“The man has now disappeared into the building. Either he lives there, or he’s visiting someone.”
“If he lives there, wouldn’t that be listed in the BMW’s ownership information?”
Elin had sent in the car’s license plate number to Transportstyrelsen, the central office for transportation. Transportstyrelsen had a text messaging service that worked quickly and without any issues. You simply sent a text with the license plate number, and you would receive a message with the vehicle and owner information. Each inquiry cost three kronor. Thank God for Swedish transparency!
The BMW belonged to a Bengt Persson in Nacka, a district in the southern part of Stockholm. So far, it had not been reported stolen.
“Yeah, I know,” said Lars. “Maybe he borrowed the car. Or it was stolen, and the owner doesn’t realize it yet ... So now a light has gone on in the apartment on the top floor, which is the third floor. I think he lives there. Elin, I’m going to wait a while longer, and then I’ll end the surveillance.”
“Don’t you want to check out the apartment? Saga could be in there.”
“No, I don’t think so. We’re definitely not dealing with a single individual here. And if we force our way in and Saga isn’t there, then we could jeopardize the entire rescue mission. And that’s totally apart from the fact that Liv gave us clear orders not to interfere.”
“Got it. So what do I do?”
“You can drive home. That’s all for today.”
“OK, what’s on for tomorrow?”
“Head over to the office first, and I’ll get in touch with you then.”
“OK, talk to you tomorrow.”
Elin hung up. She had finished earlier than expected. Now all she needed to do was drive home. She lived on Kungsholmen, one of the islands in the center of Stockholm. It was rush hour, and even if most of the traffic was headed out of the city, it would still take some time to slog through it.
But first, Elin wanted to drive past Liv’s house one more time. Somehow, she just couldn’t imagine the surveillance as being completely done. She started the car, reversed direction, and turned onto Liv’s street after a short stretch. She drove slowly past the property where the BMW had been parked. And she was right: an Audi now sat in its place. She memorized the license plate number and kept driving, repeating the number out loud so she wouldn’t forget it.
After the next bend in the road, Elin pulled over to the right and took out her cell phone. She entered the license plate number and sent another text message to Transportstyrelsen. Then she set off for Stockholm. Shortly before Mörby Centrum, her phone beeped. She looked at the screen. It was a text from Transportstyrelsen:
Audi A4 2.0, black, 2012
Registered September 1, 2012,
to Eva Carlsson, Örebro
Reported stolen
Bingo! The car was hot. Elin laughed to herself. Now she was sure that both the BMW and the Audi were related to the kidnapping. She thought for a moment. She had an extra GPS tracker, but how could she attach it to the Audi? She didn’t want to repeat the trick with the newspaper. The two guys watching might be in communication with each other, so that would be too obvious. It would be best if she didn’t show up there anymore, with or without a disguise. Ha, she had an idea! She pulled out of the traffic and into Mörby Centrum’s parking garage. She would call Maja and ask if she could do it. With a little disguise on her part, a totally different person from Elin would appear at the Audi. No one could possibly mistake one for the other since Maja was much taller than Elin. And after that, they could go straight to the movies. It was a win-win situation.
Wednesday, November 18
48
Martin was sitting at a large table in a wood-paneled conference room. This truly was a law office in the traditional, venerable style. Such places also existed in Berlin, but this one looked genuinely old. He hadn’t been to the men’s room yet, but he expected to see gold faucets.
The contract appeared to be in order. He had read through the entire thing and found no errors. He wasn’t particularly used to dealing with long English-language texts since he rarely had international cases. But the notary had done a good job: everything was correct and in its proper place. He looked at the clock. It was shortly before 11 a.m., which meant that the others would soon arrive.
Martin stood up and opened the heavy door—not the easiest task since its handle was mounted too high. He stepped into the hallway and looked around. Liv was sitting on a leather couch in the corner seating area and was speaking with the notary. Martin walked over to them. They both looked up.
