The Chosen (20 page)

Therefore, Peder was anxious not to disappoint them; he didn’t want to go behind their backs.

Alex and Fredrika took him by surprise; they turned up in his office without warning, wanting to talk about the paper bag with the face on it.

For some reason this made Peder nervous, which annoyed him. He offered them coffee, and when they said yes, he felt like some kind of lackey who was obliged to serve them. He didn’t have
an assistant.

‘I spoke to the secretary who called about the bag,’ Alex said, taking a sip of his coffee. ‘She said you were the one who found it.’

Peder stiffened.

‘I didn’t “find” it. It was lying on the floor under her desk, along with a load of other bags and wrapping paper.’

‘But it was you who said she ought to show it to the police, wasn’t it?’

There was nothing aggressive in Alex’s tone; he was just asking. And yet Peder couldn’t help feeling slightly uncomfortable. Where was Alex going with this?

‘It stood out, made me wonder if it might be significant. And there was no card to say who had sent the chrysanthemum.’

‘Was that the only anonymous delivery?’ Fredrika asked.

‘No, there were several, but the vast majority came with a card.’

Alex put down his cup.

‘But this one came after Josephine was shot? Before it became known that the boys had also been murdered?’

‘If I’ve understood correctly; that’s what the secretary said.’

Alex leaned back in his chair; Peder unconsciously did the same. An air of tension was building in the room, and he didn’t like it.

He didn’t like it at all.

‘Peder, how did you know that this bag would be of interest to us?’

The question came from Fredrika. Simple and direct, as her questions usually were. Impossible to misunderstand, but sometimes difficult to answer.

‘I didn’t know.’

Which was true.

‘But I thought it might be, because it was different from all the other bags. Because there was something about that face . . .’

He broke off.

Alex looked curious.

‘Yes?’

‘I don’t bloody know. I mean, it wasn’t exactly an attractive face. If it had looked as if a child had drawn it, I might have thought the plant had come from one of
Josephine’s pupils, but that face seemed so . . . adult, somehow. As if an adult had drawn it, I mean. Combined with the fact that there was no card . . . well, that’s why I reacted as
I did.’

Alex drank a little more coffee, then he looked Peder straight in the eye.

‘I sincerely hope that you’re absolutely clear about why we’re here,’ he said, stressing every word. ‘You guessed correctly. That bag
is
extremely
important to us. That’s why we’re wondering if you really did come across it by pure chance.’

Peder’s pulse rate increased. He couldn’t stop himself, he had to ask more questions.

‘Have there been more anonymous deliveries in bags with faces drawn on them?’ he said.

Alex looked surprised for a second.

‘No. No, not as far as we know.’

‘So why is it interesting?’

Neither Alex nor Fredrika answered, and there was an uncomfortable silence.

‘It’s too early to talk about it right now,’ Alex said eventually. ‘But I promise I’ll tell you as soon as I can.’

Peder couldn’t help feeling put out. He knew that Alex was right; he couldn’t tell Peder why the bag was significant at this stage. But it still hurt to know that he was an outsider,
that he couldn’t be a part of police work any more. Of Alex’s work.

His thoughts turned to Efraim Kiel. The man who hadn’t gone back to Israel, in spite of the fact that his job was done. The man who had come to see Peder, talking of
calling cards.

Peder’s brain was working overtime. Alex said there had been no other deliveries in similar bags, and yet the bag was important. Very important, in fact. In which case Efraim must have
been right. There had been other calling cards.

But how had Efraim known that?

Did he have his own contacts within the police?

‘I can see you’re mulling something over,’ Alex said in a pleasant tone of voice.

Fredrika crossed her legs.

‘You’re not suspected of any crime, Peder. We’re just very curious about what made you go to see the school secretary and ask her those particular questions.’

When Peder didn’t reply, Alex took over.

‘Another reason for our curiosity is that you also called a former colleague in the National Crime Unit and asked if they had found some object the killer might have left behind after
Josephine was shot. I think you referred to it as a calling card.’

Peder felt himself blushing.

Fuck.

So his colleague had contacted Alex and told him that Peder had been in touch. Marvellous.

