in the country was incredible. The manor building, as he called it, was enormous, at least three times the size of Emelie’s parents’ house. Turn of the century, probably built by some kind of merchant toward the end of the nineteenth century. And the views from the double-glass verandas were fantastic. Just a hundred or so yards down a grassy slope, the sea lay like a huge bluish-green yoga mat.

  The lawns looked like they’d been cut with nail scissors. The boathouse was huge, too. Emelie could remember the regulations around public access to beaches from her student days—getting permission to build something like that was no mean feat these days. Either you had deep connections in the municipality, or else you managed it some other way. She could even see a pool and a pool house down toward the water.

  Thirty people. All from the office, the vast majority from Emelie’s department, M&A—Mergers and Acquisitions—mingling on the lawn. Magnus was giving a welcome speech: “We rally round on cases and create warmth in Leijon; we’re the life and soul of the office. Its heart.”

  The waitstaff poured champagne and moved around with trays full of caviar canapés. Emelie knew everyone there, but still, she stuck to Jossan’s side. It felt like her friend was her anchor for the evening.

  She’d struggled with what to wear: the invitation was ambiguous—smart summer. She couldn’t decide between a pale purple dress from Greta and linen pants and a jacket. Her mother had tried to give advice. Emelie got annoyed. If she was honest, she wasn’t in the mood for a party. But at the same time, taking part in social events was good for her—the firm looked favorably on things like that—and it might even cheer her up. Or that’s what Jossan said, anyway. “It’s the best way to make sure you’re on track. Billable hours for every case, though most people here manage that easily enough. But it’s social skills that matter in the end. Being liked. Being part of the gang in the office.”

  Dinner. Floral tablecloths, name cards, huge flower arrangements, a fleet of wineglasses—Emelie wasn’t sure which order they were meant to use them in. Not that it mattered, she realized—the waiting staff only ever filled one up at a time.

  Magnus himself was sitting next to her. He was busy telling their other neighbors about the place. He and his wife had seen it when they were on a boat trip with some friends twenty years earlier. “My wife fell in love with it. What wouldn’t you do to keep the boss happy?” Everyone laughed.

  Emelie: popped two Stesolid tablets in the restroom half an hour ago.

  She hoped her pupils weren’t giving away how she felt. The sweating, the dry mouth, the feeling of drowsiness. No, she thought, it’s the opposite: I’m better on the pills.

  They toasted. Magnus looked her in the eye. Held his glass with his little finger outstretched. Emelie sipped her wine: she couldn’t drink more than five ounces max—not now that she’d doubled the dose of Stesolid. Still, she swallowed. It tasted good, fresh. Jossan winked at her from the other table. Magnus admired her dress. Asked what she was doing over the summer. How she liked living in Vasastan.

  The truth was, she hadn’t had time to make any summer plans. She’d requested a few days off on Monday, but hadn’t heard back yet. As far as she was concerned, no response was as good as a yes. Her mother and father were “experiencing Stockholm” during the day, as her mom put it, but Emelie suspected they really wanted to experience her—that she was the reason they’d come up. Because they didn’t think she was doing too well. “Can we have lunch together one day at the very least?” her mother nagged.

  Emelie had been honest: “If you want to see me, you’ll have to come to Norrmalmstorg at twelve.” She’d asked her secretary to book a table at Prinsen. Dad was impressed, but skeptical. “You get other people to do that for you?”

  Magnus turned to her. He was talking more quietly now.

  “Emelie, listen, I was thinking about the sick leave you took, what we talked about in your development review. I just wanted to say that I think you’re back on track now—one hundred percent. So cheers to that.”

  He raised his glass again: the bigger glass, full of red wine. Emelie did the same. She swallowed.

  Magnus leaned forward. “I heard you wanted to take some vacation now, at the start of July?”

  Emelie felt a wave of unease. She really needed some time off. Time to work on Benjamin’s and Nikola’s cases in peace. To see her parents. Maybe even get some rest.

  Magnus continued: “Because the thing is, a spot opened up on a summer course at Columbia University in New York. I think it’d be a perfect fit for you. U.S. Private Equity for Experienced European Lawyers. Six weeks in New York, we’d cover the costs. Plus you’d be on full pay the whole time. How does that sound?”

