The Game Trilogy (96 page)

The explosion was so powerful she felt it in her chest. It echoed between the buildings before it was followed by a second, then a third.

Above her, plumes of light shot up into the night sky, white, red, blue. Other fireworks followed.

Over in the distance, near the Palace, the crowds roared.

‘Spectacular, isn’t it?’

‘Yes.’ She climbed the last few rungs to the platform and joined him at the railing high above the NK department store. A few metres above their heads the massive neon sign rotated, as the green NK logo was replaced by a red clock.

‘My dear Rebecca, I’m so very sorry, from the bottom of my heart …’ He turned to her and held out his arms. ‘Obviously some of the responsibility must fall on me.’

She went over and put her arms round his neck.

‘Thanks, Uncle Tage …’ she said into his shoulder.

‘Is there anything I can do, my dear?’ He leaned back and gently grasped her upper arms.

‘No, not at the moment, anyway.’

She looked away, towards the Palace, where more rockets were shooting up.

‘Losing a brother like that. And having to do it yourself …’ He shook his head.

She didn’t reply, and tried to swallow the lump in her throat.

‘My dear Rebecca, I can’t begin to imagine how you must be feeling …’

The sadness in his voice cut through her like a knife, and for a moment her feelings threatened to overwhelm her. But she quickly pulled herself together.

‘My plan went wrong, terribly wrong, and in spite of all our efforts I’m afraid Henrik couldn’t be saved,’ he went on. ‘Henrik was carrying a bomb, and it was only thanks to your judicious intervention that he didn’t have the chance to set it off. He knew about it, even shouted out that he was carrying it …’

Tage Sammer held his hands out and took a step back.

‘Henrik had made his choice, and you were forced to make yours. You saved a lot of lives this afternoon, I hope you realize that. Sometimes the good of the many has to take priority over that of the individual …’

She gulped hard, then nodded slowly. Tears were pricking her eyes, but she did her utmost to restrain herself. To keep control …

More fireworks shot up into the night sky.

‘Brave decision, to carry on with the wedding festivities,’ she muttered. ‘And he made a good speech …’

‘Yes, it’s easy to underestimate His Majesty. It’s at times like this that people show their true mettle. His televised speech was fine proof of that.’

‘Mmm,’ she said.

‘The nation needs a uniting force,’ he went on. ‘Someone
who can help us stand strong in the face of the trials ahead. His Majesty understands that …’

‘Or his PR department does …’

‘I’m sorry?’

‘Nothing,’ she mumbled. ‘It just all felt so premeditated, as if …’

‘As if what, Rebecca …?’

He tilted his head and looked at her curiously.

‘Nothing …’ she said quietly. ‘Sorry, I’m not quite myself, Uncle Tage.’

‘My dear Rebecca, I quite understand. You have nothing to apologize for …’

She turned towards the railing and they stood in silence next to each other for a while.

‘S-so, what happens now? With the investigation, I mean?’ she finally said.

He shrugged.

‘Magnus Sandström and your brother are gone, and the other three are locked away. Even if a few details remain, the case is fundamentally solved. The Game has been crushed and the guilty will get their punishment …’

‘It can’t be quite that simple, Uncle Tage …’

‘How do you mean?’

‘There must be something more behind it, there must be more people involved. For instance, who made the bomb in Henke’s rucksack, and who were all those people in masks?’

‘Well, as far as we know any one of them could have been behind the bomb. Sandström is probably the likeliest candidate … The masked protestors along the route might well have been sheer coincidence. Sometimes conspiracy theories are just a convenient way to avoid having to deal with the difficulties of reality …’

‘What about Dad?’

‘How do you mean?’

‘He worked for you, did everything you asked of him. Pretty much like me …’

Her stomach lurched and she had to break off.

‘That’s true, Erland was a particularly loyal colleague. There’s always room for people like that in most organizations, Rebecca.’

He waited for the words to sink in.

‘Are … are you offering me a job, Uncle Tage?’

He smiled gently.

‘If I were, would you accept, Rebecca? I think we could be an excellent team. Someone with your decisiveness, your self-control. Who doesn’t hesitate to do what is necessary, however unpalatable it might be. There’s room for that sort of person in every organization …’

She took a deep breath.