Martin said in English: “The text is excellent. Liv can sign it. Have the buyers arrived yet?”
The notary shook his head. “No, but they called and said they were on their way. I suggest that the two of you wait in the conference room in the meantime. Would you like something more to drink?”
Both Liv and Martin declined. They hadn’t yet finished what they had. Liv rose and went into the conference room with Martin.
“How are you feeling? Is everything all right?” Martin asked her.
Liv looked at him, a serious expression on her face. “Oh, Martin,” she said, “I feel like a zombie. I just want to bring this to a close. The only thing that matters is Saga.”
“I understand,” he replied. “It will soon be over.”
Martin sat down beside her. He knew that she hadn’t slept well. The night before, she had wanted to sleep near her son, but she had showered him with so much affection that he eventually began to wonder what was going on. He had asked where Saga was and was surprised that he hadn’t seen her at school. It was also unusual for Saga to spend several nights in a row at a friend’s, especially during the week. In short, the whole story was on the verge of being exposed. In the end, the boy disappeared into his room. Liv then decided to go to her own room and had taken a sleeping pill. But it only worked until 4 a.m., at which point Liv actually went to his room. Under any other circumstances, he would have been glad about it, but with the way things were, he found it disturbing. Liv had laid her head on his shoulder and wept. After that, it was hard to think about sleeping. Eventually, Liv and Martin had breakfast with the au pair and Liv’s son until Mai-Li took the boy to school.
Soon after that, Lars had gotten in touch to inform Liv and Martin that he and Elin had most likely identified the two watchers. At least one of them was using a stolen car. That was a real win, but Liv still didn’t want them to endanger Saga’s life by interfering in any way.
The door opened, and the notary entered, followed by two men. One was tall and powerfully built, while the other was short and slight. The notary introduced them as Boris Melnikov, the buyer, and Nicholai Novikov, his lawyer. Martin was introduced as Liv’s lawyer. They all shook hands and murmured “Nice to meet you” in English. Then they sat down, and the notary explained that Martin had already reviewed the contract. He then handed a copy to the Russian lawyer, who began reading it. Martin tried engaging in small talk with the buyer, but he apparently spoke no English. And so, they sat at the table in silence and waited for the other lawyer to finish.
Martin made use of the time to scrutinize the two Russians. Both were well-dressed in dark suits with matching vests, starched white shirts, and ties. Melnikov, the buyer, was the powerfully built of the two, with a paunch and double chin. He had to be in his mid-fifties. He had dark, thinning hair, a receding hairline, a clean-shaven face, and pockmarked cheeks. His small, deep-set, dark eyes flitted restlessly back and forth. Martin did not find him likable. The lawyer was significantly younger, maybe in his early to mid-thirties, with dark-blond, short hair and a goatee. He was intensely focused on the contract, and every time he turned the page, he would moisten his thumb. Finally, he nodded and said something to the buyer in Russian. After the latter responded, the lawyer said in English: “Everything is correct. We can sign.”
“Good,” the notary replied. “Then I would like to examine the buyer’s and sel
ler’s IDs.”
The Russian lawyer translated. The Russian buyer presented his passport, and Liv brought out her ID. The notary reviewed them both and made a note of their numbers. Then he handed Liv and the buyer a copy of the contract and asked them to sign. Each page of the contract had to be initialed. After that, the parties exchanged copies.
“The sale agreement is now legally binding,” the notary informed them. “I’ll report the transfer to the Bolagsverket—the Swedish Companies Registration Office. The full payment of the selling price is due immediately.”
The Russian lawyer nodded. “My client will make the transfer today.” He then translated what he had said to the buyer.
The buyer said something in Russian and reached for his briefcase. He placed a bottle of vodka on the table.
“According to Russian custom,” the lawyer explained, “my client would like to make a toast. Do you have some glasses?”
