‘No, no, he’s fine.’
Was he? She had no idea. He might be dying of fear in his cell, facing the inescapable fact that he would be forced to return to his homeland.
‘However, we are wondering about something you mentioned to my colleagues when they came to see you this afternoon,’ she said.
‘Oh?’ Moussa Khelifi’s voice was full of suspicion.
‘You said that Zakaria has a sister.’
‘He has several sisters,’ Moussa said curtly.
‘But how many of them live in Sweden?’
She heard a sigh at the other end of the line.
‘What’s that got to do with anything?’
‘Possibly nothing,’ Fredrika said, trying to hide the fact that the police were now interested in the sister who had suddenly cropped up in their investigation. ‘We’d just like to know her name.’
And where we can get hold of her.
When Zakaria’s uncle didn’t reply, Fredrika went on: ‘It’s for Zakaria’s sake. We think she might be able to help us. Quite a lot.’
That was what they thought, wasn’t it? Why else would they want to talk to her?
‘Help you in what way?’
‘Unfortunately, I’m not at liberty to go into that, but I can assure you that anything you can tell us would be extremely useful at this stage.’
She wished he would stop dithering, that she could convince him, because she couldn’t cope with soft-soaping him much longer.
‘Sofi,’ Moussa said at last. ‘Her name is Sofi Khelifi.’
‘Thank you. Thank you so much. Do you know where we can find her?’
‘No. When she’s in Sweden she usually stays with various close friends. And she’s stayed with Zakaria and his girlfriend now and again.’
Fredrika thought about what he had just said.
‘When she’s in Sweden? Does that mean she doesn’t live here on a permanent basis?’
But at that point, Moussa Khelifi decided he had had enough.
‘I don’t know anything about that,’ he said. ‘I only see her a few times a year. If you want more detailed information you’ll have to speak to someone else; I can’t tell you any more.’
Shortly afterwards, Fredrika ended the call with a request for a picture of Sofi. Moussa agreed that they could have one, but they would have to come and fetch it themselves. Fredrika organised that, then looked at the name she had written down. Sofi Khelifi. A sister who sometimes lived in Sweden, sometimes elsewhere.
She picked up her notebook and went to see Sebastian, who was talking to a colleague.
‘I’ll check it right away,’ he said. ‘Come with me.’
Fredrika followed him into his office, where he logged onto his computer and started a series of searches on Zakaria’s sister. Fredrika peered over his shoulder, but there were no matches. Sofi Khelifi didn’t exist. Or at least she wasn’t visible, and that said something about her that Fredrika didn’t like. It was difficult to make yourself invisible in a country like Sweden.
‘Could she be using a different name?’
‘That’s possible,’ Sebastian said. ‘Plus, you said her uncle indicated that she doesn’t live here all the time, which means that she could be based in another country covered by the Schengen Agreement and travel in and out of Sweden as often as she likes without coming to our attention.’
‘Can we put out a call for her?’
‘I’m not so sure about that; we don’t suspect her of any crime. But we could ask some of our partners if they know who she is.’ He swallowed and stared at the screen. ‘Although of course that means there’s a significant risk that we won’t get a response until it’s too late.’
Fredrika drew her jacket more tightly around her. Exhaustion had crept up on her, threatening to paralyse her. The investigation had no direction, it was spreading out like a fan. And now they were looking for someone who could be anywhere.
‘Is Eden back?’
‘No.’
Fredrika thought Alex had been right: they were putting their energy into the wrong aspects of this case. On the other hand, it seemed ridiculous to ignore the reasons behind the hijacking.
Alex. Where had he gone? She hadn’t heard from him for a long time.
‘We ought to speak to Zakaria as well,’ she said. ‘And his girlfriend. One of them must know where we can get hold of his sister, if we think it’s necessary.’
Sebastian didn’t move; he was lost in thought.
‘That’s up to Eden,’ he said.
So they waited for Eden to come back to the office.
The evening pressed down on Stockholm and Kungsholmen like an impenetrable lid. Fredrika gazed at all the committed souls, single-mindedly working away at the investigation. She liked what she saw; there was nothing frivolous or disorganised about Säpo. Everyone seemed to know their place, everyone fulfilled their role with something that looked like professional pride, at least on the surface. And there was something else: a warmth and a sense of community that she hadn’t seen in any other workplace. Not necessarily between staff and bosses, but between colleagues. Säpo also seemed to have made significant progress when it came to recruiting civilian personnel. Someone had mentioned that they used to have a trainee scheme, and Fredrika remembered seeing the adverts. She had considered applying for one of the posts, but had changed her mind. By that stage she had already been working for several years, and couldn’t face the idea of starting all over again from the beginning.
Sebastian excused himself to go to the toilet, and Fredrika thought about Zakaria’s uncle. Zakaria had a sister that no one on the investigating team had met, a sister who hadn’t come forward at any stage during the legal proceedings. She could of course have fallen out with her brother and therefore wished to distance herself from him, but Fredrika had the distinct feeling that there was another explanation for her silence.
