The Chosen (47 page)

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Authors: Kristina Ohlsson

BOOK: The Chosen
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Efraim hunched his shoulders against the cold and waited for Nadia the Paper Boy’s next move.

A
nother late night at the office. It was almost half past nine. Shit. She really had meant to leave earlier, join her family in the temporary apartment. Not waste time in yet another meeting
with GD, whose imagination appeared to be running riot about what she had been up to during her brief absence.

‘So you’re saying that Efraim Kiel has nothing to do with the murders?’ he said again.

‘In my opinion,’ Eden Lundell replied.

Yet again. They had already gone over all this at lunchtime, but GD had insisted on another meeting. Säpo had been closely following the police investigation into the murders.

‘But you’re not prepared to tell me what that opinion is based on?’

‘I can’t. I’m sorry.’

GD was starting to look annoyed, which wasn’t a good sign. Eden was too tired to argue in a civilised manner. She had spent hours catching up with work since she got back from London, and
now she just wanted to go home. She had also spoken to Alex Recht and Fredrika Bergman. The case had taken a new turn; it seemed that Gideon Eisenberg was the guilty party, and he had hanged
himself in his own living room.

Fucking coward.

She was ashamed to admit that she felt a certain sense of peace at the thought that he was gone. At least he wouldn’t claim any more victims, thank God. Everything could get back to
normal.

Or not.

Because Eden had made a decision. She had stopped smoking for good. A habit was a weakness, and she couldn’t afford any sign of frailty. And she was going to go on holiday with her family
in March. The girls would soon be starting school, and there would no longer be any room for that kind of spontaneity.

‘I’m taking a week off in March,’ she said. ‘A family holiday.’

‘I didn’t think you went in for that kind of thing,’ GD said.

‘I do now.’

She didn’t even have the energy to sound defensive.

‘Okay, so if Efraim Kiel has nothing to do with the murders, then why can’t we find him?’

‘Because he’s better than us. Because he doesn’t want to be found.’

‘Why not? What’s he doing that he doesn’t want us to see?’

How was Eden supposed to know that?

‘I’ve no idea.’

‘Mossad have got a nerve if they’ve started up a new operation in Stockholm,’ GD said. ‘I was very clear about our views on unauthorised intelligence
activities.’

Eden suppressed a sigh.

‘He could be keeping a low profile for personal reasons. There doesn’t have to be a Säpo-related reason why he doesn’t want to be under permanent surveillance.’

GD’s expression was grim.

‘I’d feel better if we hadn’t lost the woman who was following him as well. Did I tell you we tracked her down to a place on Torsgatan? An office block.’

‘No, you didn’t.’

Eden was only half listening; in her mind she was already at home with Mikael.

Things will be different from now on. I promise.

‘In that case I haven’t mentioned that we haven’t seen her since. She just disappeared. Went into the building and never came out again.’

‘I assume she used a different exit. Or our surveillance guys missed her. That kind of thing does happen.’

GD ignored her comments. Eden wondered how come GD was better informed about the latest surveillance reports than she was. Officially Efraim Kiel’s case was being handled by the
counter-espionage unit, but GD was obviously following developments in minute detail – possibly because he, unlike the head of counter-espionage, knew that she and Efraim had been an item.

‘We’ve been watching the block on Torsgatan,’ he went on. ‘The strange thing is, they said they were almost certain they saw police officers enter the building today, but
our guys decided against making themselves known.’

Eden was immediately alert.

‘Were they from Alex Recht’s team?’

‘I don’t know. Counter-espionage were supposed to check as discreetly as possible, but I haven’t heard from them.’

Of course not. Eden couldn’t think of anyone who worked more slowly than the counter-espionage unit. Impatiently she took out her mobile and called Alex. GD raised an eyebrow, but said nothing.

‘Alex, it’s me, Eden. Sorry to bother you again, but I’m just wondering if your team has been involved in an operation on a property on Torsgatan over the last couple of
days.’

She listened in silence to Alex’s response.

