A woman a few rows further forward put her fears into words: ‘You have to give us some kind of information. The plane is going to arrive several hours late. And now this. What are you doing?’
She gestured towards the unconscious man and Erik’s bloodstained shirt.
He searched for the right words. ‘We are in an extremely unusual situation. Unfortunately, I am unable to share all the details with you, because I don’t have them. And I realise I am asking the impossible when I say that you must continue to be patient, but I’m afraid that’s all I can do right now.’
People shuffled anxiously.
‘Why are you locked out?’ the man at the back wanted to know.
Erik swallowed. ‘Because Captain Sassi is unable to open the door from the inside at the moment, but we’ll soon sort it out.’
Anything else would be a disaster, although he didn’t say that.
He needed help. His one-man show was over. He would start by going back to the bar and telling Lydia what had happened.
But the woman who had spoken earlier wasn’t satisfied with Erik’s response.
She pointed to the man on the floor. ‘Who’s he?’ she said.
Erik looked at the man he had just knocked out.
That’s exactly what I’d like to know, he thought.
56
STOCKHOLM, 20:35
Time would soon run out. The plane would have used up all its fuel within just a few hours, and Fredrika Bergman felt nothing but sheer despair.
They had called Jerker Gustavsson, who was one of the people who had been in contact with Zakaria’s phone both before and after the date on which he claimed he had acquired it, and luck had been on their side. Jerker was actually at a restaurant in Södermalm, celebrating his mother’s seventy-fifth birthday, rather than at home in Västerhaninge. Like everyone else, he was nervous when he heard that the police wanted to speak to him, but he certainly wasn’t uncooperative.
‘You’re welcome to come to the restaurant,’ he said. ‘I don’t want to leave my family.’
‘Someone will be with you in twenty minutes,’ Fredrika replied.
And they were. A patrol car was dispatched immediately with its blue light flashing, and time moved on inexorably.
Eden and Sebastian had been given new information by their German colleagues, who had received another email. The pilot was going to crash the plane into the Capitol building, regardless of whether the hijackers’ demands were met. No reason was given.
Fredrika felt something like physical pain when Eden told her what the Germans had said. She couldn’t bring herself to look at Alex. His son would be dead within just a few hours, and there was nothing anyone could do for him. Unless Erik could save himself by putting Karim Sassi out of action.
‘What’s our assessment with regard to the reliability of the German intelligence?’ the head of the investigation unit asked when Eden had finished speaking.
‘As we established earlier, it’s not possible to make any kind of assessment. The only thing we know for sure is that the original information about a hijacking taking place turned out to be correct, and it also seems likely that the captain is involved, as the first email stated. To put it briefly, we have to take this new intelligence seriously.’
Alex was sitting at the table listening, pale and exhausted. Erik still hadn’t been in touch, and they were now considering calling Karim, just to get some sign of life from the plane.
‘Is that our next step?’ Dennis asked. ‘Calling Karim Sassi?’
‘Later,’ Eden said curtly.
Later? There was no later.
‘Have the Germans managed to identify the person who sent these emails?’ Dennis wanted to know.
‘They’ve tried everything they can, but without success. It’s as if the messages were sent from outer space.’
It was obvious that everyone in the group was seething with impatience. Hour after hour had passed, and the plane was still heading for destruction.
We have to have a breakthrough, Fredrika thought. Otherwise we are going to lose both our judgement and our morale.
‘Surely, the person who sent the emails has to be someone who was involved?’ Alex said.
‘Not necessarily,’ Eden replied. ‘After all, we don’t know exactly who’s behind the hijacking, apart from Karim of course. It’s not impossible that someone else who is mixed up in all this couldn’t help boasting about what’s going to happen.’
‘Why would someone who’s involved in the hijacking talk about it several weeks in advance?’ Sebastian said.‘It doesn’t make sense.’
A fleeting thought, impossible to catch. They were missing something, Fredrika could feel it in her whole body. The answer to Sebastian’s question was right there in front of them – they just couldn’t see it.
Why would someone who’s involved in the hijacking talk about it several weeks in advance?
Fredrika came up with two possible answers.
‘Either because he or she wants to appear innocent,’ she said slowly, ‘or the emails were sent to the Germans to make sure we don’t miss what’s happening.’
Eden stared at her incredulously.
‘I’m sorry? So that we don’t miss the fact that someone is threatening to blow up a jumbo jet?’
Alex met Fredrika’s gaze; he straightened up and nodded slowly. He understood what she was saying.
‘That’s not what she means,’ he said. ‘Think about what was actually in the emails. Details that we would never have found out otherwise.’
The room fell silent.
‘Go on,’ Sebastian said.
‘I can’t explain it,’ Fredrika said. ‘But . . . these messages. Aren’t they just like the book of Tennyson’s poetry that we found on Karim’s bookshelf? Way too obvious, yet with an attempt at vagueness. The book clearly points to Tennyson, so that we won’t miss the fact that Karim has something to do with Tennyson Cottage – and yet we can’t find anything else pointing in that direction. Not one single thing.’