‘I already have a job, you know that. Once all this has died down I think I’d like to go back to it. Try to help find out exactly what happened down there …’ She gestured towards the two towers on either side of Kungsgatan, by the Malmskillnad Bridge.

Sammer nodded slowly.

‘I didn’t really expect any other answer, Rebecca …’

He bent down and picked up a check-patterned thermos flask from beside the railing.

‘Let me at least offer you a cup of coffee before we part.’

‘Thanks …’

He conjured up two cups and filled them.

‘Have I told you why I’m so fond of this spot?’

She shook her head and blew gently on the hot coffee.

‘My father worked for ASEA. He helped construct the clock in 1939. But back then it was mounted on the telephone company tower in Brunkebergstorg.’

He pointed across the rooftops.

‘My father used to take me to look at it. Telling me how they got it up there. The tower was forty-five metres high, you see, a dizzy height in those days …’

She nodded, and slowly raised the cup to her lips.

‘I was very proud of my father, I even used to boast to friends about how he had constructed the clock all on his own …’ he chuckled.

‘Then, in 1953, the tower caught fire, and the clock was taken down and placed in storage. My father died a couple of years later …’

She studied his face in profile, the eagle-like hook of the nose. The taut skin over his cheeks, the dark eyes that reminded her so strongly of her father’s.

‘Fortunately, with the help of a few contacts, I eventually managed to get this mast constructed. And in that way my father’s clock could be restored to its rightful place …’

Sammer turned and smiled at her.

He was still holding the cup in his hand, but didn’t seem to have touched his coffee.

‘Thanks for telling me the story, Uncle Tage, but I’d rather you …’

‘Talked about
your
father, yes, of course I can understand that. That’s why you’re here. You’re worried about what Erland might have done with that revolver. What the consequences of it might have been. So worried that you can’t sleep at night, is that right?’

She nodded heavily, her head moving up and down as if it didn’t really want to obey her.

‘Poor Rebecca.’ He smiled. ‘The past few years can’t have been easy for you. Everything that’s happened: the crash at Lindhagensplan, the attack against the American Secretary of State. By the way, the police van containing the bomb
was
being driven by Henrik, but you’d probably already guessed that …’

She opened her mouth and tried to say something.

‘Shh, don’t worry.’ He put a gloved finger to his lips. ‘That can stay between us. Henrik has been involved in a number of violent actions, some of which you know about already. I’m actually going to miss him,’ he chuckled. ‘In fact I daresay we all will … But my dear Rebecca, are you all right …?’

The plastic cup had fallen from her hand and hit the mesh floor with a clatter.

‘Perhaps you should sit down …’

He gestured to the steps.

She followed his advice, sank down on the top step, and leaned her head against the railing. The metal felt cool and soothing against her temple.

‘Poor Rebecca,’ he said, walking slowly over to her. ‘Suspected of misuse of office in Darfur, fired from your job, and then your boyfriend left you. And today you were forced to shoot your own brother. So terribly tragic …’

He gently stroked her forehead.

The green letters on the sign above their heads turned into a clock, casting a red glow over his face. He leaned over and began to unbutton her jacket.

‘Such a shame that it has to end this way, my dear, but in my branch I’m afraid one can’t afford to leave any loose ends. In fact I’m almost rather surprised that your colleagues let you keep your gun, in light of what’s happened.’

He felt around her belt, then pulled her service pistol from its holster.

She made no attempt to stop him.

‘There’s no knowing what you might do, my dear Rebecca.’

He turned the gun over, inspecting it for a few seconds.

A tear seeped out of one of her eyes, then another.

‘Perhaps it would actually be a relief not to have to worry about it all any more? The poor police officer, under such stress, shooting her own brother. The media won’t show any mercy. When you look at it like that, you might even say that I’m doing you a favour.’

She looked at him, tried to open her mouth.

‘The … the coffee,’ she finally said.

‘Oh, don’t worry. It’s the same substance you’re already taking. Just a little stronger. Look, it even says your name on the label …’

He pulled out a little tub of pills and shook it between his thumb and forefinger. Then he put it in her pocket.

