Vanished?

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Vanished? Page 15

by Christer Tholin


  Lars and Carl sat down on two swivel chairs.

  “Do you have the email header?” Carl asked.

  Lars handed him the printout. Carl glanced at it briefly and then laid the sheet aside.

  “I’ll take care of it, but it might take me a few hours. You said, you had something else for me?”

  “Yeah, two cell phone surveillances. Here’s the information.”

  “OK. How urgent is it?”

  “I need it as fast as possible. For the first, I need to know its location over the last twenty-four hours and also where it is now. And I need the communications info for both of them: phone calls and text messages.”

  “No problem. I’m on it. Do you want to wait?”

  “How long will it take?”

  “If all goes well, I should have their locations in a couple of minutes.”

  “OK, I’ll wait.”

  Carl moved over to one of the keyboards, opened a program, and started typing. Lars was already familiar with the process: Carl would hack the telephone service provider’s server and extract the information. Carl was actually a “white hat”—a so-called “good” hacker, if there was such a thing. But Lars knew that Carl would occasionally go beyond that, so that the label “gray hat” was probably a better fit.

  The computer beeped a couple of times. Carl entered some more data. He was working with at least three different windows at the same time. Then he finally opened another that showed a map, and he plugged in some coordinates that he had copied from one of the other windows. A red dot lit up on the map.

  “Voilà! The first cell phone is in Vallentuna, in the industrial section.”

  “Right. I already know about that one, and that’s correct.”

  “Oh yeah, right, you just wanted the communications info for that number. No big deal. OK, now for the other one ...”

  Carl went back to another window, entered the other data, typed something, and hit “Enter.” He came up with some new coordinates that he copied into the map window.

  “So this cell phone is probably off. I won’t be able to find out where it is right now. But it was on the net yesterday—at 1:04 p.m., to be exact. At that time, it was in the Mörby Centrum shopping mall.”

  “Mörby Centrum. All right, thanks.” That was just a few kilometers from Liv’s house. “Can you find out where it was two hours before that?”

  “It’ll take me a little longer, but I’ll figure it out.”

  “Great. Can you email it to me?”

  “Sure thing. Same address?”

  “Yup.”

  Lars said goodbye and walked back through the office to the door. Carl was already busy at work in front of his monitors—two at once, from the looks of it. Lars passed the woman in the hoodie, who was absorbed in her screen and filling out some template. She didn’t look up even once.

  41

  Elin stuck the newspaper in the mailbox and kept walking. Lars had good ideas—you had to give him that. Metro was free in a lot of cities, including Stockholm, so Elin had gone to the hospital underground station in Danderyd and fetched a pile of papers from the stands. Now she was distributing them throughout the area around Liv’s house.

  Only a few people were out and about. Most were probably at work, and the rest were in their homes—the weather wasn’t exactly enticing people to go out for a stroll. Elin had encountered only one woman who was taking her Labrador retriever for a walk, and she had explained that she was part of an ad campaign. Of course, that was utter nonsense. First of all, Metro had no need of ad campaigns, and secondly, it certainly didn’t need them in this wealthy area, where every household was sure to have at least one daily newspaper subscription and little interest in Metro. Luckily, the woman hadn’t questioned her story.

  Before picking up the papers, Elin had made a quick stop at home, where she borrowed one of Maja’s old parkas. After rummaging through the closet, she also found an old wig of her own with long, dark hair. She had worn it once to a Halloween party. With some girlish makeup, Elin was already looking five years younger. Now she was walking around in this disguise. No one would recognize her, which would also guarantee her usefulness for further actions on this case.

  So far, nothing had stood out to her, but she also hadn’t yet made it to Liv’s house. She had parked her car at the school and had taken the shortest route to Liv’s place, only occasionally inserting a paper in one of the mailboxes. Otherwise, there was the risk that her supply might dwindle too quickly.

  Elin was happy to be out of the office again. Since the trip to Dalarna in September, she had done nothing but sit at her desk. Tobias had praised her efforts and promised to keep her in mind if another opportunity arose, but nothing had happened since then. And it wasn’t because he forgot—she had reminded him enough times. That was why she was happy when Lars requested her, and she hoped she would get more assignments now that Lars was fully back on the job. Still, Elin never imagined that her second assignment would revolve around Liv and Martin again. Liv didn’t look good at all—like she’d been through the wringer. That was understandable. The poor woman had experienced quite a bit.

  Elin was now rounding the corner as the driveway to Liv’s house came into view. Before starting out, she had looked it all up on Google Maps—the street view was really useful. She looked around. No one in sight. She slowly continued walking. After another hundred meters, she had a good overview of the driveway. It was empty.

  No, there was nothing worth noting here. No people walking by, no cars on the street. And the plots all had plenty of room for several vehicles.

  Elin decided to toss another paper in the mailbox for the property diagonally across from Liv’s. The mailbox was right beside the driveway, and a BMW was sitting at the far end of the parking area. Elin opened the door to the mailbox, but the mailbox was pretty full, so she had to shove the paper inside to get the door to shut.

