She aimed her baton at Jonathan Lundh’s chest.
‘So, do you want to tell me, or should Marcus?’
He was clutching his injured thigh with both hands and trying not to look at her.
‘Okay, Marcus, off you go.’
She rested the baton on her shoulder.
‘It was a project … for school.’
‘Go on.’
‘Well, we had to do a project in media studies on the flow of information. We wanted to see if it was possible to get away with creating a fictitious character on a site. Wedge’s dad used to look at that cops’ site, that’s where we got the idea.’
She glanced at Jonathan Lundh, who still wasn’t talking.
‘Then one night his dad sat on his mobile and accidentally called home. Wedge heard the way they talked in the van …’
‘… about me,’ she filled in, and saw Jonathan look up.
‘You were fucking my dad …’ he snarled. ‘Even though you knew he had a family …’ She nodded slowly.
‘You’re quite right, Jonathan,’ she said. ‘And it’s not exactly something I’m proud of, if that’s any consolation. So that was why you chose me?’
‘Th-the project wasn’t really supposed to be that big. We thought about pretending to be a cop who’d gone off the rails, who’d end up blogging about wanting to commit suicide. We wanted to see if his colleagues would try to help him,’ Marcus went on.
‘I mean, the whole thing was about creating a profile, becoming a name. Like that girl at art school who pretended to be psychotic and ended up really famous …’
‘Marky, shut the fuck up!’ Jonathan snapped. ‘We haven’t got anything else to say to you, you fucking whore …’
She kicked him in the knee and he curled up into a ball.
‘You should think a bit about what you’re saying, Jonathan. Think about what they say about my state of mind on that site … A smart lad like you might be able to tell me what would happen if I broke your camera and then claimed I was forced to throw you both over the edge in self-defence?’
She saw his eyes open wide, as he tried to see any sign that she was joking. Instead she grabbed hold of his jacket and dragged him towards the edge.
Below a crowd had formed.
‘You’ve been terrorizing me for weeks …’ she went on, with her mouth close to his ear. ‘You’ve encouraged people to throw all sorts of shit at me, you almost ran me over, and you’ve threatened my brother’s life …’
She pulled him a bit closer to the edge. In spite of the whine and roar of the New Year fireworks, she could hear him gasp for breath.
‘Isn’t that right? The car outside my house, that was you, wasn’t it?’
‘Yes! Y-yes, for fuck’s sake!’ he yelled. ‘We just wanted to check you out. Then when you came running over …’
‘… you panicked?’
He nodded desperately, unable to tear his eyes from the cobblestones far below.
‘What about my brother, how does he fit into the picture?’
‘Coincidence. One day he just walked into the shop … Then everything just sort of fell into place …’
She pulled Jonathan Lundh back onto the platform and let go of him next to his friend.
‘What about all this?’ She nodded towards the roof of the Palace. ‘Whose idea was this?’
‘My brother’s an officer in the Guard,’ Marcus muttered. ‘He brought me up here last summer when they were lowering the flag.’
‘So the idea was that I’d think it was Henke sitting there on the edge? And I’d beg and plead for his life while you filmed it – okay, I get that. But how did you think you were going to get away?’
The two young men looked at each other, but neither of them answered. Rebecca thought for a few moments.
‘I see,’ she finally said. ‘Being led down in handcuffs and getting on television and in the papers would be the perfect climax to your little project.’ She nodded. ‘And because you didn’t actually have a hostage up here, you’d probably end up just getting a fine or a suspended sentence for some pissy minor offence. And I’d be hung out to dry while you got famous. Oh well, it’s not too late yet!’
She dragged them to their feet, untied the flag cord, and before they had time to work out what she was doing, she threaded it through the cuffs behind their backs. Then she tied the cord to the pole with reef knots and then shoved the two young men towards the balustrade so hard that they both ended up leaning over it.
A double, terrified scream – and the flag cord snapped tight with a jolt, leaving them hanging in the air with their knees still on the balustrade.
She could see the flashes from the mobile phones down among the crowd.
‘Smile and wave nicely, boys,’ she said. ‘You’re going to be famous.’
She went over to the bag, fished out the camera and, after a bit of fiddling about, pulled out the memory card.
On the staircase on the way down she found a hostage negotiator, and below him a heavily armed squad in black uniforms.
‘Everything’s fine,’ she said, waving her police ID.
She pointed at the phone in one of the man’s hands.
‘But you can call Tobbe Lundh in the rapid response unit and tell him to come and get his son down. And tell him to bring two pairs of clean trousers …’
43
All Your Bases Belong To Us
The moment the hood was pulled off him, the world exploded into colours, whistles and explosions. It took him a moment to realize that it was midnight and then another to realize where he was.
Seventy metres above the city centre, with Sveavägen’s salt-wet carriageways far below between his dangling feet, and just the narrow strip of the concrete ledge under his buttocks to stop him from falling.
The foot at his back pushed, shrinking the width of the strip by half and twisting his stomach into a panic-stricken lump.
He tried to push back and keep his centre of balance the right side of the edge. But the foot was stopping him, nudging him inexorably forward.
