Anger Mode (23 page)

Åsa Julén nodded, relieved at Margareta’s intervention, and said, with a reassuring smile, that she fully understood their concerns.

Evert Kihlman did not look reassured.

WHEN JONNA OPENED the door to room thirteen, the last patient was finishing her evening coffee. She hastily greeted the other patients as she walked over to Walter, who was lying on his back with half-shut eyes and his hands resting on the blanket. The tray of food on his bedside table was untouched.

“Can you help me to the toilet?” Walter began when he saw that Jonna had come.

Jonna stared perplexed at Walter. “I will talk to the nurses.”

“No, just fetch a wheelchair so that we can do it ourselves,” Walter said. “I can’t get any farther than the dayroom before they force me back to bed again. I am not allowed to leave the bed or the room, except to visit the toilet.”

“Well, I’m not sure …”

“Do as I say,” Walter ordered. “Spare a thought for what my brain has been through.”

“Well, that’s exactly what I’m doing,” she said sternly. Reluctantly, she fetched a wheelchair from the corridor and wheeled Walter into the toilet.

“We have to talk quietly in here,” Walter whispered as soon as Jonna locked the door behind her. “It’s as soundproof as a cardboard box. The scumbag tested it.”

“Who’s the scumbag?” Jonna asked, who was not very keen on the situation. Standing and whispering with Walter inside a hospital toilet was not something she found very satisfactory, even if it was a handicapped person’s toilet that was as large as her living room.

“The one in the bed next to me. And that’s partly why we’re here,” Walter said, looking up at Jonna from his wheelchair.

“Keep going,” she said grimly.

“The scumbag is actually called Jörgen Blad and he is a journalist,” began Walter. “But he’s also a real shark. He has no scruples. Under normal circumstances, I would keep myself as far away from him as possible. Or give him a good beating. I feel a bit torn between the two alternatives. In any event, he’s prepared to trade information about a leak high up in the police force.”

“Trade information?” Jonna said suspiciously.

“Yes, he claims that a senior police official is leaking information to criminals. He wants to make a deal where we get the information about the mole if we give him everything on Sjöstrand. You see, a little information has already been leaked, from police headquarters or the Prosecutor’s Office, about a dangerous drug that makes people crazy.”

Jonna looked at Walter as if she had not properly understood what he had just said. “I don’t understand what you’re saying,” she said. “First fact: you’re not on the force anymore. Second fact: we – or, rather, I – am no longer participating in the investigation. And third …”

“Take it easy,” Walter said, interrupting her. “I’ve already figured out how we’re going to do this. And we must do it; it’s our goddamned duty. Besides, this will be my ticket back into the force. And if what Blad is saying is correct, it’s a very serious situation. The crooks have a mole inside police headquarters itself. Do you understand how much damage this person could do?”

“Yes, I get it,” Jonna said. “But why can’t this Blad go to someone else? David Lilja, for example?”

“He knows that I’m leading – or, rather, was leading – the investigation,” Walter corrected himself. “And from his own experience, he knows that I don’t work by the book all the time. He has seen that with his own eyes. I’m the only one he can do this type of deal with.”

Walter smiled a wry smile.

“Does he know you’re suspended?” Jonna asked.

“No, I haven’t told him that yet.”

“But he can find that out in a moment if he calls and asks who’s in charge of the investigation,” Jonna remarked.

“Very possibly, but that’s a minor concern right now,” Walter declared. “You’ll have to take care of the operational role as my man – or, rather, woman – in the field while I run the investigation from the bed.”

“What investigation?” Jonna’s eyes narrowed.

“We follow our original theory and act on it. But relax; you’ll not be risking your job. There are other ways to run a freelance investigation. But before we talk more about that, I want you to go and fetch the scumbag.”

“In here?” Jonna asked.

“Yes, but hurry up. We can’t stay in the toilet for too long,” Walter said and waved at Jonna to get going.

Jonna closed the door behind her with a bang. She glanced along the corridor and, for a brief moment, thought about leaving Walter to his fate. She had no obligation whatsoever to help him with a freelance investigation. Why care about someone she had only known a few weeks and who was not even her colleague or supervisor anymore?

Some situations force a decision that can change a person for the rest of their life.

This was similar to the situation in which she had decided not to work in the family business. Precisely the same feeling of foreboding hit Jonna now. She found herself at a crossroads and knew her decision could cast a permanent shadow over her future.

But if there was no risk, then it could do no harm to at least tag along and listen. The man that she had briefly greeted earlier was lying down and doing a crossword puzzle.

“Jörgen Blad?” she asked abruptly.

Surprised, the man looked up from his newspaper. “Yes,” he answered.

“Please follow me,” Jonna asked.

Jörgen thought about saying something first, but changed his mind. Instead, he got out of bed and put his slippers on. The one-breasted woman and the girl looked at Jonna and Jörgen with great interest as they left the room.

Jonna knocked on the toilet door and nodded at Jörgen to enter.

“Well, then,” Walter welcomed them.

Jörgen forced a smile. “An unusual place for a rendezvous,” he said and looked down at Walter in the wheelchair.

“We don’t have time for your bullshit,” Walter ordered, in a low, forceful voice. “The only room I can visit is the toilet. And talking in the ward with the other two and their flapping ears is not an option. This, by the way, is my colleague, Jonna de Brugge,” he continued, pointing at Jonna, who looked anything but amused.

“Nice to meet you,” Jörgen greeted her, his grin widening.

Jonna did not move a muscle.

“You understand why we’re here, surely,” Walter said and looked inquiringly at Jörgen.

“Do I look as if I fell off the banana boat, perhaps?” Jörgen answered and shrugged.