Then sat for a long time with the phone on her knee.

Lost for words.

Back to square one.

‘The woman who’s following Efraim is wanted in connection with the murder inquiry,’ she said eventually. ‘They think her name is Mona Samson, and that she was in a
relationship with the father of one of the boys. Some of that information has already been leaked to the media.’

‘How does Recht know she’s shadowing Kiel?’ GD said in surprise.

‘He doesn’t, but as far as I can see we must be talking about the same woman.’

She was almost grinding her teeth in frustration.

What is it I

m not seeing? What is it that we

re all missing?

Alex had mentioned that they could be looking for two separate perpetrators. If Mona Samson was the person who had helped Gideon Eisenberg, she was still out there. And she was a threat to Eden
and her family.

But how would she know that Efraim had two children?

‘I have to go home right now,’ she said firmly. ‘We can talk about this in the morning.’

‘Good idea. Try to get some rest – you look tired.’

Eden felt her knees crack as she got to her feet. She was back in her office pulling on her coat when Mikael rang.

‘Where are you?’

‘I know, I’m late. But I’m on my way right now, and I’ve got lots of good news.’

She picked up her bag and Dani’s new violin.

‘Sounds promising,’ Mikael said. ‘We could certainly do with some good news here; it’s been one hell of an evening.’

‘I’m really sorry you had to leave in such a rush. But it will only be for tonight, if that’s any consolation; we can move back home tomorrow.’

‘Eden, we’re not in the other apartment. We’re still at home.’

She stopped dead.

‘What?’

‘Everything went wrong, and the girls were absolutely worn out.’

She wasn’t listening any more. Fear flooded her body. Not because something had happened, but because she was thinking about what could have happened.

‘For fuck’s sake, Mikael, this is serious. You have to do as I say when I ring and . . .’

‘No, I don’t,’ he interrupted her, sounding furious. ‘If it’s so important, then you can bloody well come home like a normal person, explain what’s going on
instead of creating havoc like you did this afternoon.’

At that moment Eden heard a sound in the background.

A sound she couldn’t place.

It came again.

The doorbell.

The doorbell.

‘Mikael, don’t open the door!’

‘It’s only the pizzas I ordered about a hundred years ago. I got so angry when they didn’t arrive that they promised to send them over for free. We can have them with a glass of wine when you get home.’

She heard his footsteps moving through the apartment.

‘Mikael, I mean it. Tell them to leave the pizzas outside the door. Don’t open it!’

‘For pity’s sake, Eden. I’m not going to frighten the life out of a pizza delivery boy just because you’re paranoid.’

She set off again. Started to run.

‘Please, Mikael, please . . .’

‘Eden, it’s the pizzas. He’s got the boxes in his hand. Love you, see you later.’

He was gone, leaving her alone.

Pizza.

Of course he was right.

Of course it was the pizza delivery boy.

She called him back.

Her heart was pounding like a jack hammer.

Unnecessarily.

The pizzas had arrived, Mikael had just opened a bottle of wine and was about to lay the table.

A stray tear of pure relief trickled down her cheek, and she dashed it away.

‘By the way, can you pick up some milk on the way home? I’ve just noticed we’ve run out.’

‘No problem.’

She decided to call in at an ICA supermarket that she knew was open late. There was always a queue, but it didn’t matter. After all, she wasn’t in a hurry any more.

Everything was under control.

H
e was running out of patience. Something had to happen soon. She had to show herself again, and next time he wouldn’t miss her. He couldn’t, because otherwise he knew it would be
too late.

Efraim Kiel had believed he had a well thought out plan. If he hadn’t been given the task of recruiting a new security chief for the Solomon Community in Stockholm, he would have found
another reason to come to Sweden.

Because now it was time to put things right.

Time to wreak the revenge he and Nadia had spent ten years waiting for.

Nadia, the amazing woman he had managed to recruit as a Mossad informant. A Palestinian woman whose great secret was that her father had been an Israeli Jew; her mother had never told anyone
else.

