Grunlicht clears his throat and says something that Axel cant understand before Grunlicht raises his voice again. You are already aware of our work and-if you accept our nomination-could get up to speed fairly quickly.
Id have to resign my UN post, Axel replies.
Is that a problem? Grunlichts voice seems worried.
No, not really-Ive been taking some time off anyway.
Well be able to discuss the terms, of course but theres nothing thats off the table, Grunlicht says. You must already know we would like you on board. Theres no point in keeping that a secret.
I need to think about it.
Can you meet us tomorrow morning?
Youre in a hurry.
Well take, of course, the time needed, Grunlicht replies. But it must be said that after what happened there have been hints from the economics minister about a matter already delayed-
And that would be?
Nothing unusual, just an export permit. The preliminary report was positive and the Export Control Committee has completed its work, the contracts have been signed. Unfortunately, Palmcrona wasnt able to sign it.
His signature was required?
Only the general director can approve exports of defense materiel or products of dual usage, Jorgen Grunlicht explains.
But cant the government approve certain business transactions at times?
Only once the general director of the ISP has decided to turn the matter over to the government.
I understand, says Axel.
For eleven years, Axel Riessen served as a war materiel inspector in the old system for the Foreign Office before being assigned to the United Nations Office for Disarmament Affairs. At fifty-one, he still looks youthful. His hair, flecked with gray, is still thick. His features are regular and friendly, and the tan he picked up recently on vacation in Cape Town gives him a healthy glow. It had been an exceptional vacation: hed sailed solo along the breathtaking, rugged coast.
Axel walks to his library and settles into his reading chair. He closes his eyes and starts to reflect on the fact that Carl Palmcrona is dead. Hed read the obituary in the morning edition of Dagens Nyheter. It was not clear what had happened, but hed gotten the impression the death was unexpected. Palmcrona had not been ill, that much was clear. He thinks back to some of the times theyd met through the years and recalls when theyd worked together on how to combine the Military Equipment Inspection Committee with the Governmental Strategic Export Control Committee. In the end, a new agency would emerge: the National Inspectorate of Strategic Products.
And now Palmcrona is dead. Axel remembers the tall, pale man with his military air and a sense of loneliness about him.
Axel starts to worry. The rooms are too quiet. He stands up and looks around the apartment, listening for sounds.
Beverly? he calls in a low voice. Beverly?
She doesnt answer and fear rises in his mind. He walks quickly through the rooms and heads for the hallway to put on his coat when he hears her humming to herself. She is walking barefoot over the rugs in the kitchen. When she sees his worried face, her eyes widen.
Axel, she says. Whats wrong?
I was just worried that youd left, he mutters.
Out into the dangerous world. She smiles.
Im just saying there are people you cant trust out there.
I dont trust them, she says. I just look at them. I look at their light. If it shines around them, I know that theyre nice.
Axel never knows what to say when she says things like that, so he just tells her hes bought some chips and a big bottle of Fanta.
It seems as if shes stopped listening. He tries to read her face, to see if she is restless or depressed or closed off.
So are we still going to get married? she asks.
Yes, he lies.
Its just that flowers make me think of Mammas funeral and Pappas face when-
We dont need to have flowers, he says. Though I like lilies of the valley.
Me, too, he says weakly.
She reddens contentedly and he hears her pretend to yawn for his sake.
Im so sleepy, she says as she leaves the room. Do you want to go to sleep?
No, Axel says, but only to himself.
Parts of his body want to stop dead, but he gets up and follows her, clumsily and strangely slow, over the marble floor that leads along the hallway, up the stairs, through two large rooms, and finally into the suite where he retires in the evening. The girl is skinny and short and doesnt even come up to his chest. Her hair is frizzy. She shaved it last week, but its begun to grow out again. She gives him a quick hug and he can smell the odor of caramel from her mouth.
41
Its been ten months since Axel Riessen met Beverly Andersson, and that only came about because of his acute insomnia. Ever since he experienced a traumatic event thirty years ago, hes had difficulty sleeping. As long as he took sleeping pills, he was able to manage, but he slept a chemical sleep without dreams and without real rest. At least he slept.
Eventually he had to keep increasing the dosage. The pills caused a hypnotic noise that drowned out his thoughts, but he loved his medication and he usually mixed it with expensive, well-aged whiskey. One day, after twenty years of high consumption, Axels brother found him unconscious in the hallway, blood flowing from both nostrils.