Sebastian came back a few minutes later, accompanied by one of his analysts.
‘One of the numbers you suggested we should contact to check if Zakaria’s phone used to belong to someone else is an unregistered pay-as-you-go SIM card, and can’t be identified. Another belongs to a person whom we absolutely do not want to contact. But the third ought to work.’
Fredrika felt something that resembled gratitude. As far as Zakaria was concerned, the key issues were his phone and his sister. And now they were getting close to an answer to at least one of those issues.
47
19:55
On the floor where GD had his office, Säpo looked somewhat different. The walls were painted in a colour reminiscent of a private medical practice, and there was no open-plan office; everyone had a room of their own. Eden said hello to Henrik, the head of counter-espionage, when they met in the corridor outside GD’s door. He gave a start when he saw her, but smiled politely. Why the hell would he be stressed?
‘I guess you’re pretty busy today?’ he said.
‘Yes, we’re under a fair amount of pressure,’ Eden replied as she knocked on GD’s door.
She couldn’t get her head around Henrik or his boring job.
GD didn’t seem particularly pleased to see her.
‘I presume you’re here to discuss our response to the information we received at Rosenbad?’
Before she had time to say anything, he went on:
‘As I see it, we ought to consider contacting Karim Sassi by phone in order to make it clear that he’s not going to get away with his plan. The demands will not be met, nor will he get the chance to stage his spectacular finale by crashing the plane into the Capitol building in Washington, DC. We no longer have anything to gain by not confronting him.’
He hadn’t asked Eden to sit down, but she did so anyway.
‘That’s an interesting idea,’ she said. ‘But there’s a better option.’
‘Such as?’
‘We ask the co-pilot, Erik Recht, to take over the plane and land it.’
She had thought about it for
a long time, and had reached the conclusion that they had no choice. The plane simply had to be brought down.
‘And we can be sure that this guy is on our side?’
‘Absolutely.’
‘What happens if he fails? That means Karim will know he’s been exposed. But then of course he’d realise that if we called him anyway.’
‘Exactly,’ Eden said. ‘It doesn’t seem to me that we’re risking any more by letting Erik try to take control of the plane than by confronting Karim.’
GD seemed to agree with her, but Eden could see that something else was bothering him. Something he didn’t want to share with her right now.
She shook off her unease. There was something else she wanted to discuss, but GD was still talking about the hijacking.
‘Do we think there’s a bomb on board?’
‘No. At least, I don’t believe there is, particularly now that we know Karim is involved. A bomb seems unnecessary if the pilot is on the side of the hijackers.’
‘But maybe that’s exactly why there is a bomb,’ GD said. ‘The hijackers might have foreseen that we would work out Karim’s involvement, and therefore supplemented their plan with a bomb. Or maybe they didn’t trust him.’
‘You mean the bomb is there to put pressure on Karim as well?’
‘I’m not saying that’s definitely the case, just that it could be.’
‘It’s an interesting point of view, but I think one of the few things we can be sure about is that Karim is a part of the hijacking.’
‘Of course, but even the most hardened criminal can get cold feet.’
And that’s why there could be a bomb on board, as a kind of insurance to make sure Karim didn’t pull out? Eden thought it was highly unlikely. If Karim believed there was a bomb, why was he refusing to approach a different country that would welcome him if he decided to go for an emergency landing? There was very little risk that the hijackers would know if he changed course; even if they were among the passengers, they wouldn’t notice anything apart from the fact that the plane was either in the air or coming in to land.
‘Actually, I didn’t come here to discuss the Americans’ plans to shoot down the plane,’ Eden said.
‘You surprise me.’
The tone was neutral, but Eden sensed a frustration that she didn’t understand.
‘Zakaria Khelifi.’
GD looked troubled.
‘Yes?’
Eden went over what they had already discussed on the phone, and explained how they intended to proceed. She also forewarned GD that the government might revise its decision if it turned out that the mobile had indeed belonged to someone else. That was really why she had come to see him; they had to take this possible turn of events into account.
‘The mobile, Ellis and the sister,’ GD summarised.
‘We have to sort this out,’ Eden said. ‘And fast.’
‘Of course; if there are question marks we have to look into the matter right away. I’m just wondering why he’s refusing to co-operate with us.’
‘You mean Zakaria?’
‘Yes. If he’s got nothing to hide, then why won’t he give us the name of the person who used to own the phone?’
‘Perhaps because he does have something to hide,’ Eden said; like everyone else, she had asked herself that question over and over again. ‘Or to protect someone. Or both.’
GD got up and went over to the window. Eden wasn’t sure why; it wasn’t as he if he had a lovely view. He stood with his back to her for what felt like several minutes. Something was bothering him. A lot.
Eden fiddled with a bunch of keys in her pocket. The keys to her house.
She wondered if Mikael was still angry. He probably was. He had never understood what was important in life. Or to be more accurate – what was most important.
Making a difference for other people, not just yourself and your family.
