Right, Joona says.
Ill call you as soon as I know anything more. What shape theyre in.
Thanks.
The Coast Guard should be there by now wait somethings happened. Hang on.
Joona hears Petter put down the phone. Hes talking to someone, and his voice grows louder until hes yelling. Hes yelling Keep trying! Keep trying! before Joona hears him pick up the phone again.
Ive got to go, Petter says.
Whats going on? Joona asks.
A thunderclap rolls and fades away.
We cant reach the officer on the boat. No answer. Its that idiot Lance; hes probably seen a wave he has to try.
Petter, Joona shouts. Listen! You need to work fast! That boats been hijacked and I believe-
Now youve gone too far!
Shut up and listen! Probably the guys on the boat are already dead. There may be only a few minutes to order a strike force. Take charge of this operation! Call CID on one phone and Bengt Olofsson on another and try to get two patrols from NI. Ask for backup from a Helicopter 14 from the nearest base.
58
A thunderstorm is rolling regally over Stockholm. The rain beats on the windows of Carl Palmcronas large apartment. Tommy Kofoed and Nathan Pollock have begun the forensic investigation all over again.
Its so dark that they turn on the ceiling lamps.
In one of the full-length wardrobes in Palmcronas dressing room, on the floor beneath a row of gray, blue, and black suits, Pollock unearths a black leather folder.
Hey, Tommy, he yells.
Kofoed, in his usual hunched-over, melancholy posture, comes into the room. What is it?
Nathan Pollock taps the black leather folder lightly with his gloved fingers.
I think I found something, he says simply.
They walk to the high window nook and Pollock undoes the clasp and opens the leather folder.
What do we have here? Kofoed whispers reverently.
Pollock lifts up the thin cover page with these few words on it: Carl Palmcronas Last Will and Testament.
They read it in silence. The document is dated March 3, three years earlier. Palmcrona has bequeathed all he owns to one person: Stefan Bergkvist.
Who the hell is Stefan Bergkvist? asks Kofoed after theyve finished reading. Palmcrona has no relatives, and no friends either as far as Ive found out.
Stefan Bergkvist lives in Vasteras at least when this was written, Pollock says. His address is Rekylgatan 11 and-
Pollock stops and looks up.
Hes still a kid. According to his personal registration number, hes just sixteen right now.
The will had been drawn up by Palmcronas lawyer at the firm of Wieselgreen and Sons. Pollock flips through the appendices that list Palmcronas property. There are four pension funds; one forest property, leased, of only two hectares; a partitioned farm in Sormland, also on long-term lease; and the high-priced condominium on Grevgatan 2. The really large inheritance seems to be in a bank account at Standard Chartered Bank on the island of Jersey. Palmcrona sets its value at nine million euros.
It looks like Stefan has become a wealthy kid, Pollock says.
Yes indeed.
But why? Whats the connection?
Tommy shrugs. Who knows? Some people give everything to their dogs or their gym trainer.
Im going to call him.
You mean, call the boy?
What else do you suggest?
Nathan Pollock picks up his phone and taps in a number, asks to be connected to Stefan Bergkvist, living at Rekylgatan 11 in Vasteras. He finds out that there is a Siv Bergkvist at the same address and guesses this is the boys mother. Nathan looks out the window at the pounding rain and the gutters flowing over.
Siv Bergkvist, a woman answers in a broken-sounding voice.
My name is Nathan Pollock and Im a criminal investigator. Are you the mother of Stefan Bergkvist?
Yes, she says in a whisper.
May I speak to him?
What?
Please dont worry. I just need to ask him-
Go straight to hell! she screams and slams down the phone.
Pollock redials the number but no one answers. He looks out the window, down at the road shining in the rain, and dials yet again.
Micke here, a mans voice says in a reserved tone.
My name is Nathan Pollock and I-
What do you want?
Nathan hears the woman sobbing in the background. She says something to the man and he tells her he can take care of it.
No, let me, she says.
Steps are heard as the telephone is handed over.
Hello, the woman says softly.
I really need-
Stefan is dead! she screams shrilly. You say you are a police officer and yet you say you need to talk to him! Why are you torturing me? Its just too much
Shes sobbing into the receiver. Something crashes to the floor in the background.
Im so sorry, Pollock says softly. I didnt know. I-
I cant take it any longer! she sobs. I cant!
Steps are heard again and the man takes up the phone.
This is enough, he says.
Please wait a moment, Pollock says quickly. Please tell me what happened. Its important
Tommy Kofoed, who has been catching Pollocks side of the conversation, sees him listen intently, then turn pale and run his hand over his silver ponytail.
59
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Officers have gathered in the hallway of police headquarters until it is filled with nervous energy. Everyone waits for the latest reports. First, contact with the Coast Guard boat had been lost; then radio contact with the rescue helicopter had also gone dead.