Hostage

by Kristina Ohlsson

  ‘Not many.’

  ‘Does she speak Swedish?

  More hesitation.

  ‘Yes, she’s one of the most talented linguists I know.’

  ‘What other languages does she speak?’ the investigator asked.

  Good question.

  ‘English, French and German. And Arabic, of course.’

  And there it was again. Another connection with Germany.

  ‘German?’

  Fredrika tried not to sound too interested; she didn’t want Maria to realise how important this could be.

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘How come Sofi speaks German?’

  At that point, Maria refused to answer, obviously aware that the situation had slipped from her grasp, in spite of her efforts to prevent that from happening.

  ‘That’s where she lives, isn’t it?’ Fredrika said.

  Zakaria’s girlfriend nodded. ‘That’s where she has her apartment and her base. In Berlin.’

  ‘Have you been over to visit her?’ Fredrika asked.

  ‘Only a couple of times.’

  So, Zakaria had a sister who lived in Germany. The country from which the information about the hijacking had come. The country with which Adam Mortaji, who had previously owned Zakaria’s mobile phone, had close links.

  The net was closing in. And now, Fredrika had even more questions for Maria.

  ‘Karim Sassi?’ she said, even though she knew that someone had already spoken to Maria about him. ‘Do you know him?’

  ‘I’ve already answered that question.’

  ‘I know, but now I’m asking you again.’

  ‘In that case, my answer is the same as before. I have no recollection of ever meeting someone by that name. Nor do I have any recollection of Zakaria ever mentioning someone called Karim Sassi.’

  Fredrika believed her. With a thousand simultaneous thoughts whirling around in her brain, she tried to piece together the various fragments of information. Germany kept on coming up, over and over again, but they had been unable to find a link with either Zakaria or Karim. The link was only through Zakaria’s phone, and only during the period when it had belonged to Adam Mortaji.

  ‘Do you know a man called Adam Mortaji?’ Fredrika said.

  There.

  A reaction so strong that Fredrika thought she would have picked up on it even if she had had her eyes closed and her hands covering her ears.

  The words struck Maria like a slap in the face.

  ‘No.’

  ‘You’re lying,’ Fredrika said.

  Maria’s face went bright red, and it looked as if she had tears in her eyes. Her mouth was compressed into a straight line, and she didn’t say a word.

  Not one word.

  Who was this man who provoked such a determined silence?

  Fredrika changed tack.

  ‘Do you know if Zakaria ever bought a phone from Sofi, or was given a phone by her?’

  Maria stared at her.

  ‘I don’t think so.’

  ‘How did he get hold of the phone he’s using now?’ the investigator said.

  ‘I’ve no idea. Before that he mostly used his work mobile. And my phone, of course.’

  She looked exhausted.

  Fredrika decided to take another look at the list of calls. They were onto something, she was sure of it.

  ‘Do you have a number for Sofi?’ she said.

  One last shot.

  To her surprise, Maria reached into her pocket and took out her mobile.

  ‘I think so.’

  Then she read out a number.

  ‘This is the only one I have. It’s Sofi’s phone in Germany, but it’s an old number – she doesn’t use it any more. And I haven’t got the new one; Zakaria and Sofi usually Skype one another these days.’

  Fredrika saw Maria smile for the first time. She thought she had disappointed them with an old number.

  On the contrary.

  They ended the interview and went back to Säpo’s offices. Fredrika headed straight for Sebastian and asked him to bring up the list of calls. It took them less than two minutes to find Sofi’s number. During the period when the mobile had probably belonged to Adam Mortaji, it had been in regular contact with Sofi’s phone in Germany.

  ‘Mortaji,’ Fredrika said to Sebastian. ‘We have to find out who he is. He’s important.’

  ‘I thought that if the phone really had belonged to someone else, it would have been the sister; I thought he was protecting her,’ Sebastian said.

  ‘Me too. But it obviously belonged to someone who had been in touch with her.’