Eden shook her head crossly. ‘Where are you going with this?’
Another idea began to form in Fredrika’s mind, and this time she managed to hold onto it.
‘I don’t know,’ she said eventually. ‘It’s just that this entire business is littered with completely bizarre elements. And I don’t like these weird arrows that keep on popping up, as if someone is doing everything in their power to make sure we don’t miss Karim Sassi’s involvement.’
‘But Fredrika, he is involved,’ Eden said. ‘Erik said that he happened to mention Washington instead of New York. And he refuses to move away from the US border, refuses to seek an alternative place to land.’
‘I know that,’ Fredrika said. ‘And I’m not saying he isn’t involved. I’m just saying that someone is so determined to point us in his direction that we’re forgetting to look for anyone else. I get the same feeling about this new information, telling us that the pilot has instructions that weren’t mentioned in the original note found in the toilet.’
Alex joined in eagerly: ‘Exactly. They’re reinforcing an already threatening message, keeping us on track so that we don’t imagine we can deviate from the original instructions.’
Seconds passed, and Eden said nothing.
‘So what’s the aim of the person who sent the emails to the Germans?’
‘To remind us that we are facing an unbeatable opponent,’ Fredrika said.
‘Not even if we accede to the demands?’
‘The hijackers know that’s not going to happen.’
‘And why send the emails to the Germans and not to us?’ Dennis wondered.
‘I’ve asked myself the same question,’ Fredrika said. ‘First of all, I think there’s a German connection that we don’t yet understand. And secondly, if the first message had been sent to us, the effect would have been far too dramatic, since the plane was actually due to take off from Arlanda. The sender merely wanted to ensure that when the hijackin
g took place, the right information was already out there.’
A German connection. But what could it be?
The only link they had seen so far was a number of calls to and from Germany on Zakaria’s phone. But that was hardly a link at all, more of a vague coincidence.
Time had passed too quickly, Fredrika realised that now. There were so many thoughts and loose ends buzzing around in her head, so much that didn’t make sense. Why Tennyson Cottage in particular? The USA must have several secret detention facilities, so why Tennyson Cottage? They had to find out. And soon.
And why Karim Sassi? What was the connection between Karim and Zakaria? If they understood that, then soon the jigsaw would be complete.
As Fredrika sat there, lost in thought, Sebastian and Eden moved the meeting on.
‘What’s next?’ Sebastian asked.
‘We’ll wait another hour to hear from Erik Recht, the co-pilot,’ Dennis said, glancing at Alex. ‘Then we will need to consider other options, in consultation with our American colleagues.’
‘What options?’ Alex said.
‘We have to consider, as a last resort, confronting Karim with what we know – explaining that he’s not going to be able to achieve his goal, and that therefore the best thing would be to land the plane and hand himself over to the police.’
Was that really where they had ended up? With pleading as their only remaining option? Karim Sassi would get what he wanted. He would be the one who formed the dividing line between life and death.
Unless Erik managed to take control of the plane.
But why hadn’t he been in touch?
Fredrika could see that Alex was suffering.
‘What’s our next step?’ he said.
Impatient, as so many times in the past.
‘We’ve spoken to virtually everyone during the course of the day,’ Dennis said. ‘Everyone. We’ve contacted the relatives of both Karim and Zakaria, and they all seem equally bewildered. For example, not one conversation has suggested who else might be involved apart from Karim, and that worries me, because in my opinion the idea that he could have acted alone is out of the question.’
‘There’s still one person we haven’t spoken to,’ Fredrika said. ‘Zakaria’s sister.’
‘Exactly. And we need to find her as a matter of urgency, so that we can at least eliminate her from our enquiries, if nothing else. We’re interviewing Zakaria’s girlfriend immediately after this meeting; the last time we talked to her, we didn’t know about the sister.’
‘When were we supposed to hear about Jerker Gustavsson?’ Dennis wanted to know.
Fredrika glanced anxiously at her mobile.
‘It depends how quickly he can get hold of his list of clients to check whose name he has against Zakaria’s mobile number. If he needs to go back to his workshop, then we’re going to lose valuable time.’
Sebastian looked around. ‘If no one has anything else to raise, then I suggest we bring the meeting to a close.’
One of the analysts raised his hand.
‘We’re working through lists from the relevant pay stations around Stockholm to see if we get a match on a car leaving the city and heading for the airport in the hours before the bomb threats were made yesterday, but it’s a long shot. Even if we find that a known criminal or suspect drove out towards Arlanda, it doesn’t prove that that person made the calls. And as you know we can’t get any further with the phones that were used.’
Fredrika thought about the much discussed congestion charge and the infrastructure that had been created in order to introduce it. There were pay stations around the entire inner city, where motorists were photographed and scanned so that information about movement in and out of the city could be stored, and to determine who was liable for the charge. A huge number of cars must head for Arlanda every single day.
‘When do you expect to finish?’
‘Hopefully, within the next few hours.’
‘I don’t expect a match with a name we already know, but it has to be done,’ Sebastian said.