Alex realised what he was thinking.

‘He mentioned it to me when I called to tell him about the paper bag you found. Since the NCU are still technically leading the investigation into Josephine’s death, we have to pass
on any information that could be relevant.’

Peder felt a spurt of anger.

‘That’s bloody ridiculous,’ he said. ‘Splitting the investigations. Surely it’s obvious it’s the same killer! All the victims are Jewish, they all belong
to the same community, they all have links to the same school.’

He fell silent.

‘And they were shot with the same gun,’ Alex said.

Peder blinked.

‘Really?’

‘Yes, but keep it to yourself. It seems to have been leaked to the press already, because they’re asking questions, but we haven’t confirmed it yet.’

‘But it’s definitely true? They were shot with the same gun?’

‘Yes.’

So he’d been right.

‘Now tell us what you know,’ Alex said, and this time his tone had changed. ‘Why did you think the person who shot Josephine might have deliberately left something
behind?’

Peder swallowed; he couldn’t help feeling that he shouldn’t mention Efraim Kiel to the police, but at the same time he kept wondering what Efraim was hiding. He was the one who had
started talking about calling cards; had he just been fishing, or did he know something?

Hesitantly he began to speak.

‘There’s a man in the Solomon Community – well, not really in the community; he’s come over from Israel to help with the appointment of the head of security. His name is Efraim
Kiel.’

‘I’ve spoken to him,’ Alex said. ‘He rang me to ask for a reference.’

Good – in that case Alex already knew who he was.

‘Exactly,’ Peder went on. ‘He came to see me yesterday, and asked if I had any information about the police investigation into the murders. He was very keen to know what
was going on, and he was particularly interested in whether the killer had left some kind of calling card at either of the crime scenes.’

Alex and Fredrika looked at one another.

‘Did he say why he wanted to know?’ Fredrika asked.

‘No.’

‘Where can we reach him?’ Alex said.

‘I think he’s staying at the Diplomat. Hang on, I’ll find his phone number.’

As Peder searched among the papers on his desk, Alex asked:

‘What’s his background, this Efraim Kiel?’

‘I’ve no idea. I assume he’s some kind of security expert.’

‘Has he mentioned anyone called the Paper Boy?’

Peder found the phone number.

‘The Paper Boy? No – who’s that?’

‘Just a story that’s come up. If you see Efraim again, you might like to ask him about it.’

Peder jotted down the number and gave it to Alex. ‘Are you going to contact him?’

‘We’ll see,’ Alex replied. ‘But I’d appreciate it if you didn’t tell him about this conversation.’

Peder knew he would do as Alex said. His job as head of security was to provide the community and its members with the highest level of protection, and Peder was no longer convinced that Efraim
Kiel had the same goal.

‘T
here’s something going on here, Buster. And we’re missing the whole damned thing.’

Eden Lundell had gone to see Säpo’s general director, Buster Hansson, armed with the surveillance reports. A Mossad agent whom Säpo had specifically warned off had entered the
country for reasons unknown. He was a hunted man. Someone who was cocky enough to leave messages out in the open was after him.

Eden had warned their own surveillance team about what was in the message they had found, explained that they must keep an eye open for someone who, like them, was following Efraim Kiel’s
every move.

But so far they hadn’t picked up a thing.

GD, who was used to Eden’s temperament and outbursts, listened to what she had to say with an expression of concern.

‘So you think there’s some kind of transaction between agents going on here?’

The scepticism in his voice was palpable.

‘No, that’s not what I think.’

Transaction between agents? What the hell was that? Not something that was part of real life.

‘An acquaintance in the National Crime Unit told me the Solomon Community has just appointed a new head of security,’ she said. ‘That could well be why Efraim came over in the first place; he’s dealt with that kind of thing
before. But the head of security is now in post, and Efraim is still here.’

‘Is that so strange? Given his background, I mean,’ GD said. ‘The Solomon Community has had a terrible couple of days.’

‘Absolutely, but I don’t believe he told the community about his background, or what he does and who his real employer is.’

‘So who’s creeping around outside his hotel room leaving him cryptic messages?’ GD said.