“More like you were hit by an express train.”

“I’ll be completely honest about it,” Jörgen started cautiously. “But that depends on you being equally as honest with me in return.”

Walter’s eyes narrowed. “It was you who started talking about a win-win deal and exchanging information. If what we hear sounds interesting, we’re open to a discussion on the subject. If it’s bullshit and lies, we’ll close up your other eye instead.”

Jörgen scratched his head. “I want all the information on Karin Sjöstrand,” he said. “And I mean everything. Stuff that will give me an exclusive. From what I’ve heard, there’s a drug on the market that drives people crazy. I want to know what the connection with Sjöstrand is, and everything about the Security Service raid against that terrorist cell which also has something to do with the case. There are unconfirmed rumours circulating that suggest a connection. I want to know the truth.”

“We’ll decide that after you’ve told us what you have to share with us,” Walter said.

“How do I know you won’t blow me off?”

“You don’t. But unlike you, we still have a code of honour.”

Jörgen’s expression became suspicious. His grin gave way to his misgivings. He turned around and looked down at his slippers while he slowly traced his foot along a crack in the tiled floor.

Walter watched Jörgen with increasing irritation.

“Do I have your word that you will help me?” Jörgen asked once he had finished thinking and traced his slippers over several tiles.

“Help? What are you talking about? We’re just exchanging information, on my terms,” Walter said.

“It’s a little more complicated than that,” Jörgen explained in a miserable voice. He described from beginning to end how he had blackmailed the police mole for information, using a secret movie in which he himself had a role. He described everything in detail up to his beating and the shootout. Finally, Jörgen explained how he had cleverly stashed the video and how the thugs had taken the key from him.

When he thought about it, he had nothing to lose by telling the truth. He could perhaps have gone to someone else in the police, but then he wouldn’t get the added bonus of the trade in information, which, after all, was worth a great deal to a journalist. Gröhn was nothing if not pragmatic, something that could not be said about the majority of his colleagues.

“Him, of all the people in the police force!” Walter cried out, disillusioned. “You mean he’s a closet transvestite who sells himself like a prostitute to both you and the crooks?”

“I have him on film,” Jörgen repeated.

“If what you say is true, then we have a big problem,” Walter continued.

“Where do the crooks fit into the picture?” Jonna asked. She had listened to Jörgen’s story with mounting interest. “What has the police mole leaked to them?”

“I don’t know that, but obviously he has dealings with criminals. Just look at my face. He hired thugs to get hold of the video,” Jörgen replied.

“And now you want protection?” Jonna said.

Jörgen nodded. “A new identity and secret address.”

“We can assist you with that, but neither I nor Walter is involved in the investigation anymore. SÄPO has taken over.” Jonna dropped the bombshell in a dispassionate voice.

Jörgen looked at Jonna uncomprehendingly. Walter gave her a disappointed look and muttered something, but Jonna did not pay any attention to Walter and instead explained why the Security Service had taken over the Sjöstrand investigation and why Jonna and Walter believed that the terrorist theory was a dead end.

She knew that she was breaking a dozen rules and regulations by divulging what she knew to a private citizen, but she did not have to listen very long to what Jörgen had said before she had made up her mind. A senior police leak on top of SÄPO’s madness was too much for her to look the other way. Jonna continued to talk about Judge Bror Lantz and District Prosecutor Lennart Ekwall, as well as what was known about Drug-X.

Jörgen stared at Jonna, dumbfounded. What she had delivered exceeded his wildest expectations. This story topped by light years the information that had already been leaked by the police. Drug-X could turn respectable people into walking killing machines. Must be the century’s biggest … what? Threat? Or news exclusive? The latter sounded significantly better. If Walter and this police chick were right, he would be first with the story. He immediately saw the headlines in his mind’s eye: “New drug CREATES KILLERS.” Or “Brutal SLAYINGS by court officials.” The headline was not important. The news value was enormous. And if it came out that the Security Service were mistaken about the terrorist plot, then he was a sure thing for the “Journalist of the Year” award.

“You can participate in our parallel investigation in exchange for the video,” Walter said in a hard voice. Jonna had started the ball rolling. Now he just had to play along. “You will have first-hand information that nobody else has. You will be an embedded journalist, as you like to call it. But nothing of what we have said here, or what we discover later, can be published until we give you permission. If I see the smallest indication that you are welching on the deal, I’ll make sure that the goons who are looking for you find you.”

Jörgen nodded that he understood. “When do we begin?”

“We have to start by identifying the court cases the judge, lay juror and district prosecutor worked on together,” Walter began. “There must be a common factor.”

Jörgen nodded.

“At the same time, you must hand over the video,” Walter said.

Jonna was now forced to decide if she was going to be a part of this madness, which was, on so many levels, bizarre. The whole story with Drug-X was so absurd that it was more at home in a Hollywood film. Now, she was forced to be a freelancer just because those idiots at SÄPO did not know any better, and so that Walter would get a shot at being reinstated, however that was supposed to work. That a senior police chief had become involved with a disreputable journalist was equally as far-fetched. And that the bisexual county police commissioner had subsequently hired goons to take care of the journalist was bordering on the limits of what Jonna could take in.

Walter saw the doubt in Jonna’s eyes. “Now listen up,” he whispered, barely audible.

“As you know, every keystroke entered onto the police database is monitored.”

“You don’t need to state the obvious to me,” Jonna insisted.

“But we need access to the District Court database, even though a number of documents are in the public domain.”

“What’s your point?”

“You’ll recieve the telephone number of a man, or rather a freak of nature, who can help you to get access and browse the databases without being detected.”