  ‘Why did the contact with Sofi stop when Zakaria acquired the phone?’

  ‘First of all, Maria said that Sofi had changed her number, and secondly, they usually communicated via Skype. We also know that Zakaria was in the habit of using several phones at the same time.’

  The stress came flooding back, ruled by forces as implacable as those that govern the movement of the tide.

  Four hundred people at thirty thousand feet.

  A man who was due to be deported, suppressing the only piece of information that could save him.

  A captain taking his passengers and crew to their deaths while refusing to say why he was doing so.

  A secret detention facility that no one was prepared to talk about.

  The almost tangible silence from all directions was driving Fredrika mad. So many secrets, so little time, so many victims.

  But now they had something to work on: Adam Mortaji, who presumably also knew Zakaria’s sister Sofi.

  The only question was how they were going to find either of them.

  58

  21:50

  There was nothing worse than silence.

  Alex Recht hadn’t let go of his mobile for a second. But it didn’t ring. Not once. Hours had passed since he spoke to Erik.

  What the hell had happened?

  In despair, he went along to Eden’s office, where he found her working on the computer.

  ‘We have to do something,’ he said. ‘I think we ought to contact the plane. Confront Karim, tell him we know everything.’

  Eden stopped typing.

  ‘Sit down, Alex.’

  He perched on one of the chairs next to her desk.

  ‘I can’t bear it.’

  He whispered the words, but she heard him. ‘I understand.’

  There was a cup of coffee on her desk, and she wrapped one hand around it. She had large hands for a woman.

  ‘But we can’t make a unilateral decision to contact Karim. We have to speak to our American colleagues first.’

  ‘Your,’ Alex said.

  ‘Sorry?’

  ‘You said we have to speak to our American colleagues. But I don’t have any American colleagues; that applies only to Säpo.’

  Eden took a sip of her coffee, then put down the cup. It was blue, with white characters painted on it. Hebrew, Alex thought.

  ‘I bought it in Israel,’ Eden said.

  Alex didn’t respond; he couldn’t give a fuck where she’d bought the damned thing.

  ‘Your wife died about a year ago, didn’t she?’

  There was a warmth in Eden’s voice that he hadn’t heard before, a warmth he hadn’t thought she possessed, to be honest. It disarmed him, made it possible to answer the question.

  ‘Yes. Cancer.’

  ‘And now you’re afraid you’ll lose Erik as well?’

  He couldn’t speak, and merely nodded instead.

  ‘There isn’t a cat in hell’s chance that I will allow that to happen,’ Eden said. ‘Do you understand what I’m saying? Erik will get through this.’

  Alex stared at Eden, completely taken aback. The warmth was gone, her expression hard. Her voice and posture were utterly uncompromising.

  ‘Nor will I allow you, Erik’s father, to fall apart in the middle of all this. You can do that later if you have any reason to do so. Is that clear?’

  He felt a flash of pure rage.r />
  ‘Crystal clear – do you think I’d abandon the attempt to save my own son?’

  A faint glimmer appeared in Eden’s eyes.

  ‘No. Just checking.’

  Alex wanted nothing more than to believe what Eden had said, but he couldn’t understand how it was going to work, how he was going to get Erik back. Alex thought back to when it had all started. They had had a plan then. They would try to find out who was behind the hijacking, save the hostages in that way. But that was before they realised Karim Sassi was involved. Now it didn’t make any difference what they found out; if they couldn’t get to Karim, both the battle and the war would be lost.

  Fredrika and Sebastian appeared in the doorway. Eden waved them in, and Fredrika closed the door behind her.

  Alex couldn’t understand why someone like Fredrika wanted to sit in some government office, rotting away. He watched her as she pulled up a chair and sat down next to him. Like everyone else, becoming a parent had changed her. The lines around her eyes gave away the fact that she probably did more than half of the household chores at the end of the working day. He had somewhat reluctantly accepted his children’s view that it was unreasonable to expect women to work full-time both outside and inside the home.

