35
Detective Inspector Joona Linna turns onto Vattugatan from Brunkeberg Square behind the City Theater. He parks, gets out, and hurries through an anonymous metal door and down a steep cement walkway.
Its quiet at the Dreambow Internet Cafe. The floor has been freshly scrubbed. The scent of lemon and plastic hangs in the air. Shiny Plexiglas chairs have been pushed below the small computer tables. Nothing moves except the patterns on the monitors. A plump man with a pointed black goatee leans against a high counter, sipping coffee from a mug with the inscription Lennart means Lion. His jeans are baggy and a shoelace hangs untied from one of his Reeboks.
I need a computer, Joona says before hes even reached the man.
Get in line, the man jokes as he makes a sweeping gesture toward the empty seats in the room.
I need a specific computer, Joona continues. A friend of mine was here this past Friday morning and I need to use the same computer he did.
I dont know if I can give out-
Joona bends over and ties the mans loose lace. Its extremely important.
Let me take a look at Fridays log, the man says, an embarrassed flush coming to his cheeks. Whats his name?
Bjorn Almskog, Joona says.
He used number five, the one in the corner, the man says. I need to see your ID.
Joona hands over his police ID, and the man looks confused as he writes it all down in the log.
Go ahead and start surfing.
Thanks, Joona says in a friendly way as he walks over to computer number 5.
Joona takes out his cell phone and places a call to Johan Jonson, a young man in the CIDs department for cyber crimes.
Just a mo, answers a ragged voice. Ive just swallowed a piece of paper an old tissue I blew my nose and at the same time breathed in to sneeze and no, I really dont have the energy to explain everything. Who am I talking to?
Joona Linna, detective inspector with the National Criminal Investigation Department.
Oh, damn. Hi, Joona, what a surprise.
Youre already sounding better.
Yes, Ive swallowed it.
I need to see what a guy was doing on a computer this past Friday.
Say no more!
Im in a hurry. Im sitting in an Internet cafe.
Are you on the same machine he used?
Right in front of me.
Much easier. Much easier. Try to find History. Its probably been erased. Thats what they do after each user, but theres always something left on the hard drive. All you have to do is or really, the best thing to do is to take the thing away and bring it along to me so I can go through the hard drive with a program Ive designed for-
Meet me in a half an hour in the meditation room at Saint Gorans Hospital, Joona says as he unplugs the computer, takes it under his arm, and heads toward the exit.
The man with the coffee mug stares at him, astonished, and tries to block him.
Hey, wait! The computer cant leave the premises!
Its under arrest, Joona says in his friendliest manner.
Whats it suspected of?
The mans pale face stares at Joona as Joona waves at him with his free hand and walks out into the bright sunshine.
36
The parking lot in front of Saint Gorans Hospital is hot and the air is thick and muggy.
Inside the meditation room, Erixson easily maneuvers his wheelchair around what has truly been converted into a base of operations. Erixson has accumulated three phones, which now all ring at once.
Joona carries in the computer and puts it on a chair. Johan Jonson is already there. He looks to be about twenty-five years old. He wears an ill-fitting black tracksuit, has a shaved head and thick eyebrows that grow straight across his face. He comes up to Joona shyly. He shrugs off the shoulder strap of his red computer bag, and shakes Joonas hand.
Ei saa piettaa, he says, while he pulls out a thin laptop. Erixson pours some Fanta from his thermos into small, unbleached paper cups.
Usually I put the hard disk in the freezer for a few hours if its wobbly, Johan says. Then I plug in an ATA/SATA contact. Everyone has a different method. I have a pal over at Ibas who uses RDR and he doesnt even meet his clients in person-he just sends all the shit over an encrypted phone line. Usually you can save most stuff, but I dont want to just get most of it-I want it all! Thats my way, getting each and every crumb, and then you need a program like Hanger 18
Johan Jonson throws his head back and pretends to laugh like a mad scientist: MWA-HA-HAH!
Ive written it myself, he continues. It works like a digital vacuum cleaner. It picks up everything and arranges it according to time down to every microsecond.
He sits down on the altar rail and connects the two computers. His own computer clicks faintly. Typing commands at a furious pace, he studies his screen, scrolls down, reads some more, and types in a new set.
Is this going to take a while? Joona asks after a few minutes.
Who knows? Johan replies. Not more than a month.
Johan swears to himself and writes a new command and then observes the blinking numbers.
Im just joking, he says after a while.
I realized that.
In about fifteen minutes well know how much can be retrieved, Johan continues. He looks down at the piece of paper where Joona has written the time and date for Bjorn Almskogs cafe visit.