‘That’s what we don’t know. But since the message is written in Hebrew, and Efraim belongs to Mossad, I can’t help worrying. Either someone has followed him all the way
from Israel, or someone here in Stockholm is monitoring his activities. Which means that person must be part of the Solomon Community, because he hasn’t met anyone else. According to the
surveillance reports, that is.’

She took a deep breath, knowing that what she was about to say could be perceived as controversial.

‘Which brings me to my next point. I’m not convinced that surveillance is one hundred per cent effective in this case.’

Buster raised his eyebrows.

‘You’re not?’

‘No.’

She placed the latest reports in front of GD.

‘Don’t you think he seems to be spending rather too much time in his hotel room?’

She spoke softly, taking care not to sound supercilious. Efraim Kiel had had a completely different training from the agents who worked for the Swedish security service; it was only to be expected that he would be able to get away.

‘You mean he’s leaving the hotel without our guys knowing?’

‘Yes.’

‘What else?’ GD said, folding his arms.

Eden drummed her long fingers on the desk.

‘I don’t think it’s pure chance that these anomalies coincide with the murders of the past few days.’

GD was taken aback.

‘And how exactly do you believe all this hangs together?’

Eden sat back and pushed her hands into her trouser pockets.

‘I don’t know. But I intend to find out, because I’m convinced that there’s a link between the murders and Efraim’s stay in Stockholm.’

GD looked away, focusing on a point behind Eden.

‘And how exactly are you going to do that?’

Eden gave him the only possible answer:

‘I’ll do you the courtesy of not telling you what I’ve done until afterwards.’

T
here was no one by the name of Efraim Kiel staying at the Diplomat. Alex Recht wasn’t exactly surprised, but it did bother him. The case was already complicated and wide-ranging enough;
now they had an Israeli citizen who had officially entered Sweden in order to recruit a head of security for the Solomon Community, but who seemed far too knowledgeable when asking questions about
an ongoing police investigation.

‘I don’t like this,’ he said to Fredrika.

They were back at HQ, sitting opposite one another in the Snakes’ Nest. Alex had just finished a brief conversation with the hotel manager.

‘Could there be a simple explanation? Perhaps the Solomon Community has much closer links with the police that Peder realises? And that’s why Efraim Kiel knew that he should be
looking for something the perpetrator had left behind?’

‘You mean someone tipped him off about the paper bags on Lovön? In that case, shouldn’t someone else have approached Peder? Efraim Kiel isn’t even a member of the Solomon
Community. Why would he get involved in the murder of a teacher and two boys?’

Diana called, wondering when he’d be home.

It was almost six o’clock. Alex had told everyone else that he wouldn’t be calling another briefing before the weekend, but there was one more thing he wanted to discuss with
Fredrika before he left for the day.

‘I should be there in an hour,’ he said.

Fredrika looked away as he dealt with the personal call. She stared as if hypnotised at the snowflakes landing on the windows, leaving tiny white dots behind for a split second.

Alex apologised for the interruption and put down his phone.

‘So you think it all boils down to the fact that Efraim just happens to be well-informed because he’s been given confidential details through the community’s own contacts
within the police? I’m afraid I don’t agree,’ he said.

‘So what do we do? Do we try the phone number Peder gave us?’

Alex laughed dryly. ‘And say what?’

Fredrika ran a hand over her dark hair, making sure that no strands had escaped the thick plait hanging down her back.

‘We say we’re contacting him with regard to an ongoing police investigation, and that we believe he could be of assistance. We don’t have to confront him with a whole load
of accusations; we don’t have anything concrete anyway.’

‘You mean we make it sound as if we’re impressed by how astute he is? That it was very perceptive of him to realise that the killer would leave or send some kind of calling
card?’

‘Something along those lines.’

It wasn’t a bad idea. They couldn’t rule out the possibility that Efraim Kiel just happened to have an instinct for what might be important in an investigation. Peder knew nothing about his background; perhaps Kiel was a former police officer, or had something to do with intelligence? In either case he would be well placed to be able to put two and two together
and to draw conclusions which appeared to be unexpected.