‘Do you know why I appointed you, Eden?’ GD said.
His voice was rough, as if anger was making his vocal cords contract. For some reason it made her feel nervous.
What was this all about?
‘Because you knew I was the best.’
GD turned to face her.
‘Partly. But mostly because you had a reputation for being loyal, and for having great integrity. Integrity and loyalty, that’s what I was looking for.’
Eden held her breath for a moment before she replied: ‘And that’s what you found, at the highest level.’
GD nodded slowly.
‘There you go then.’
Nothing else. Just ‘there you go then’.
Eden was almost angry. If there was one thing she couldn’t stand, it was game playing. What reason did GD have to question her loyalty?
Without stopping to think, she said, ‘If you have questions about my loyalty, let me say this: my loyalty lies exclusively with the assignment we are recruited to carry out. Not with Säpo. Not with you. Not with the Americans, and not with the government. With the assignment. And if that doesn’t suit you, just say the word. I can be out of here in less than ten minutes.’
It was true, and it had happened before – when she resigned from her first summer job in a nursing home, where the staff treated the elderly residents so badly that Eden would always be afraid of growing old. And when she resigned from her summer job on a newspaper while she was a student. A newspaper where everything was about increasing circulation, whatever it took, sending Eden out on stories so cheap that she was ashamed to call herself a human being.
And when she resigned from MI5. But that was the last thing she intended to discuss with GD.
She thought she could detect something resembling sorrow in his expression.
‘I definitely don’t want to lose you,’ he said. ‘I just want you to do your very best to resolve this hijacking.’
‘You have my word on that,’ she said. ‘I’ll be devoting all my time to doing my job. To the best of my ability.’
GD stroked his chin as he watched her turn to walk away.
‘Good,’ he said. ‘Then we’re in agreement.’
She hoped so, because she had been honest with him.
The assignment was the only important thing, and it took precedence over everything else. And that included freeing those who were innocent.
‘I want to question Ellis again,’ she said, turning back. ‘We have to find out why he retracted his statement identifying Zakaria as a collaborator.’
GD nodded in agreement. Ellis was easy to tackle; Karim was more difficult.
Eden was also thinking about Captain Sassi. How did you hold someone who was no longer on the ground accountable for their actions?
She had no answer to that question.
48
FLIGHT 573
‘Dad, it’s me.’
‘Sorry?’
Alex sounded annoyed.
Erik pressed the back of his hand to his forehead, praying that his father would be able to hear him.
‘It’s Erik,’ he said, trying to speak more clearly without raising his voice. ‘Dad, it’s Erik.’
It took a second, but then his father spoke.
‘Thank God.’
It was no more than a faint whisper.
‘Dad, are you there?’
‘I’m here. How are you?’
Fucked.
‘I’m fine. We all are. But I don’t know how long I can talk.’
‘I understand. Where are you?’
The question told Erik a great deal about what Alex already knew. He assumed that Erik wasn’t calling from the cockpit.
‘In first class.’
‘So Karim can’t hear you?’
Further confirmation that Erik had been right in his assessment of the situation.
Karim is flying us straight to our deaths.
‘No. Dad, I need some advice.’
‘I’m listening.’
I’m listening.
The words echoed through Erik�
�s mind. Had he ever turned to Alex for advice? He didn’t think so. Because Alex never listened, he just came up with solutions to problems that Erik didn’t have. Because he easily – so very easily – resorted to bullying tactics.
Alex had never earned Erik’s trust.
Until now.
‘Are you tired, Erik?’
Erik dashed away the tears.
‘I can cope.’
I can I can I can.
He gathered his strength.
‘But we have a problem on board,’ he said. ‘Or several, it would appear. Karim isn’t himself. He’s been behaving oddly all day. I think . . .’
He felt sick, thought he might throw up.
‘I think he’s involved. I don’t know how or why, or in what way, and I know it sounds illogical, but I’m absolutely certain.’
The words were coming faster now; he couldn’t stop himself.
‘He insists on staying close to the US border and circling until we run out of fuel. If he isn’t granted permission to carry out an emergency landing, we’re going to crash into the sea or be shot down by the Americans.’
Erik shuffled lower in his seat, hoping that the passengers weren’t following the conversation, that he wasn’t attracting too much attention.
‘He’s fucking crazy, Dad. He seems disorientated; he started babbling about Washington as our destination instead of New York.’
Alex raised his voice.
‘Washington? For fuck’s sake, Erik, did you say Washington?’
Erik had heard that level of fear in his father’s voice only once before. When his mother was entering the final phase of her illness, and a courageous doctor delivered the news to Alex, Erik and his sister.
‘We’ve done all we can,’ the doctor had said. ‘We’ve tried everything possible, but that’s it. We’re not getting anywhere. Lena isn’t going to get better; she probably won’t make it to Christmas.’
There was nothing Erik hated remembering more about his mother’s illness and death than that dreadful day. And his father’s voice haunted him night after night, long after it was all over, long after the funeral.
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