‘Are you enjoying the view, loverboy?’ Sophie whispered in his ear as the Stockholm sky exploded all round his head.
‘Right-hand pocket of my trousers, a USB stick!’ he roared, trying to make himself heard above the fireworks.
‘Don’t let me fall, for fuck’s sake!’
His buttocks were slowly slipping across the ledge as Elroy continued to push him.
Nineteen floors below the street was full of New Year revellers.
‘And what were you going to do with it, dear little Henrik?’ Sophie again, right next to his ear.
‘Plug it into the server, upload a trojan,’ he sniffed. ‘Please, please, don’t let …’
Suddenly his backside lost contact with the concrete and he slid over the edge.
But just as he started to scream in terror Elroy caught him and dragged him back up onto the roof. They left him lying there while they searched him.
The USB stick was the first thing they took.
She had been right about most of it.
MayBey and Tobbe were connected.
But instead of a muscular cop in a dark uniform, her internet nemesis turned out to be two spotty little eighteen-year-olds who had watched too much television. It was the film quotes that had put her on the right track.
Judge Dredd, Clint, Taxi Driver. The whole thing felt like some teenage boy’s bedroom fantasy. Once Jonathan Lundh’s name occurred to her, she only had to look up his profile on Facebook, and sure enough all the films were there, neatly listed on his personal details page, along with the fact that he was attending a high school that specialized in IT. On the internet you might be able to pretend to be whoever you like, she thought. But the truth is also out there, if you know where to look for it.
Talking about looking …
She pulled out her mobile and dialled a number.
‘Where are you?’ she asked when the man at the other end answered.
<
br /> They were herding him between them like a sheep.
Elroy was holding his upper arm, but there was no need for that at all. Even though they had cut the plastic binder-strap from his wrists, he was finished. He could still feel the after-effects from the taser they’d zapped him with, making his movements sluggish, and the whole nightmare scenario up on the roof had basically broken him.
He rubbed his nose with the bottom of one arm to get rid of the tears that persisted in leaking out.
When they reached the large, open room they could hear voices from Philip’s office. He could make out silhouettes through the frosted glass walls. The clink of glasses, then the bubbling laughter that he recognized so well …
Without warning his legs suddenly gave out and he collapsed. His head hit the edge of Sophie’s desk and he felt the skin on his forehead break.
They made no attempt to pick him up, and just left him crawling around on the floor for a few moments.
Grinning while he fumbled with his hands under the desk.
Then he got hold of the office chair and used it to clamber laboriously to his feet. He could feel a warm trickle of blood seeping slowly through his eyebrow.
‘Here,’ Elroy muttered, pressing a tissue into HP’s hand as he shoved him forward.
A moment later the door opened and they were inside.
Six people in the room, all the section heads, all holding glasses of champagne.
‘Welcome, Henrik, we’ve been waiting for you,’ Philip Argos said cheerfully.
By his side, a little too close, Rilke was smiling her most beautiful smile.
‘Here.’
Elroy put the little USB stick down on Philip’s desk.
‘Dejan, would you mind?’ Philip nodded.
Dejan walked across the room, picked up the stick and plugged it into a laptop on the desk.
‘Workless network off WASSAT …’ he chuckled cruelly, firing a quick look at HP. ‘After all, we don’t want to risk any infection …’
The other team leaders, with the exception of Rilke, gathered round the screen. HP couldn’t help glancing over at her. But she wasn’t even looking at him.
He pressed the tissue harder against the cut in his forehead, but the blood wouldn’t stop.
‘Ooh, look at that!’ Beens said, peering over Dejan’s shoulder. ‘Not bad at all!’
Dejan clicked the mouse, then typed in a few quick commands.
‘Yes, I can only agree with Beens. Whoever put this spy program together knew what he was doing.’
He typed in a few more commands, then stood up and pulled the USB stick out.
‘If the trojan had got into the mainframe we’d have been in trouble … Looks like it would have started sending confidential information to an external client. Customer information, user IDs, blog aliases, you name it. God knows what might have happened if he’d succeeded.’
He held the stick out to HP.
‘You really did try to sink us, lad …’ he said in a voice that sounded almost surprised.
Suddenly everyone in the room seemed to be staring at him.
He could practically feel the hatred in their eyes.
Frank took a step forward, fists clenched, but HP stood perfectly still. The blow wasn’t even particularly hard, a stomach-punch that he more or less managed to steel himself against before it struck. Knees on the carpet, a sigh as the air went out of him. The guy didn’t even have the guts to punch him in the face …
‘That’s enough, Frank,’ Philip said curtly as Sophie and her brother dragged HP to his feet. ‘I think Henrik has already realized the seriousness of his position – haven’t you?’
HP nodded mutely.
‘You, a convicted criminal, broke in here with a stolen passcard with the intention of stealing confidential company information.’
He took the memory stick from Dejan and waved it in HP’s face.
‘Aggravated theft, or industrial espionage, probably a year or two in prison, I’d guess. And I don’t suppose that will do your sister’s future career prospects any good at all …’
HP started.