  His eyes glittered. He really did mean well—this was an opportunity to die for. Six free weeks in NYC over the summer, on a course that probably wasn’t too demanding, and above all: the company was banking on her. They wanted to keep her—show they were willing to step up, spend money, just to make her feel appreciated.

  She raised her wineglass and took a huge gulp.

  “It sounds fantastic,” she eventually said. “I just need to check my calendar.”

  “You’ve got it on your phone, haven’t you? You can check now? And don’t worry about your cases, I’ll make sure the others step in and take over those.”

  It felt like her tongue was pinned to the roof of her mouth.

  Magnus didn’t seem concerned. “Let’s talk more later. Once you’ve had time to check.”

  After dinner, there was coffee with brandy in another room. Someone had turned on some music. There was a grand piano in one corner. The sun would be setting over the water soon. It was ten thirty.

  Emelie sneaked away to call Teddy. He had to answer now. But his phone was still off. She went back to the party. Watched the people inside. They were making small talk, laughing. Still discussing their summer plans and the weather. Most had at least a few glasses of wine in them, so she could hear different topics of conversation, too. War stories from various transactions, rumors about colleagues. Gossip about other firms, even more gossip about the partners.

  She talked to Jossan for a while. She talked to her secretary. She talked to Claes, Emma, and George. They were all legal associates and lawyers like she was. Everyone was drinking. Everyone was laughing kindly. Everyone was watching her glass. Studying her extra closely whenever she put her lips to the edge and drank. Though maybe it was all in her head.

  She’d already drunk too much with dinner. She really should go and lie down. But the water taxi wasn’t coming until two, and there was nowhere to sleep here.

  She thought about Nikola. Wondered whether he was what Teddy had been like before he served his big sentence. He was always polite to her, but his position was rock solid: he hadn’t committed any crime. He hadn’t been to ICA Maxi. He didn’t know anything about blowing any safe open. And he trusted the cops less than Magnus trusted his opponents in any big transaction.

  The prosecution had promised the preliminary investigation would be done soon, and that meant the main hearing would take place within the next few weeks. She couldn’t be in New York when that happened.

  Magnus came over, two glasses of cognac in his hands.

  “I know it’s all a bit sudden, but we really need your answer by tomorrow at the latest.”

  He held out a glass to her. “Or would you prefer something else? Baileys? Gin and tonic?”

  Emelie reached out and took the glass. She was an idiot.

  “Want to go for a walk?” he asked.

  They went out onto the lawn and walked down toward the pool. The lights beneath the water illuminated Magnus’s face in an almost eerie
way.

  “Cheers.” Their glasses clinked. Emelie took as small a sip as she could. Her head was spinning.

  “You don’t like cognac?”

  “No, no, it’s fine.” She really couldn’t drink any more now.

  “If you keep working like you have been, you could have a place like this one day. You’ve got the ability. And I’m not the only one who thinks that. You’re a rough diamond, Emelie—know what I mean by that?”

  He took another sip, smacked his lips loudly.

  Emelie swirled the amber liquid around her glass. She felt like she was about to throw up.

  “Thanks.” It was the only word she could manage.

  Magnus bent down and dipped a finger in the pool. “The sea’s still cold, but this is a nice temperature. Think anyone wants to swim?”

  “Maybe.”

  He moved closer. “Is everything okay with you?”

  Just one thought going through her mind: don’t toast now. Not another drop to drink.

  She closed her mouth.

  Felt the nausea rising up.

  “There you are.” A familiar voice.

  Magnus’s face lit up. Emelie turned away.

  “You two planning on taking a dip?” Jossan laughed.

  “Maybe,” Magnus said with a grin. “I’ll go and ask if anyone wants to jump in. The sauna’s already fired up.”

  Josephine put a hand on Emelie’s shoulder. The air was cool now. “You’re wasted.”

  “Yeah, but I haven’t drunk much.” She was slurring.

  The pool felt like an enormous, pulsing wave that was about to swallow her up.

  “You need to throw up?”

  “I think so,” Emelie answered, taking a couple of shaky steps forward.

  Stesolid and alcohol: she knew the score.

  She threw up, straight into the pool.

  Starter, main course, dessert. Liqueur coffee.

  Stockholm County Police Authority

  Interview with informant “Marina,” 20 December 2010

  Leader: Joakim Sundén

  Location: Högdalen Centrum

  MEMORANDUM 6 (PART 2)