Project Nirvana (35 page)

“Already checked,” Wilhelmsson said. “According to one person in Vecdi Gönül’s circle of acquaintances, he was in Stockholm that week. A few others say that he was working in the restaurant as usual, but SÄPO believes that it’s a lie to cover up any risk of shame on the family. Apparently, that’s the custom among Turks.”

“There’s the first hole in their case,” Walter thought aloud, looking amused. “I want the names of the witnesses that say he was in Stockholm.”

“Sorry. SÄPO has already put a lid on the investigation.”

“Already?”

Wilhelmsson nodded.

Walter looked at the floor with a blank stare. There were too many loose ends in his head right now. He needed to gather his thoughts. What was the connection between Leo Brageler, Tor Hedman and Martin Borg? Was the information on the CD the secret of Drug-X?

His mobile phone rang. He squinted at the display and answered eagerly when he saw who the caller was. He listened intently for about a minute before he ended the call with a “Well done!”

“Carlinder has crunched tons of transaction records for pre-paid SIM cards that have been activated recently and has managed to triangulate a position where lots of new cards have been logged into a base station for the first time,” Walter said.

“What’s the location?” Jonna asked impatiently.

“It’s in the middle of nowhere outside Örebro,” he said.

“What is there?”

“Nothing. That’s what makes it interesting.”

“What’s interesting about that?” asked Wilhelmsson.

“Well, why would twenty different people activate their new numbers for the first time in the middle of nowhere?”

“Granted. But the data from the operator could be inaccurate,” Wilhelmsson suggested.

“Unlikely – because the data comes from different operators using different base stations and masts.”

Wilhelmsson looked at Jonna, unconvinced.

“Are Hedman and his lawyer waiting for us?” Walter asked.

“For the last fifteen minutes,” Wilhelmsson said. “His lawyer is not happy about being kept waiting.”

“No, I guess not. He gets a fixed fee and probably wants to get back to his office and start charging time to the next client.”

“What do we do with Alice McDaniel?” Jonna asked. “We’ll have to let her go soon.”

“Yes, we can’t hold a witness locked up against her will. But we need to keep her a bit longer. I’m not quite finished with her yet.”

“So what do we do with her?”

“Call Julén and say that McDaniel may be laundering money for Brageler and even protecting a fugitive, or something similar.”

“You want me to lie? To Julén?” Jonna felt her pulse race again.

“Yes, she’s not going to cry over it. I need to hold the English woman for another twenty-four hours. We can always say we got the facts wrong, if there is any protest from her later. It won’t be the first time. She’ll get two thousand crowns in compensation from the Prosecutor’s Office for illegal detention and a letter of apology from Julén.”

“But . . .”

“We have some important matters to clear up,” Walter cut her short in a resolute voice. “How was Leo Brageler able to get Alice’s ex-directory number? What is the significance of the mobile number containing your birth date? We’ll need the NBI’s intelligence specialists to ask their British counterparts for the caller’s number that was used to call her at home. Then we need to find out who is the owner of the bank account. The specialists can even untie that knot for us.”

“SÄPO has taken over,” Jonna remarked.

“Yes, but for the time being only the investigation into the pizzeria owner in Malmö. I’m calling Cederberg and Jonsson to take care of the NBI and the English woman. You and Wilhelmsson will take a SWAT team to that place in the woods outside Örebro. Turn over every stone if necessary, but don’t tell the local police where you’re going. If the SWAT team ask about the destination, tell them the Kumla prison. I’ll tell them that we need a special escort from Kumla to the detention-cell block here.”

Wilhelmsson protested. “Why must we lie to other police officers?”

“Because we have a leak, perhaps several, within the police department.

Wilhelmsson looked at Walter, still unconvinced.

“I take full responsibility,” Walter said. “I’m still in charge, and you will follow my orders regardless of what you think. Get moving. I have to break Hedman before SÄPO take him.”

Wilhelmsson wanted to protest further, but Walter ignored him.

Fifteen minutes later, Jonna sat in an unmarked police car, with her Kevlar bulletproof vest chafing her neck. Her Sig Sauer was loaded with a full magazine and she had two spare magazines strapped to her vest. Both she and Wilhelmsson were silent for the most part during the drive to Örebro. Ten kilometres before the exit to Route 50, Wilhelmsson broke the silence.