The notary stood and fetched four glasses from the cabinet. The buyer opened the bottle and filled each glass halfway. He gave one to each person and then raised his own. He was grinning.
“Nastrovye!”
The others raised their glasses in response, whereupon the Russian buyer drank the entire contents of his glass in one gulp. Martin only took a sip of his, and he noticed that Liv did the same. The Russian lawyer drank one mouthful and then rose from this seat.
“Thank you for the good business,” the lawyer said in parting. The large Russian nodded, stood as well, and took his leave. The door closed behind them. They had left the bottle of vodka behind.
Martin and Liv looked at each other.
“Strange people,” said Martin.
Liv nodded. “Yes, I thought that already when we signed the first contract. Come on, let’s go!”
It was almost noon as they stepped out onto the street, although the sun was still low in the sky. The days were shorter than in Berlin, and the sun never rose too far above the horizon. At least, it was a clear day, with only a few clouds.
“Would you like to walk a bit and have lunch somewhere? Or would you like to go home?” Martin was feeling hungry. Was that because of the vodka?
“That sounds like a good idea. There’s no one at home, and I would just be brooding the whole time. And I don’t want to go to the office today. Let’s go down to Strandvägen. That’s just a short stroll from here.” Liv slipped her arm in his.
They only needed to make one left turn and then walk 100 meters before arriving at the street with the lovely housefronts overlooking the water. The quayside was full of hustle and bustle, partly from tourists and partly from people who were probably enjoying their noontime break. An icy wind was blowing across the pier, but the view was stupendous. The splashing waves, the ships, the buildings that graced the other islands: the whole scene was one of harmony.
“Stockholm is incredibly beautiful,” Martin exclaimed.
“Yes,” replied Liv. “You have to come sometime to see the sights. Have you been to the Vasa Museum?”
“No, I’ve only been to the Old Town and on a boat tour through the Archipelago. I enjoyed both a lot, but I haven’t yet made it to the museums. What kind of museum is that?”
Liv shielded her eyes against the sun with her left hand and pointed across the water with her right.
“You can see it from here—the big building over there with the two ships’ masts jutting out from the roof. Inside it is the Vasa, a seventeenth-century warship that sank in the Stockholm harbor on its short inaugural voyage. They recovered it more or less in one piece fifty years ago and then brought it to the museum. It’s fascinating. You could spend the entire day there without losing interest.”
“Yes, I remember now. I read about it in a brochure about Stockholm. I’ll add that to my list.”
They continued walking toward the city center, where they found a small restaurant that served lunch. You had to line up at the counter and pick out your food and drinks. There was a choice of salad and three main dishes, and you would place everything on a tray and pay at the end of the counter. Liv paid for the whole meal, but it wasn’t expensive at all—about ten euros per person. She explained to Martin that those were lunchtime prices and that they were only available on workdays between 11 a.m. and 2 p.m. That was the cheapest option for eating in a Swedish restaurant. Dining à la carte outside of those hours usually cost three times as much or more.
Liv and Martin found themselves a table by the window and sat down.
“I’m really hungry, although I don’t know why,” said Martin. “I usually eat later. But I think that sip of vodka might have given me an appetite.”
“Yes, I feel the same way. But I also haven’t eaten much these past few days, so it’s no surprise that I’m hungry.”
“I’m glad you’re eating in any case.”
“Yes, it felt good to walk around here. And anyway, I have the feeling I’ve done everything I can. I’ve sold the company, and the mortgages have been approved, so the money should show up in my account by tomorrow at the latest. Then I’ll immediately transfer it to their account. How long do you think it will take before they release Saga?”
Martin was glad that Liv was now asking about “when” instead of “if.”
“Well,” he said, “I’m assuming they’ll wait until they have the money. And I’m not assuming that you’ll be transferring the money to a Swedish account. I suspect it will be to an account in a tax haven somewhere. I don’t know how quickly a transfer like that can happen.” Martin was afraid it would take several days, but he didn’t want to say that.
