She became quiet and tears came into her eyes.
I didnt want to do it, but I felt so sorry for the dove.
Axel takes out his cell phone and calls Beverlys number.
As the signal roams, he looks down the road, past the building that once housed the Chinese embassy, and down to the dark house where the Catholic network Opus Dei has its main headquarters.
His own building is an enormous mansion he and his brother, Robert, share. It is situated on Bragevagen in the middle of Larkstaden, an exclusive district between Ostermalm and Vasastan. All the houses there look alike, as if they were children produced from the same family.
The Riessen residence has two apartments, one on each side. Each one is three stories tall and is completely separate from the other.
Their father, Erloff Riessen, has been dead for twenty years. He was the Swedish ambassador to France and then England, while his brother, Torleif Riessen, had been a famous pianist whod performed at Symphony Hall in Boston and the Grosser Musikvereinssaal in Vienna. The noble house of Riessen always ran to two professions, diplomats and classical musicians, and the two were strangely similar: they demanded absolute obedience and submission.
The father and mother, Erloff and Alice Riessen, decided on a logical agreement: from childhood Axel should devote himself to music while his younger brother, Robert, would be trained in his fathers profession as a diplomat. This arrangement was turned upside down when Axel made the greatest mistake of his life. He was seventeen years old when he was forced to leave the music profession. Instead, he was sent to a military academy while Robert now trained as the family musician. Axel accepted his punishment, even thought it was fair, and since that day, he vowed never to pick up the violin again.
Axels mother never again spoke with him.
After nine rings, Beverly answers the phone, coughing.
Hello?
Where are you? Axel demands.
Im-
She must have turned her face from the receiver because he couldnt understand her next words.
I cant hear you, he says, even more frightened. His voice is sharp and forced.
Are you angry with me?
Just tell me where you are, he pleads.
Youre going on and on! she says and laughs. Im here in my apartment, of course. Are you all right?
I was just worried.
Silly, I was just about to watch a show on Princess Victoria. She hangs up and he feels that ongoing worry. There is a vague tone to her voice.
He looks at the phone and wonders if he should dial her again. He jumps when the phone starts to ring.
Riessen.
Jorgen Grunlicht here.
Hello, Axel says with a little surprise in his voice.
How was your meeting with the team?
It was fairly fruitful, Axel replies.
You made Kenya the priority, I hope.
As well as the final user certificate from the Netherlands, Axel says. There was a lot on the table and Im waiting to decide where I stand. I need to research a little more-
But Kenya, Grunlicht says. Have you signed the export form yet? Pontus Salman is on my back wondering why its still held up. You understand that this is a damned big piece of business already way behind schedule. ISP had given them a positive preliminary decision and theyve gone ahead with production, a damned large shipment already sent from Trollhattan to the docks in Gothenburg. The owner is sending a container ship from Panama tomorrow. Theyll unload their cargo during the day and then the next day they can load the ammunition.
Jorgen, I understand all this. Ive gone over the paperwork and sure Ill sign it, but Ive just started this job and I need to be thorough.
I, myself, went through the whole business, Jorgen says in a brusque manner. Theres nothing unclear about it.
No, but-
Where are you now?
Im at home, Axel says, even more mystified.
Ill send the paperwork by messenger, Jorgen says shortly. The messenger will wait while you sign it. Then we wont lose any more time.
Thats not really necessary. Ill look at it tomorrow, Axel protests.
Twenty minutes later, Axel goes to the door at the persistent ring of the messenger sent by Jorgen Grunlicht. Hes greatly troubled by Grunlichts obstinacy. On the other hand, there doesnt seem to be any reason to delay this piece of business.
53
Axel opens the door and greets the bike messenger. The warm evening air sweeps into the house along with the pounding music from the end-of-the-year party at the School of Architecture.
Axel takes the folder and yet feels awkward about signing the contract in front of the messenger. He feels he would look like hes caving in under a bit of pressure.
Just a minute, he says and gestures for the messenger to wait in the hallway.
Axel walks through his side of the house, through the library, and into the kitchen, past its granite counters, the glossy black cabinets, and up to the double-door refrigerator with its ice machine. He takes out a mini-bottle of mineral water and drinks straight from it as he loosens his tie. He sits on a high stool next to the bar counter and opens the folder.
Everything is neat, tidy, and appears to be in order. Every appendix is in its proper place: the opinion of the Export Control Committee, the classification, the preliminary decision, the copies for the Foreign Office, and the tender notice. He scans the document concerning export permission and flips to the line where the general director for the National Inspectorate of Strategic Products is supposed to sign his name.