‘Time to say goodbye, I’m afraid …’

He raised the weapon and performed the bolt action.

Then he put the gun to her temple and fired.

The gun clicked.

He pulled it back, performed the bolt action again and fired once more.

Another click.

Sammer stared at the pistol, unable to understand what was happening.

Rebecca raised her head and met his gaze. Then she put her hand over the barrel, stood up and twisted the gun from his grasp.

He took a stumbling step backwards, then another. For the first time since she met him, his carefully controlled persona seemed to waver and for a moment he almost looked scared. It passed in a matter of seconds, then he collected himself.

She held the gun in both hands, performed the bolt action once, then a second time.

Two little green blank cartridges flew out, bouncing off the grilled floor and finding their way through the gaps to the roof twenty metres below.

She lowered the gun to waist height, but kept it pointed at him.

‘Live …’ she said bluntly, waving the gun. ‘In case you were wondering. By the way, I’ve given up the pills, and instant coffee …’ she added. ‘Someone told me they weren’t good for me …’

His mouth narrowed. ‘I see …’

He looked at her for a few moments.

‘What was it that …?’

‘Oh, a tiny detail. Something so insignificant that it took me several days to put my finger on it …’

He didn’t respond, just went on studying her.

‘The safe deposit box, your story, the passports, everything fitted together perfectly. Everything fell perfectly into place, and what Thore Sjögren told me in the Royal Library tied the last loose ends together beautifully. Like I said, it was all perfect …’

‘But?’

‘Perfect, if it hadn’t been for the name …’

‘I’m not sure I quite understand …?’ He tilted his head.

‘Thore was busy with a little digression and happened to call me by the wrong name, then very quickly and politely corrected himself. A silly little mistake, that’s all. There was just one problem … I never told Thore what my name was, so he must have known already. He must have known what I looked like, that I was going to show up at the library. The only person who knew that was you.’

‘And that was enough to make you suspicious …?’

‘That, and the fact that I was becoming more and more convinced that someone was tracking my phone. Keeping an eye on where I was and who I contacted. In the end I got some help from an old friend …’

‘Oh …’

He stood there in silence for several seconds, and seemed to be thinking.

‘Sandström?’

‘His name is Al-Hassan these days.’

‘Of course …’

‘Aren’t you going to ask if he’s alive, Uncle Tage? No, of course not, the explosion in the barn was part of your plan, after all. A way of removing him from the break-in at the Fortress. Manga switched the hard-drive for the bomb, exactly as planned, but to be on the safe side he made sure that the charge in the rucksack could never be detonated.’

She glanced up at the NK clock.

‘Three minutes ago he sent all the information on the hard-drive to all the news media …’

Sammer nodded slowly.

‘In my position you must always be prepared to be betrayed. There’s always someone younger, someone hungrier waiting for their chance. Up to now I have successfully managed to survive coups of that sort. But Sandström wasn’t on my list. He struck me as being rather too timid for that sort of power politics. Too soft …’

She shrugged. ‘Fear can be a powerful motivator …’

‘Naturally, but a plan like that requires someone considerably stronger, someone who has what Sandström lacks …’

He gave her a long look.

‘Evidently he found that person. You knew what was going on, Rebecca, yet you still played along. You let me pull the strings to get you back into the bodyguard unit. And put yourself at the front of the cortege so that …’

He shook his head.

‘You shot your own brother in order to get at me …’ His tone was almost admiring. ‘I clearly underestimated how determined you are, Rebecca. Your father would have …’

‘Don’t talk about my father!’ she snapped, raising the pistol towards his face. ‘You manipulated me, using my memories of Dad to make me trust you. Like you, even …’

She squeezed the trigger gently.

‘But there is no Uncle Tage, no André Pellas, no John Earnest or secret missions for the military …’ Her pulse was pounding against her temples. ‘No conspiracy, no Olof Palme Weapon, no fake passports in a forgotten safe deposit box. All there is, is you. An old man and a mass of lies. Uncle Tage … Even your name is a joke, almost as if you were laughing at me. Tage Sammer –
Game Master.’

