Emelie Schepp - Marked For Revenge

“But experienced drug mules can smuggle more than seventy capsules, can’t they?” Gunnar asked.

“Yes. Some mules swallow over a hundred capsules. Last year an Eastern European man was arrested at Copenhagen’s Kastrup Airport. He had 1.2 kilograms of heroin and cocaine in his stomach. The street value was hundreds of thousands of kronor,” said Ola.

“Denmark is also a common stop. They fly into Kastrup and then take the train over the Öresund Bridge into Sweden. I would dare to guess that this is what happened here,” said Gunnar.

“I think so, too,” said Ola. “The dead woman wasn’t traveling alone. It’s common that the leader of the operation will send a number of mules, because they figure that a few of them will get stopped by customs. If he sends twenty, for example, maybe eighteen will get through and he’s made his money.”

“Fifty percent, then,” Mia said.

“No, not exactly. Eighteen of twenty isn’t half. It’s ninety percent,” Jana corrected, fixing her gaze on Mia without moving a muscle in her face.

Mia clenched her jaw.

“I was talking about our girls! Two girls were sent, and one of them died, so only one got through. Half. Fifty percent. Exactly.”

“There could have been more mules on the train,” Henrik said, clasping his hands around one knee.

Mia sighed.

“But we’re focusing all of our energy on the female friend who disappeared. And we assume that she is also a mule,” Gunnar said. “Otherwise she probably would not have run.”

Jana nodded at Henrik.

“Were there witnesses?” she asked.

“Yes,” said Henrik. “We have a number of passengers who have provided information.”

“And the train attendant? Where is he?”

Henrik opened his mouth to answer, but Mia spoke up quickly.

“He’s in shock.”

“I didn’t ask about his condition. I asked where he was,” Jana said without looking at Mia.

“He’s at Vrinnevi Hospital,” she said curtly.

“Have you talked to him?”

“Only briefly. I’ll question him after we’re done here,” Henrik said.

“If you’re lucky,” Mia said. “He’s being treated. He might have to go to therapy, delaying the investigation even further.”

Gunnar pretended not to hear her, walking instead to the whiteboard.

“According to the train attendant, the second woman ran straight out from the train, and this is confirmed by the security camera footage that Ola checked.”

“Exactly,” Ola said. “I studied the film from Central Station this morning. At exactly 10:23 p.m., a young woman runs off the train. Like the victim, she has Asian features, and I assume that she is the woman we’re looking for. On the film you see clearly that she runs from Platform 1 straight toward the parking lot and then disappears into the darkness.”

“So we have a picture of her?” Jana asked.

“Yes, not as clear a picture as I’d like, but I think it will help.”

Ola leaned forward across the table.

“You can see that she’s completely panicked,” he said. “I mean, she’s sprinting as fast as she can from the train. But what’s strange is that she stops, looks at something in the dark, hesitates and then speeds up.”

“As if she’s trying to find someone?” Henrik asked.

“Yes, as if she’s looking for someone,” Ola said. “And at the same time you see red brake lights, like a car is slowing down in front of her.”

“You think she jumped into a car,” Henrik said.

“Yes, someone was probably waiting at the station, waiting for her and her friend. And we need to find out who that someone is.”

“So the narcotics may have been destined for here, for Norrköping?” Jana asked.

“Well, that’s a reasonable possibility,” Henrik said. “We’ve seen signs that something is going on in the area when it comes to narcotics. Not least since Gavril Bolanaki disappeared.”

“You mean that the market has increased?”

“Yes.”

“Okay,” said Gunnar. “As you all understand, these women are just pawns in a much larger game...” He leaned forward with his hands on the table and looked at the team. “We need to find the woman who ran. She could be our key into this whole operation. If we find her, we have a good chance of finding who was controlling her.”

CHAPTER NINE

THE SOUND OF waves woke her up. Her head was pounding, and Pim blinked a few times to clear her eyes. She sat up on the thin mattress and noticed that she had been covered up by a blanket. Next to her was a bucket with no handle.

How long had she been sleeping?

She tried to open her mouth but couldn’t. Tape stretched from one cheek to the other. She wanted to rip it off, but her hands were bound behind her back with a coarse rope. She twisted and turned until she was breathless. Trying to take short quick breaths, she felt like she was going to suffocate.

She had felt like this before. Often, when they played, her little sister, Mai, had sat on her, held her hands tightly and yelled, Try to escape, Pim. Try to escape, if you can!

Then she had to fight to get free, to cast the weight off her chest. Mai had almost choked with laughter. It was just a game. But it wasn’t now.

No part of this was a game.

The room had no windows. It was small, with a wooden floor and ceiling. It was cold and damp.

She thought about Noi and began to cry. She should have stayed with her, shouldn’t have left her alone on the train.

She slowly pulled one leg up, shifted her weight onto her knees and sat up. Her eyes darted around the room, looking for a way out.

Where was she?

She had no idea.

And no one else had any idea that she was sitting there with her hands bound, her mouth taped shut, in a strange country.

Her legs shaking, she stumbled forward toward the wall, stood with her back to it and began feeling for something sharp.

Finally she found an uneven spot in the planks and immediately began to rub the rope against it. She pushed her back against the wall, up and down, to the sides, fighting and tearing to get the rope to break.

* * *

Jana Berzelius placed her notepad in her briefcase and left the conference room.

Outside the window, she saw snow falling heavily in the light gray darkness. She placed her hand on the shiny handrail and walked down the stairs from the third floor to the garage. The stairwell smelled like dust and Pine Sol. She stepped slowly, listening to the echo of her high heels and thinking about the investigation they had just begun. She was back to doing what gave her purpose—that meant something: a job, punctuality, achievement. She felt energetic and strong again. She wanted to focus on what lay ahead, on her future.

At that moment, her cell phone rang. She stopped, pulling it out of her pocket, but when she saw it was her colleague Per Åström she silenced it and put it away.

She had reached the first floor and was about to continue down the next flight when she stopped suddenly.

Through the glass door that led to the main entrance and reception area of the police station sat the thin, black-clad kid she had met the other evening at the entrance to Knäppingsborg.

Robin...Stenberg.

What was he doing here?

He sat with his elbows on his knees, one leg bobbing up and down with nervous energy.

She took a step forward, wanting to go into the reception area and talk to him, but a stronger impulse convinced her to instead leave the station.

Then Robin got up from the chair and was soon out of her field of vision.

She continued down the stairs, barely conscious of the fact that she was walking more quickly now that her thoughts were back at Knäppingsborg, seeing Robin’s slim body, the panicked look on his face, the stars tattooed on his temple and his worried voice saying that he had to call for help.