Lars Kepler - The Nightmare

“You’ll have a hard time convincing me,” he says.

“But we will,” Joona says with a smile.

“Go ahead, make my day,” the prosecutor replies in English.

Svanehjalm looks like a little boy dressed in his father’s clothes. His neck is thin, without any apparent Adam’s apple, and his narrow shoulders slump even though he wears a well-tailored suit.

“This is complicated,” Saga says. “But we fear Axel Riessen from ISP has been kidnapped as part of this slaughter that’s been going on the past few days.”

Carlos’s phone rings so she pauses.

“I’m sorry,” he says to them, and then into the intercom he snaps, “I thought I told you that we couldn’t be disturbed!” He listens a moment to the voice there and then picks up the office phone. “Carlos Eliasson here.”

He listens and then his cheeks flame bright red. He mumbles that he understands, thanks the caller, and hangs up.

“I’m sorry,” Carlos says.

“It’s nothing,” Jens Svanehjalm says politely.

“I mean, I’m sorry that I have troubled you at all with this meeting! That was Axel Riessen’s secretary calling from ISP. I’ve been in contact with her all morning… and she’s just gotten a call from Axel Riessen.”

“So what did she say-no kidnapping?” Jens Svanehjalm smiles.

“He is on Raphael Guidi’s yacht wrapping up the final details on the export approval.”

Joona and Saga exchange glances.

“So you’re all happy now?” asks the prosecutor genially.

“Apparently Axel Riessen requested a meeting with Raphael Guidi,” Carlos tells them.

“He would have spoken to us first,” Saga says stubbornly.

“The secretary says that they’ve been on the boat the whole day to iron out any differences. He says the agreement is long overdue and he would probably fax his signature in to the ISP this evening.”

“He’s going to authorize it?” asks Saga as she stands up abruptly.

“That’s right.” Carlos smiles.

“And his plans after that? He’s made plans-” Joona inquires.

“He was-” Carlos stops and frowns at Joona.

“Why did you think he would plan something special after this meeting?” he asks. “But yes, his secretary told me he planned to borrow a Forgus sailboat from Raphael Guidi to go on a long sail down the coast to Kaliningrad.”

“Sounds wonderful,” says Jens as he gets up to leave.

“Idiots!” Saga says as she kicks the wastebasket. “You must know he was forced to make that call!”

“Let’s behave like adults here,” Carlos says.

He bends down to pick up the wastebasket and the spilled trash.

“So we’re done here now, aren’t we?” Svanehjalm says quietly.

“Axel Riessen is a prisoner on Raphael Guidi’s boat,” Joona says just as quietly, but his words are rock firm. “Give us the authority to go get him.”

“Maybe I’m really dense, but I see no cause for action at all,” Jens Svanehjalm tells them, and calmly leaves the room.

They watch him leisurely close the door behind him.

“Sorry I lost it,” Saga apologizes to Carlos. “But this makes no sense. Axel was adamant he would never sign this agreement… at least, not of his own free will.”

“Saga, I’ve put two lawyers onto this case,” Carlos explains. “All they found was a perfectly legitimate export deal that Silencia Defense had put together. I assure you they went over it with a fine-tooth comb-”

“But we have a photograph where Palmcrona and Salman meet with Raphael Guidi and Agathe al-Haji in order to-”

“I know all that,” Carlos says hastily. “But we can’t prove what we suspect. A simple photograph is not enough.”

“So we’re going to just sit on our asses and watch this ship leave Sweden with ammunition we know is bound for Sudan?” Saga exclaims indignantly.

“Get Pontus Salman in here,” Carlos answers. “Get him to testify against Raphael Guidi. Offer him whatever you can as long as he agrees to be a witness-”

“But if he refuses?” Saga asks.

“Then there’s nothing we can do.”

“Actually, we do have another witness,” Joona says softly.

“I’d like to meet him!” Carlos demands skeptically.

“We just have to bring him in before they find his drowned body in the sea outside of Kaliningrad.”

“You’re not going to get your way this time, Joona.” Carlos seems to push himself back.

“Yes, I will.”

“No, you won’t.”

“Yes, indeed I will.” Joona won’t give an inch. Carlos looks at Joona sadly.

“We’ll never convince the prosecutor about this,” he says after a while. “But since I can’t spend the rest of my life sitting here and saying no to you while you say yes, well, then…”

He sighs, thinks for a moment, and then says, “I’ll give you permission to look for Axel Riessen in your usual role as our consultant. We simply need to check on his safety.”

“Joona will need backup,” Saga says.

“This is not a real police operation,” Carlos says. “It’s just a way to get Joona to shut up.”

“But Joona will be-”

“What I want,” Carlos says, “what I really want is for you, Saga, to bring Pontus Salman here from Sodertalje as I’ve already requested… if he can give us a watertight case, we can go after Raphael Guidi with everything we’ve got.”

“There’s no time for all that,” Joona says as he starts walking to the door.

“I’ll go get Pontus,” Saga agrees.

“And Joona? What are you-”

“I’m going to drop in on Raphael and have a little chat,” Joona answers as he walks out of the room.

After lying huddled in the trunk of a car, Axel is stiff when he’s finally allowed out. He finds he’s been taken to a small private airport. The landing strip is made of concrete and surrounded by a high fence. A helicopter waits in front of a building that looks like a barracks. A tall mast sticks up from the roof.

Axel can hear the screech of seagulls as he is made to walk between the two men who have kidnapped him. He’s still wearing just trousers and a shirt. There’s nothing to say, so he climbs into the helicopter with the men. He sits down and fastens the harness. One of the two men is the pilot. He manipulates the instruments on the panel before him, then turns a tiny, shining key, hits another control, and presses a pedal.

The man next to the pilot spreads a map over his lap.

There’s peeling tape on the windshield.

The motor hums as the engine takes hold and the rotors start to slowly rotate. The narrow blades slice heavily through the air and the hazy sunshine blinks across the windshield. The rotor revs more and more quickly.

A paper cup on the ground is blown away.

The engine has warmed up. The blades clatter deafeningly. The pilot holds the joystick in his right hand, moving it with small, square movements. Suddenly they lift.

The helicopter heads slowly straight up at first, but then it tips forward and they move off.

Axel’s stomach lurches as they fly over the fence, up over the trees, and then swing so quickly to the left that it feels as if the helicopter is tipping to the side.

Swiftly they put the rolling green ground behind them, along with a few lonely roads and a house with a shining tin-plated roof.

The helicopter engine thuds and the shadows of the rotating blades flick across the windshield.

The mainland ends and the sea opens up beneath them.

Axel tries to think through what’s happened. Raphael Guidi must have had everything in place. He’d phoned Axel from his yacht in the Finnish bay. He’d said that he was on his way to Latvia and heading for the open Baltic Sea, then Axel had cut him off. There could have been no more than a minute or two between the time he told Guidi he would not sign and the moment when the two thugs broke into his house and shocked him with the stun gun.