  Fredrika lived with a man who was older than Alex. A man of retirement age, who was looking after two small children. Obviously, he wasn’t going to have as much energy as Fredrika; he couldn’t be expected to provide as much help and support as she needed.

  The differences between Eden and Fredrika were striking. There was so little on Eden’s desk, in terms of both personal and professional items, that it looked as if she had only just started working there. Anyone who walked into her office would leave without having learned a single thing about her. He saw the glint of a wedding ring on her left hand, and suspected that things were very different in her household. Whoever her husband might be, Alex thought he probably put in as much effort as Fredrika did in order to make things work.

  ‘We think that Adam Mortaji, who used to own Zakaria’s phone, knows or is somehow linked to his sister,’ Fredrika said before going on to explain what they had found out from talking to Maria.

  Alex listened, his anxiety as intense as a physical sensation.

  They were talking too much, both to each other and to witnesses. None of this was going to help bring down the plane safely – they could do all this afterwards.

  Eden was listening too as she looked at the list of calls Sebastian had given her.

  ‘I agree, the sister is interesting,’ she said. ‘But I find it difficult to see exactly how she fits in. Do we know anything about her relationship with Zakaria? Are they close? Could she be involved in the hijacking in order to secure her brother’s release?’

  Every case had its own phantom; Alex had realised that at an early stage in his career. There was always one individual who was impossible to pin down, who for some reason drifted around those parts of an investigation that lay in the shadows.

  ‘We’ve been wondering about that too,’ Fredrika said.

  ‘Have we eliminated the girlfriend?’ Alex asked.

  ‘We did that a while ago,’ Eden replied. ‘We just don’t believe she’s capable of carrying out an operation like this. Admittedly, she might have a minor role to play, but she couldn’t be the person behind it.’

  ‘This all comes back to Zakaria,’ Fredrika said. ‘Even if his sister is mixed up in the hijacking, I’m certain there’s someone else who’s involved, someone Zakaria is protecting.’

  ‘Adam Mortaji, for example?’

  ‘Exactly.’

  Alex thought for a moment.

  ‘So the idea that Zakaria is keeping quiet about information that could secure his release – couldn’t that also be an indication that he actually is involved? Even if we’re now tending to think that he isn’t, do we have enough evidence for such a definitive conclusion?’

  They had to get out of this Säpo framework within which every discussion so far had been conducted. Alex was sick of it. Villains were villains, whether they were bank robbers or terrorists.

  The difficulties with Säpo’s role were painfully obvious, and Alex thanked his lucky stars that he didn’t work there. He would have gone crazy.

  Eden broke the silence that followed Alex’s question.

  ‘No,’ she said. ‘In spite of intense investigative work, we can’t be certain of anything at all.’

  Right from the start, Alex had felt that Zakaria was the protagonist in this drama, in spite of the fact that it had begun before he was told that he would have to leave Sweden. So far, Alex hadn’t wasted much energy on the issue of Zakaria’s guilt, but now he was starting to wonder.

  What if Zakaria himself was involved in the hijacking?

  Fredrika glanced at her watch. It was just after ten o’clock in the evening, but it might as well have been three in the afternoon. She was firing on all cylinders now, and her body was not aware of either tiredness or hunger. They were on the home straight. In less than two hours, it would all be over. That thought brought her neither peace of mind nor relief, so she pushed it firmly aside.

  Dennis, the head of the investigation unit, knocked on the door and yanked it open. He looked surprised when he saw how many of them were sitting there.

  ‘I just wanted to let you know that Karim’s wife called a few minutes ago. She’ll be landing in Stockholm in an hour.’

  ‘She’s coming back from Copenhagen?’

  ‘Yes. She’s left the children with her parents.’

  ‘Tell her we might want to see her.’

  ‘Already done.’

  He turned to leave, but hesitated.

  ‘Has anything new come up? Is that what you’re discussing?’ he said.

  ‘I’ll be with you in two minutes,’ Eden assured him.