“I’ve only been with the department for three years,” he said. “This is my first time leading an operation.”

Jonna noticed the nervousness in his voice. She didn’t blame him. Her own mouth was dry for the same reason. “The SWAT-team leader will take charge of the actual operation,” she answered, trying to convey a calm confidence, but realizing her voice was also tense.

“I know that, but I’m the highest-ranking police officer on the scene. That’s why I will have to tell our colleagues in the vehicles behind us about the change in plans. That the routine escort from Kumla prison has now become a raid in the middle of nowhere.”

“I’m sure they will understand,” said Jonna, forcing a smile. She didn’t actually believe it herself.

“We’ll soon find out,” Wilhelmsson sighed. He announced a brief stop over the police radio and pulled over to the side of the road. Three unmarked vans stopped behind him.

“What’s going on?” the SWAT-team leader asked.

“Change of plans,” Wilhelmsson said. “We have to search a forested area to the north.” He pointed along Route 50, which they had just turned onto.

The team leader looked at Wilhelmsson, curiously.

“We’re just conducting a search of the area,” continued Wilhelmsson.

“What about the special transport?”

“We have been ordered to abort the escorted transfer and go to this location in the woods,” Jonna interrupted. “I’ve just received a tip from a confidential informant that there may be an escape attempt and that the suspects are in this area of the woods. Haven’t Gröhn or Lilja informed you?”

“No,” the team leader said. “More importantly, the communications centre has not been informed.”

“Communications don’t always work as planned,” Jonna smiled, weakly. Wilhelmsson backed up her statement with a concerned expression. The team leader shook his head and walked back to his van.

“I want a briefing five kilometres from the target location,” he yelled, before slamming the van door shut.

Jonna gave a thumbs-up and realized that she was sweating heavily inside her bulletproof vest. Working with Walter required lots of nerve and a sack of lies for his schemes. Wilhelmsson was more exposed than she, which was a small comfort. If they were just following orders, then surely there was no reason for concern? She hoped she was right.

Five kilometres from the position shown by the GPS co-
ordinates, the group stopped at a road sign, where the road had been widened to allow passing traffic. Three hundred metres farther down the road, they were going to turn onto a private, gravel road, according to the map. It came to a dead end at a waterfall and no buildings were shown on the map. Yet there was an electricity cable somewhere close to the road, which had been installed since the 1950s according to the electricity company. The service had not been in use for 40 years. It had been billed to a deceased civil servant at the Fortifications Authority. Were they heading for a camping site?

The team leader looked at Wilhelmsson with mounting scepticism. “So you don’t know what the target location is?”

“No, I don’t.”

“Or number of suspects?”

“No details on that either,” Wilhelmsson replied.

“So what was the tip then?” the team leader asked, glaring at Jonna.

She cleared her throat, although she didn’t need to. “That someone was preparing to hijack our transit vehicle today. Nothing more than that,” she lied.

Jonna felt the sweat starting to run down her spine. She was now telling brazen lies to her colleague and consciously exposing them to potential danger. There could be a gang of fanatics, armed to the teeth, waiting for them.

Walter sat down
in front of Tor Hedman and his lawyer. He poured water into a glass and folded his hands together on the table. He looked calmly from the green defence lawyer to the hardened villain with the blood of several lives on his hands. Walter allowed himself a contented smile. The lawyer and Tor looked at him with some suspicion.

“Our Internal Affairs section has now arrested Martin Borg and he’s starting to unburden his guilty conscience,” Walter began. “If I were you, I would start to do that too. The way things are now, it looks as if Tor is the one behind the killings in Gnesta. Is that a correct account?”

Tor’s face did not move a muscle.

“I would like to speak with Martin Borg’s counsel,” the lawyer countered quickly.

“You can’t,” said Walter. “You have both been served with gagging orders.”

The lawyer exchanged glances with Tor.

“Haven’t you worked out anything yet?” Walter asked in a calm voice. “I’m assuming that you haven’t been playing cards while we were otherwise engaged? If you don’t have something to offer us, then your home team seems have wasted a useful time-out opportunity.”