She spat out the last two words.

‘Everything that happened was part of your plan. Henke, me, everyone else – we were just pawns. At least two different task-masters in desperate need of help. Black with the Data Retention Directive, the Palace with the popularity of the royal family. Who knows, maybe there were even more behind them, people wanting tougher legislation, more resources, more opportunities for surveillance …’

She slowly lowered the gun. Suddenly the sound of sirens could be heard in the distance.

‘The Grand Hotel was merely a demonstration, a sales pitch, to show what you could do, how much power you had. You let Henke steal that information from the Fortress so that you could seize it yourself. Then you’d have a serious stranglehold over PayTag, Black and their secret owners, not to mention every single MP …
Information is the new currency.’

She took a deep breath before she went on.

‘But to soften the blow you did actually deliver what was at the top of everyone’s wishlist, something that would
make them forgive your little transgression. A homegrown wanted terrorist prepared to launch an attack on the very symbol of Swedishness, and who, appropriately enough, gets shot and killed by his own sister before he can tell his own incredible story. After something like that, everyone will flock to the royal family, and parliament will rush through pretty much any legislation. No-one will protest, and no-one will ever doubt your power. The perfect game …’

She paused for breath again.

‘Tell me – am I wrong?’

He stood still for a few seconds, then shrugged.

‘My dear Rebecca, you disappoint me. You might very well think that, I couldn’t possibly comment.’

He let out an exaggerated sigh.

‘The crook is supposed to confess at the end so that the audience can have all the answers. So that the film ends happily and everyone can go home happy and satisfied. I daresay you’re even wearing something so banal as a hidden tape recorder?’

He shook his head.

‘My only response is that you and everyone else are free to believe whatever you choose to … Obviously, I couldn’t possibly comment …’

The sirens were getting closer, at least four or five vehicles, possibly more.

‘So what are you going to do now, Rebecca? Take me back to the station in handcuffs? Show the world how clever you’ve been?’

‘Well, I’ve certainly got enough on the tape to arrest you for attempted murder.’

She patted her inside pocket.

‘Your position at the Palace, your close collaboration with Eskil Stigsson and af Cederskjöld the spin doctor, all
of that will be examined in minute detail. By the end of the week at the very latest all the air will have gone out of your good friend Black and his company. I daresay the same will apply to the Data Retention Directive, if it even lasts that long …’

‘I see …’ His voice was dry, but the note of bitterness was still obvious.

‘And if that isn’t enough, there are all the witnesses. Manga, me, the three who were up at the Fortress.’

She paused for a moment.

‘And then of course there’s the most compelling testimony of all, from a person who can explain the details of the tasks you gave him …’

It took him a moment to understand what she meant. Then he slowly shook his head.

‘Your brother – of course, how could I have imagined anything else,’ he smiled. ‘I presume you had Runeberg’s help arranging that charade in Kungsgatan? The esteemed superintendent would do almost anything you ask, wouldn’t he?’

He took a deep breath, then held out his hands.

‘Congratulations, Rebecca, well played. I admit defeat …’

He turned and leaned heavily against the railing.

For a few seconds he stood quite still, then he turned to her and looked up at the rotating sign above them.

‘I’m proud of my work, Rebecca. I’ve achieved things that other people can only dream of …’

The red clock turned into a sign again, casting a green light over his face.

‘But I never broke the rules of the Game. Are you aware of them?’

She shook her head.

There were sirens everywhere now, echoing between the buildings and rooftops around them. Blue lights were reflecting off the windows of the buildings.

‘First and foremost: never discuss the Game with anyone. The second is that the Game Master is in control, he decides how and when the Game ends. That’s really all you need to remember …’

He took a final look at the rotating sign, then placed one foot on a cross-brace and climbed up onto the railing.

She made no attempt to stop him.

For a moment he stood on top of the railing, balancing there with his arms outstretched.

As the clock completed its circuit and turned the light from green to red, he fell slowly forward into the darkness.

Seconds later his body crashed through the glass roof, then carried on through the atrium of the department store before landing with a thud on the marble floor some fifty metres below her.