  He disappeared as quickly as he had arrived, closing the door behind him. Eden turned to Sebastian.

  ‘I want you to come with me to a meeting with the CIA shortly.’

  ‘First the CIA – then what?’ Alex asked.

  ‘Zakaria,’ Eden said. ‘Then Karim’s wife.’

  Fredrika swallowed. She needed to update the government, but she had no idea what she was going to say.

  At that moment, Eden’s phone rang and she answered: ‘Eden Lundell.’

  Then she sat for a long time with the receiver pressed to her ear, saying nothing.

  ‘It’s unfortunate that we didn’t discuss this in advance,’ she eventually said in English. ‘We’ve asked Erik Recht to do something similar.’ She fell silent once more.

  Something similar?

  Fredrika glanced at Alex, and saw that he was leaning forward in his chair, as if he was trying to hear more clearly.

  ‘Okay, so when was this?’ Eden said. ‘And you haven’t heard from him since then?’

  She shook her head, her lips compressed into a straight line.

  ‘We haven’t heard from Erik either, and that worries me, to be honest.’

  She listened again, then ended the call.

  ‘Bad news,’ she said in a tone of voice so sharp that Fredrika was grateful Eden had chosen a career within the police service rather than the medical profession.

  ‘What’s happened? Was that about Erik?’ Alex asked.

  ‘The Americans appear to have a whole truckload of surprises,’ Eden said. ‘Apparently, they have an operative from the Department of Defense on board, and he’s been in touch with them. They’ve told him to get into the cockpit with the help of a stewardess, then to put Karim Sassi out of action and take over the plane.’

  ‘So he’s a pilot?’ Sebastian said.

  ‘Yes, although he usually flies a different kind of aircraft. The only problem is that they haven’t heard from him and were wondering if we’d heard anything. Which we haven’t, of course.’

  Alex sighed heavily. Fredrika could see that he was clutching his mobile, and wished with all her heart that Erik would call.
<
br />   Ring, for God’s sake, ring.

  ‘They also wanted us to know that they’re sticking by their decision,’ Eden went on. ‘If we can’t get someone into the cockpit, they won’t let the plane enter their airspace.’

  An endless nightmare.

  Fredrika went over the loose ends. There were a lot of them, and it was difficult to get an overview, but she had a feeling it was important not to forget about Zakaria’s sister.

  ‘Have you passed on what we know about Sofi to the Germans?’ she asked.

  ‘Yes. They didn’t seem to recognise her name, or the picture we got from her uncle. Although that doesn’t necessarily mean a great deal; she might use a different name in Germany.

  Germany and Sweden, the USA and Afghanistan.

  The world had turned into a gigantic playing field where different teams met in order to challenge each other in a competition with rules that were rewritten as they went along, rules that could usually be broken.

  ‘What is it we’re actually looking for?’ Fredrika said.

  ‘We’re looking for someone who knows both Zakaria and Tennyson Cottage, and who is sufficiently wound up to hijack an entire plane,’ Eden said.

  She was right, Fredrika thought. Whoever had written the note that had been found in the toilet on the plane hadn’t mentioned Tennyson Cottage by chance. On the contrary – the person in question thought it was important for Tennyson Cottage specifically to be shut down. Otherwise he or she could have written about the USA’s secret detention facilities in Afghanistan in far more general terms.

  Fredrika added another factor to her analysis.

  Whoever had set all this in motion was not only personally concerned with Zakaria’s fate and the closure of Tennyson Cottage. He or she also knew Karim Sassi, a man who on paper didn’t appear to have a single reason to do what he was doing right now. It was equally important to find that link in order to solve the case.

  And then there were yesterday’s damned bomb threats. What was their significance, and who had made the calls? Fredrika sensed that it was important to find the answers to these questions. She just didn’t understand why.

  59

  22:15

  ‘When will you be home?’

  Diana’s voice was far away; Alex had to make a real effort to hear what she was saying.