Liv seemed content with his answer. She nodded and turned her attention to her meal. Martin had already informed Jürgen that he would be staying the rest of the week—at least that wasn’t a problem. But he was dreading the next few days. If it took another three to four days before Saga’s release, it would be a terrible wait.
They wound up their meal with a cup of coffee, which was included in the price. The customers would simply fetch it themselves from a small table. There were even cookies to go with it.
They had just taken their first sip when Liv’s cell phone rang. “It’s my bank,” Liv explained apologetically before accepting the call.
Martin couldn’t understand what she was saying, but something didn’t seem quite right. Liv was clearly agitated. Once she hung up, he anxiously asked: “Is there a problem?”
Liv shook her head. “No, not at all. My administrative assistant just wanted to let me know that the money from the mortgages has now cleared my account. At the same time, she informed me that another 90 million has been deposited. I find that hard to believe since we just finalized the sale. They were super fast.”
“But that’s great. That means you can transfer the ransom money today.”
“Yes, all we need is the account number. I have to write and tell them that I already have the money.”
“Right. But hang on a minute. I’d like to ask Lars if he can give us any tips.”
“Martin, this is not a major issue. I just need to let them know that the money is available and that they need to send me the account number.”
“OK, well, let me still give him a call. It will only take a minute.”
“Fine.” Liv reluctantly gave in. Martin could understand her impatience.
Martin called Lars on the cell phone that Lars had given them. “Hi, Lars, it’s Martin. We have all the money, and we’d like to let the kidnappers know.”
“All of it? Even the money from the company sale?”
“Yes, it’s just been transferred.”
“That’s crazy. That was fast.”
“Yes, we were also surprised. But it’s good for us since Liv obviously wants to wrap up the transfer as fast as possible. We’d now like to ask for the account number. Do you have any tips for us?”
“Hmm, no. It’s pretty simple. The only thing you might think about is requiring some new sign of life from Saga.”
“OK, I�
�ll talk it over with Liv. Thanks.”
Liv gave Martin a questioning look as he ended the call. “Lars thinks we should ask for another video or something similar from Saga,” he said.
Liv raised her eyebrows. “Do you think that’s a good idea? It could drag things out even more.”
“Yeah, maybe by a few hours. We could put it more delicately. Something to the effect that we’d like to transfer the money today but that another video or photo of Saga would give us more assurance. What do you think?”
“I don’t know.” Liv was looking down at the table as she thought it over. Finally, she said: “Yes, that’s a good idea. I’ll write that.”
She picked up her smartphone, accessed her email, and typed for a while. Then she read everything through one more time and hit “Send.”
“There. That’s done,” she said. “I hope they respond quickly. I can’t use online banking to transfer a sum that large. And the bank is only open until 4 p.m. today. I’ve already told my assistant that I plan on transferring that amount today.”
“Didn’t she ask what the money was for?”
“Yes. I told her I had bought an overseas company.” Liv had an embarrassed expression on her face. She apparently felt uncomfortable about having to lie.
49
Elin was jiggling her foot up and down. She was back in the office again, sitting at her desk. It wasn’t her thing at all. Lars had been more than pleased when she told him about the other car and also about her success with the GPS tracker, but there was nothing more for her to do at the moment.
Of course, Maja had gone along with Elin’s idea. She had even found it fun. Before going out, she had gotten all dolled up as though she were about to make a gala appearance. Elin almost didn’t recognize her when she picked her up at the Mörby Centrum underground station. Maja usually wore her long hair in a braid or pulled back somehow. But that night, she wore it down and had apparently curled it. Add to that her eye-catching makeup and miniskirt with boots, and she was a real knockout. As they were walking to the parking garage, Elin could see the effect that Maja was having: she had almost every single man turning his head. Elin, on the other hand, went completely unnoticed in her old parka.
Vanished? Page 17