  “Strange,” Elin thought, “didn’t these people empty their mailbox, or were they out of town?”

  She was about to go on when she noticed a movement inside the car, and something lit up. Someone was apparently sitting in the car, lighting a cigarette. She took her cell phone out of her pocket and pretended to make a call, but before she put it back, she took a photo of the BMW. Then she pondered her next move. Lars had impressed upon her that she was to do nothing but observe. Elin, however, decided to act. She walked over to the car and knocked on the driver’s window. A man was sitting inside it with a cigarette dangling from the corner of his mouth. He lowered the window and stared suspiciously at her. Balding head, stubbly beard, on the heavier side, scruffy leather jacket—possibly not from this area.

  “Hi!” Elin began. “We’re conducting an ad campaign today. Would you like a free Metro?”

  The man shook his head and waved her off. The window went back up.

  Elin dropped the paper and made a big production out of picking it up, taking longer than necessary. The man ignored her and stared straight ahead, so she used the moment to stick a GPS tracker on the underside of his car. She had activated it the moment she left her own car. Now she hoped that the guy actually had something to do with the kidnapping.

  Elin continued walking down the street but couldn’t see any more suspicious-looking people or cars, so she headed to the school and gave Lars a call.

  42

  Martin watched helplessly as Liv paced back and forth in her office, her high-heeled boots making a staccato sound. She was a nervous wreck, constantly checking her inbox for new messages. The conversation with Lars had done her good. The questions and the discussion had kept her distracted, but after Lars was gone, she could no longer hold herself together. Martin was at a loss as to what to do—he felt so useless. So far, the only way he had managed to help was by bringing in Lars. He had also tried to calm Liv down, but without success. In his opinion, she should be taking a calmative. Instead, she kept drinking one cup of coffee after another, although she claimed it had no effect on
her nerves—at least, no negative effect.

  Martin looked at the clock. It was nearly half past eleven in the morning. He couldn’t understand why the kidnappers weren’t communicating. If their intent was to make Liv nervous, then they had already fully succeeded. There was no need to wait any longer.

  There was a knock at the door. It was Lars, who now entered the room. It was a good thing, too. Hopefully, his presence would help to calm Liv’s nerves.

  “Hi, any new messages?” Lars asked.

  Liv shook her head. “No, nothing. Damn it all, why are they taking so long? It’s killing me.”

  “Have a seat. I’ll fill you in on what we’ve got so far.” Lars went to the table and sat down beside Martin. Liv hesitated at first but then sat down across from them.

  “The cell phone surveillance is in progress,” Lars began, “and we’re also in the process of tracing the source of the emails. I’m hoping we’ll have the results by this afternoon. What we already know is that the last time Saga’s cell phone appeared on the net was yesterday at 1:04 p.m.”

  Liv glanced at her cell phone. “Yes, that’s the exact time I received the text message.”

  “At that time, her phone was at Mörby Centrum.”

  “Where’s that?” Martin asked.

  “That’s the shopping center closest to Liv’s house. It’s just a few kilometers away.”

  “Is that helpful to us?” Martin asked.

  “No, not really. And it doesn’t necessarily mean that Saga was there, because it was already two hours after the kidnapping. The person who sent the message could have made a point of being there at that time to avoid giving away his actual location. But at least it’s nearby, which means that we can probably assume that Saga’s location is not too far away.”

  Liv let out a deep breath. “That’s good. Then at least she’s not that far from here.”

  Lars continued: “Also, I just spoke with Elin. She noticed a conspicuous car parked diagonally across from your house in Danderyd. It was actually parked on the neighbor’s property, and there was someone sitting inside it, smoking. The mailbox also hadn’t been emptied for several days.”

  “What number was that?” Liv asked.

  “Number 8.”

  “Yes, that’s the Melander couple. They’re both retired and are out of town this week.”

  “Elin is in the process of checking the car’s license plate number,” Lars added. “She was able to slip a tracking device onto the car so that we can follow its movements.”

  “Wow! Great!” Liv was excited.

  “Well, we don’t want to get too enthusiastic too soon. The man and the car may not have anything to do with the kidnapping, but if they do, we’ve got the guy by the collar. In any event, Elin is going to do another round once you’re home. I’ve looked around here at the industrial park, but it’s hard to pinpoint anything. There’s a lot of activity here and a lot of parked cars, some with drivers in them. It’s possible that one of the kidnappers is here. All in all, that means that what they said about watching you could be true. In other words, we need to be extremely cautious.”

  “And what does that mean in practice, Lars? Should we be doing anything differently now?” Martin asked.

  “No. First of all, they’ll be keeping an eye out for the police, but they also know that the cops won’t be coming around in a patrol car. We should keep meeting here and not cause any commotion at your place. My only question is whether it wouldn’t be better if the two of you went to Liv’s so that the kidnappers see that you’re staying put.”

  “Sure, we could do that,” Martin offered. “But you should also know that you have a genuinely calming effect on Liv. Until you came in, she was pacing back and forth like a tiger in a cage.”