‘Don’t involve my sister in this!’ he muttered.
Philip smiled.
‘So there is something you care about after all, Henrik. In other words, you’re not entirely without morals …’
Frank, Dejan and the others grinned, but he didn’t care.
‘Get to the point, Philip,’ he sighed. ‘I’ve got something you want, haven’t I? Otherwise the cops would be busy scraping me off the pavement by now. After all, you don’t seem too bothered if you have to step over a few dead bodies …’
He raised his head and looked the bunch of them in the eyes for the first time. This time it was their turn to look away.
All except Philip. He gestured towards Elroy.
‘Is he …?’
‘Completely clean, no microphones or transmitters.’
‘Good!’
He turned back to HP again.
‘You’re quite right, Henrik. I want your shares, you can sell them to me at an acceptable market rate so that no-one can claim afterwards that you were put under undue pressure. So I’m prepared to offer you twice what you managed to scrape together to pay Monika.’
He gave a sign to Stoffe, who took out a plastic folder and started to lay several documents out on the desk.
‘And there are plenty of witnesses here who can testify that the purchase took place perfectly legally.’
HP nodded wearily.
‘Okay, I get it …’
He took a deep breath, to give himself time to think.
‘But I want to add one condition to the deal.’
‘You’re hardly in a position to make demands, Henrik, but let’s hear it …’
‘I’ll sign your forms and go off into the sunset as long as you agree not to call the cops. I’m not exactly keen to do time again.’
Philip nodded.
‘That sounds like it might be worth considering, doesn’t it?’
He turned towards the others, but none of them had any comment.
‘So what do we do about the money?’ HP said.
‘We’ve opened a Western Union account for you, the money will be transferred the moment you sign the forms.’
‘No need, I’ve got a numbered account we can use.’
Philip met his gaze for a few seconds. Then he smiled.
‘You planned for this eventuality, didn’t you?’
HP shrugged his shoulders.
‘In that case it would seem that I didn’t entirely misjudge you, Henrik. No plan is so good that it doesn’t need a backup.’
He shook his head.
‘You could have gone far with us, Henrik, further than you could ever imagine …’
‘Well …’ HP replied. ‘We’ll never know, will we?’
Philip eyed him coldly.
‘So, Henrik, seeing as you were prepared for this scenario, I daresay you have a price in mind? How much did you manage to scrape together to persuade Monika to sell? I offered her a million but I can imagine that she gave you a good discount. So what was it – fifty, one hundred?’
‘Five!’
Philip grinned.
‘So you managed to persuade my sister-in-law to sell her shares to you for a measly five thousand. Either you’re a brilliant negotiator or she must really hate me … Oh well, we’ll transfer ten thousand to your account.’
HP slowly shook his head.
‘Not five thousand …’
He left a dramatic pause. Then he smiled.
‘Five million …!’
44
The game is up
In the streets outside calm had descended and only a few lingering plumes of fireworks shot up sporadically into the night sky. He was made to wait for a while, before being bundled off to the toilet to tidy himself up. The cut over his eye wouldn’t stop bleeding and he asked for a roll of tape to try to hold it together. Just as he was finished the o
ffice door opened.
‘You can come back in now, Henrik …’
The party atmosphere seemed to have subsided somewhat. He hadn’t been able to avoid hearing parts of the heated discussion while he was waiting.
‘We’ve checked what you said,’ Philip began, ‘and it looks as though you did somehow manage to get hold of five million, like you said. Obviously, we’re very interested to hear how that came about …’
‘Lottery win,’ HP said, cutting him off.
He saw them look at each other.
‘In that case we have a proposal,’ Philip said curtly. ‘Six million, that’s as much as we can get hold of at such short notice.’
‘Seven!’ HP retorted quickly.
Philip took a deep breath and from the corner of his eye HP saw Elroy shuffle his feet.
‘Okay, six, then!’ he said. ‘As long as we can get it out of the way. But remember, no police!’
‘Good,’ Philip said. ‘Dejan has the transfer up on the screen.’
He nodded to Dejan, who had set up a new laptop to replace the infected one.
‘He’ll transfer the money once all the papers are signed, then you can log in to the account yourself and double-check.’
HP nodded.
Stoffe put the papers in front of him on the desk, and he signed them, one after the other.
Then Philip did the same, before Stoffe and Frank witnessed the signatures.
‘Okay, you can transfer the money now,’ Philip commanded once they were done.
Dejan tapped at his keyboard, then supervised HP while he double-checked the transaction. ArgosEye’s entire current account must have been cleared out.
Buying shares with the company’s own money, wasn’t that sort of thing illegal? But obviously that presupposed that anyone cared.
‘Happy?’
HP nodded.
‘Good. Then it’s time for us to go our separate ways,’ Philip smiled. ‘You may be a wealthy man, but it will be a while before you can enjoy your money. And obviously we’ll put in a serious claim for damages. I would imagine the amount will run to something like six million. What do the rest of you think?’
The others leered scornfully and suddenly everyone seemed much happier.
‘Elroy, would you be so kind as to call and arrange transport for Henrik?’
The Game Trilogy Page 63