Of course. Everything had to be checked, every snippet of information examined in detail. Fredrika felt a fresh surge of impatience; why couldn’t they get a breakthrough in this nightmare situation?
Because it hasn’t even been twenty-four hours yet.
The meeting came to an end, and Fredrika stayed behind with Alex, Dennis and Sebastian.
‘Okay, so you’re going to speak to Zakaria’s girlfriend, and you’re staying here,’ Dennis said, nodding at Fredrika and Alex respectively.
Fredrika accompanied Dennis. At last, they were going to interview Zakaria’s girlfriend, Maria. The conversation probably wouldn’t change a thing, but she still wanted to see where it might lead. Because there was something missing. Her body was crying out with exhaustion, making her feel slow and heavy.
The conviction that something had escaped them floated before her like a mirage. Who was Karim’s associate? Could it be Zakaria’s sister Sofi?
And why would a person do what Karim Sassi was apparently doing right now?
Fredrika could come up with only two reasons. Either he was acting out of conviction, or under duress.
But how could such a thing happen? How could someone force another person to carry four hundred passengers to their death?
Her mobile rang; it was one of the investigators who had gone to speak to Jerker Gustavsson.
‘We were in luck,’ he said. ‘Gustavsson had his list of clients on his mobile, so he was able to search for the number.’
Fredrika held her breath.
‘And who did it belong to?’
‘Last summer, he spoke to someone called Zakaria on that number, but before that the phone belonged to a client by the name of Adam Mortaji.’
And so yet another name was added to the investigation.
57
21:10
Adam Mortaji.
They had no idea who he was, where he came from, or if he still lived in Sweden. It took just a few minutes to establish that Adam Mortaji, just like Zakaria’s sister, didn’t exist in any Swedish records.
‘Contact all our partner organisations right away,’ Eden said. ‘I want to know who this guy is, and fast.’
They could ask Zakaria, of course, but that would probably be a pointless waste of time. If he had refused to tell them about Mortaji under interrogation and during the court proceedings, it was foolish to believe that he would suddenly start talking.
Fredrika sat down with Dennis and his investigator, to draw up a plan of action for their interview with Zakaria’s girlfriend, Maria.
To their surprise, she was already in Police HQ when they called her. She was in reception, asking to be allowed to speak to Zakaria. When she was informed that this was unfortunately out of the question, she simply sat down on one of the benches in front of the tall windows and stated that she had no intention of moving until someone took her to see him. When Fredrika and the Säpo investigator found her, she had been sitting there for half an hour.
‘I’m not going anywhere until I’ve seen Zakaria,’ she said when they had introduced themselves and explained why they wanted to talk to her.
Her expression was grim, just like Fredrika’s had been on the day when Spencer called her from Uppsala and told her he was being held by the police.
Fredrika suddenly found it difficult to breathe. She still sometimes woke in the night, her heart contracting with fear. She didn’t know how Spencer felt about it these days. They never discussed the matter; they simply left it in the past where it belonged.
‘You can’t see Zakaria at the moment,’ the Säpo investigator said. ‘But you can help him by helping us.’
‘I’ve already spoken to you; I’ve explained all these apparent inconsistencies. He was never a part of the terrorist plot against Stockholm – how many times do I have to tell you?’
How did she know? Fredrika took a deep breath. How could you ever be sure of something like that
? The short answer is because you know the person you love.
But love could be irrational as well as blind.
You never know for sure, you really don’t.
‘We’d like to talk to you about Zakaria’s sister,’ Fredrika said. She couldn’t stop herself from acting as if she actually was a police officer.
‘About Sofi?’ Maria’s anger was replaced by surprise.
‘Yes.’
‘Why?’
‘Perhaps we could go somewhere else and have a chat?’
Zakaria’s girlfriend gave the suggestion some thought, then she said: ‘No. I’m fine here.’
Fredrika and her colleague exchanged glances, then without a word they sat down on either side of Maria.
‘Do you know where we can get hold of Sofi?’ Fredrika asked.
‘No.’
It was impossible to tell if she was lying, but Fredrika thought she probably was.
‘This is important,’ the investigator said. ‘We need to speak to her as a matter of urgency.’
‘What about?’
‘We can’t go into that right now,’ Fredrika said.
The truth was that she didn’t know exactly why they wanted to speak to Sofi; perhaps because she was the only person close to Zakaria that they hadn’t yet interviewed. Perhaps that was the very thing that made her interesting.
‘But it would help Zakaria, as I’ve already said,’ the Säpo investigator reiterated; Fredrika thought there was a hint of pleading in his voice.
She decided to try a different tack.
‘Maybe Sofi doesn’t live in Stockholm?’
Maria looked tired as she picked at a fingernail.
‘She lives a different kind of life from me and Zakaria,’ she said eventually. ‘Sometimes she’s here and she comes to see us, the rest of the time she’s all over the place.’
‘Have you seen her recently?’ Fredrika asked.
Maria stiffened.
‘No,’ she said, and, this time, Fredrika could see that she was lying.
‘Does she usually stay with you when she’s around?’
‘Sometimes.’
‘But she has other friends in Stockholm too?’
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