  “Yes, and I don’t want to go home right now,” Liv added. “I would go stir-crazy there.”

  “All right, then we’ll stay here. At the moment, though, all we can do is wait.”

  43

  The email arrived at one in the afternoon, exactly twenty-four hours after the first one. They had just finished eating the lunch they had ordered, although Liv had hardly touched any of hers. She had set her phone so that it would beep whenever an email came in. Until now, they were always other emails, but this time, it was the one they had been waiting for. Liv read it and shook her head in disbelief. She sat down at the table, handed the phone to Lars, and buried her face in her hands. Martin stared at her, horrified. What had happened now?

  Lars was breathing heavily as he read the email.

  “This is unbelievable,” he said. “They want 100 million kronor.” That was more than 11 million euros.

  “Are you sure there isn’t one zero too many there?” Martin asked.

  “No, they also wrote it out. There’s no doubt about it.”

  “God, that’s a ton of money. What else did they write?” asked Martin.

  “I’ll translate: ‘Your daughter is fine. Stick to our instructions. No police! We are demanding 100,000,000 SEK. Get the money together and contact us at this email address. At that time, we will give you the number of the account to be used for the funds transfer. We will shortly be sending another email with a video.’ That’s all they wrote.”

  Martin looked at Liv. That was a huge amount. Would she be able to raise that much? She hadn’t budged at all but just sat there with her elbows on the table and her face buried in her hands.

  Martin turned to Lars. “Lars, how much did they demand in other cases?”

  “In Fabian Bengtsson’s case, I think it was 55 million kronor, but the family never paid it. Of course, that was ten years ago. But the Bengtssons are one of the richest families in Sweden. At that time, they already had billions in capital. They could easily have forked over that amount. So Liv, what’s the situation with you?”

  Liv slowly lowered her hands. Her face was wet and her makeup smeared. She fumbled around for a tissue to wipe her nose and eyes. Then she shook her head.

  “No,” she replied softly. She cleared her throat. “I could never get that much together.”

  Martin and Lars looked at each other. Martin had no concept of Liv’s financial situation. It was obvious that she had a lot of money, but 11 million euros was another scale altogether.

  Martin turned to Liv. “Liv, it’s none of our business, but maybe it would be good if you outlined the exact situation for us. How much cash do you have available, and what could you sell to increase the amount?”

  Liv stared at the table. Then she quietly answered: “Yes, I have no problem telling you. I have a bit in savings—just under two million kronor all together. And then there are the houses and the two companies. And the two cars.”

  She looked up. Her big blue eyes were filled with tears.

  “Everyone thinks we’re super rich, and yes, I have enough money and can afford plenty of things for myself. But that amount? Back when I took over the company, it was already running well. And then we bought the house in Danderyd. We took out a mortgage for half its value. But then the financial crisis occurred, and the market stagnated. We had hardly any business, so I also took out a mortgage on the house in the Archipelago. That would let us pull through and also make some critical investments. Once things picked up again, we decided to take our time with paying down the mortgage. It’s actually due now.”

  “All right, so even if you sold both of the houses here—I mean, the one in Danderyd and the one in the Archipelago—how much would you get from that?” Martin asked.

  Liv thought for a moment and then replied: “Prices have gone up dramatically, so that being the case, maybe 10 million for our house in Danderyd and 5 to 6 million for the summerhouse in the Archipelago. That’s minus the mortgages, although I would still have to pay taxes.”

  “In Germany, we pay no tax after ten years of use. Is that not the case in Sweden?”

  “No,” Lars answered. “You always have to pay tax on your capital gains—22 percent.”

  “All
right, but do you have to pay it right away?”

  “No, not until you file your tax return.”

  “OK. Liv, what about the house in the mountains and the one on Mallorca?” Martin asked.

  “The one in Åre is just a ski cabin. I might be able to get two million for it. The finca is worth more, probably 20 million. But it’s on leased property and is hard to sell for that reason. We had already toyed with the idea and looked into it. That’s how I know.”

  Martin had been adding it all up in his head. “So the sum total of all of that doesn’t amount to even half the ransom demand. What makes them think Liv can pay 100 million?”

  “And besides,” Lars added, “it’s impossible to sell all those properties in such a short a time. Even with a buyer already in place, it still takes a couple of weeks to wrap everything up and for the funds to clear.”

  “And a loan is out of the question since the combined value of the houses is not enough to use as collateral. So what can we do? Should we make them a lower offer?” Martin looked at Lars.

  “You could try that, of course, but whether they believe that Liv is incapable of paying more is another question. What about your company, Liv? Could you borrow against that?”

  Liv shook her head. “Not for that amount. The sale price was just about 100 million.”

  “Well, wait a minute. The canceled deal was for the same amount, wasn’t it?” Martin asked.

  Liv nodded.

  “Was the price public knowledge?”

  “No, at least not through us, except that the buyer, agent, and notary were obviously all privy to it.”

 

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