The lawyer’s face flushed.

“Is the earlier deal still on?” Tor suddenly asked.

The lawyer raised a hand and asked Tor to take it easy, but Tor had other plans. After a short exchange of words, the young lawyer had to accept it.

“I’ll do what I can,” Walter said. “But I would be lying if I made any promises.”

“So what’s it to be? Three or four years?” asked Tor.

“You’ll have to ask the Chief Prosecutor. She’s on her way here, so you’ll be able to ask her that question yourself.”

Tor paused. “Is it one of those bloody, menopausal cows?” he said, after a moment’s thought. “The type that wants to set examples and show everyone that she can be hard on criminals too?”

“I suggest that you be on your best behaviour. If you get the Chief Prosecutor on your side, then it will be so much easier to fix the other stuff.”

Tor grunted something incomprehensible.

“Do you want to start right away?” Walter asked, starting the recorder just as one of the female clerks came in to act as the interview notary.

For a long time, Tor looked unconvinced. Then he opened his mouth to speak.

Martin Borg felt
the taste of victory in his mouth as he walked through the labyrinthine corridors under the police headquarters towards the detention-cell block entrance. The Mentor had made a promise and then fulfilled it, by arranging a corpse that matched the description of Jerry Salminen’s accomplice at Gnesta. Although it was up to him to fix the details, he felt back in the game. A gang shooting in the restaurant industry wasn’t anything that would make the headlines.

Kokk had been speechless when Martin explained that the dead Vecdi Gönül was without a doubt Jerry Salminen’s fugitive accomplice. The SÄPO machine was moving at full speed and now Martin’s situation was viewed in a different light. Soon he would be able to solve all his problems and once again focus on the most important issue at hand. The war against Islam.

In five minutes, he would be signing out Hedman from County CID and put him under his own investigation, even if the practical details would be handled by others from Martin’s section. Chief Prosecutor Julén had been hard pushed to keep Kokk and SÄPO’s operational leadership out when there was such convincing evidence.

As for Hedman, all he had to do was to keep his mouth shut. Martin was going to make him an irresistible offer that would also be the final solution of his Hedman problem. Martin put such thoughts aside for the moment when he saw Hedman’s lanky body behind the table in the interview room.

Tor looked hunted, as he sat there accompanied by a young lawyer in a grey suit and garish tie. On the other side of the table, the pensioner Gröhn was sitting together with an interview notary. Martin loved the element of surprise, and the look on Gröhn’s face as he and two colleagues from SÄPO stepped through the door was priceless.

Martin presented the requisition to Walter.

“Tor Hedman is going to SÄPO headquarters,” he said quickly and watched Hedman, whose brain was now fully occupied with trying to figure out if Borg’s entrance was a good thing.

Walter took the papers from Borg’s hand and read them summarily. “I’m not finished here yet,” he said, and tossed the papers onto the table. “You’ll have to wait about an hour or so.”

Martin nodded to his colleagues to fetch Hedman. “It says ‘without delay’, if I have read it correctly,” he said.

“Chief Prosecutor Julén is on her way here,” Walter protested. “She will participate herself in the interview.”

“Quite correct,” Martin smiled. “Upstairs at SÄPO, not here.”

There was an awkward silence in the room. The lawyer fidgeted and the clerk’s eyes flicked back and forth between Walter and Borg. Finally, Walter gave up and folded his arms.

“He’s all yours,” he said.

“Just make your mark on the papers, please,” Martin smiled, holding out a pen.

Walter grabbed the pen and signed. “As you please,” he said, dropping the pen onto the table.

Martin picked up the gold-coloured pen, put it in the inside pocket of his suit, and explained to the lawyer that the interview was over. A new time would be set later in the day, by the investigation leader Åsa Julén.

Walter sat silently in the empty interrogation room. He had asked the clerk to close the door as she went out and he stared at the chair Hedman had been sitting in just a few minutes ago. Walter had spotted a crack in Tor’s façade and was close to punching a big hole through his increasingly shaky reasoning. Perhaps a few more hours would have been enough for Walter to get him where he wanted him.