Nadia had been recruited because of her husband. She was married to a man the Israelis suspected of being involved in Palestinian terrorist activities. Not only involved; he had been one of the
operational leaders. Nadia had had integrity; she wouldn’t sell out just any Palestinian to the Israeli side, but the fact was that the man she had fallen in love with and married had
deceived her. He wanted to pursue an armed battle against the Israeli occupying forces, which she was happy to go along with. But not if the violence was directed exclusively at the civilian population. She had made it clear at an early stage that she was only prepared to be with him if
he and his comrades attacked military targets.

He had given her his word. And broken it.

That had provided Efraim with the key to a successful recruitment, and soon Nadia was one of the Israeli security service’s most important sources.

In his defence, Efraim often told himself that he had tried to resist. That he had never meant to fall in love, but had been forced to capitulate. Efraim had never felt for any woman what he
felt for Nadia. She became pregnant almost right away, said that she knew it was Efraim’s child she was carrying.

‘You can’t do this,’ Efraim had said. ‘Your husband will kill you if he finds out.’

‘Which is why it will be our secret – yours and mine,’ she had replied.

Therefore, he was not inexperienced when it came to being the father of another man’s child, but in Nadia’s case he had known about it, and it had caused him great pain. Because
Efraim had wanted the impossible: a normal life with Nadia.

There were a thousand reasons why it was out of the question, but only one counted.

They would die, all three of them. Even if they left Israel.

‘He knows people everywhere,’ Nadia had said. ‘They would find me and kill me.’

Therefore, the husband had to go. Somehow.

It wasn’t an easy operation to put in place. Months passed, turning into years. Nadia said she needed a break from Efraim, and those words led to a hiatus of several years. They met only to exchange information, and she had something to offer less and less often. Her husband was lying low; he had lost influence within the organisation. Efraim didn’t
see his son, but had to make do with the photographs Nadia gave him. The boy was too old; he would start asking questions if he was suddenly introduced to an Israeli man.

Then MI5 got in touch. They were trying to track down a terrorist who was planning attacks on British embassies.

He stamped his feet up and down on the spot. He followed the news on his phone. Apparently Gideon Eisenberg was dead; he had killed himself.

It had been Saul’s idea to call one of the Palestinian sources the Paper Boy. At first Efraim had thought it was a bad idea, but then he had changed his mind and said he wanted to use the
name for his newest recruit. Nadia the Paper Boy had become Efraim’s project. No one else was allowed to meet her, even though they knew of her existence. No one but Efraim and his boss knew
her identity. Gideon and Saul ran their own sources in Palestinian towns and villages.

Efraim’s bosses felt that taking out Nadia’s husband would be too destructive, so they let him carry on, but made sure they sabotaged every plan that Nadia was able to tip them off
about.

When the joint operation with MI5 got under way, everything was suddenly heightened – both the exchange of information and their love affair. Nadia’s husband was the key player in the plot
to launch a series of attacks on British embassies, and the Israelis decided they had had enough. Nadia’s husband had to go.

Efraim had not been involved in the strategic planning, otherwise there would never have been so many of them there on the day his life came to an end. The team had stood outside the house where
Nadia’s husband was that afternoon, wondering if they dared go inside.

He had moved a short distance away, said he was going to call for reinforcements. Which he had done, but first he had called Nadia to make sure she was nowhere in the vicinity.

He could still remember the panic in her voice.


You have to abort the whole thing! Benjamin is with him!

Efraim hadn’t seen his son emerge from the house.

He hadn’t been there when Saul and Gideon, those stupid bastards, had decided to approach him. A ten-year-old kid who had been scared of Israeli men all his life. Who knew it was almost
never good news when they came calling.

The boy had run for his life.

Back to the house.

Which was booby trapped.

It had been over in seconds. There was nothing Efraim could do. But later, as he wept with Nadia, he had promised her vengeance.

Saul and Gideon had been badly affected by what had happened. They had both said they could no longer justify what they were doing. Efraim realised that their past was haunting them; when
children were involved, they wanted out.

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