through quite advanced projects behind his parents’ backs.
‘You mean in Sweden?’
Alex was surprised.
‘Well yes – that’s where we are.’
‘I’m only asking because he loves visiting my parents in Israel,’ Daphne explained. ‘I’m not sure if he has any favourite places here in Sweden. We have a summer
cottage that he loves, but he never mentions it in the winter when we’re not there.’
Alex made a mental note of the summer cottage, but he didn’t really think it would get them anywhere.
He was just about to end the interview when his mobile rang. The call came from one of his colleagues at HQ.
They thought they had found the boys.
I f Eden Lundell had the choice, she thought she would like to die on a cold winter’s day just like this one. But not until she was old or worthless, of course, whichever came first.
The call had come in just under an hour ago. Someone had reported hearing shooting out at Drottningholm. Two shots at an interval of approximately twenty minutes. Not in the immediate vicinity
of the palace, but security had decided to contact Säpo’s personal protection unit anyway. A group of bodyguards accompanied by members of the National Task Force had searched the park
and surrounding area, but found nothing out of the ordinary.
They were just about to call off the operation when they found the bodies on the edge of the Royal Drottningholm Golf Club. They were lying on their backs, approximately fifty metres apart.
Eden was informed about the original call only because she was spending a few weeks as acting head of the personal protection unit, while carrying out her duties as head of
counter-terrorism at the same time.
‘I know you’re not exactly short of something to do,’ GD had said. ‘But I’d really appreciate it if you could support our bodyguards while their chief is on sick
leave for two days a week.’
Eden always had time. Time was something you created, not something you were given. She also felt that the work of the personal protection unit had many links to the activities of her own
team.
The discovery of the two bodies was reported directly to Eden and the head of the protection unit. Five minutes later they were in a car heading towards Drottningholm, at Eden’s
suggestion.
‘I hope it’s not those boys who went missing in Östermalm yesterday,’ her colleague said.
Who else would it be? Eden thought.
It did her good to get away from Kungsholmen for a while. There had been just one thing on her mind ever since GD called her the previous evening:
Efraim Kiel.
The biggest fuck-up in her entire life.
What the hell was he doing back in Stockholm?
She had had a brief meeting with GD first thing in the morning. Efraim had checked into the same hotel as last time, and was already under surveillance. No doubt he felt safe there. He
wouldn’t be able to go anywhere without them knowing exactly what he was up to. Whatever that was supposed to achieve.
They stopped in the avenue leading to Lovö church, where several vehicles were already parked. Eden slammed the car door and greeted the colleague who came over to meet them, a young man
she hadn’t seen before.
‘You were the one who ran the investigation into the plane hijacking last year, weren’t you?’ he said.
‘Yes,’ she said. ‘I was.’
She had been relatively new to the job back then. A plane carrying four hundred passengers had taken off from Arlanda, and was hijacked high above the clouds. The only person who had so far been held responsible for his actions was the captain,
who had been sentenced to life imprisonment in the USA. The chances of his being allowed to serve his sentence in a Swedish prison were negligible, and the prospect of a pardon was even less
likely.
They ploughed through the snow, sinking up to their knees.
From a distance they could see only two paper bags, sticking up out of the snow and breaking the line of the landscape. Brown and hard. Both
‘You mean in Sweden?’
Alex was surprised.
‘Well yes – that’s where we are.’
‘I’m only asking because he loves visiting my parents in Israel,’ Daphne explained. ‘I’m not sure if he has any favourite places here in Sweden. We have a summer
cottage that he loves, but he never mentions it in the winter when we’re not there.’
Alex made a mental note of the summer cottage, but he didn’t really think it would get them anywhere.
He was just about to end the interview when his mobile rang. The call came from one of his colleagues at HQ.
They thought they had found the boys.
I f Eden Lundell had the choice, she thought she would like to die on a cold winter’s day just like this one. But not until she was old or worthless, of course, whichever came first.
The call had come in just under an hour ago. Someone had reported hearing shooting out at Drottningholm. Two shots at an interval of approximately twenty minutes. Not in the immediate vicinity
of the palace, but security had decided to contact Säpo’s personal protection unit anyway. A group of bodyguards accompanied by members of the National Task Force had searched the park
and surrounding area, but found nothing out of the ordinary.
They were just about to call off the operation when they found the bodies on the edge of the Royal Drottningholm Golf Club. They were lying on their backs, approximately fifty metres apart.
Eden was informed about the original call only because she was spending a few weeks as acting head of the personal protection unit, while carrying out her duties as head of
counter-terrorism at the same time.
‘I know you’re not exactly short of something to do,’ GD had said. ‘But I’d really appreciate it if you could support our bodyguards while their chief is on sick
leave for two days a week.’
Eden always had time. Time was something you created, not something you were given. She also felt that the work of the personal protection unit had many links to the activities of her own
team.
The discovery of the two bodies was reported directly to Eden and the head of the protection unit. Five minutes later they were in a car heading towards Drottningholm, at Eden’s
suggestion.
‘I hope it’s not those boys who went missing in Östermalm yesterday,’ her colleague said.
Who else would it be? Eden thought.
It did her good to get away from Kungsholmen for a while. There had been just one thing on her mind ever since GD called her the previous evening:
Efraim Kiel.
The biggest fuck-up in her entire life.
What the hell was he doing back in Stockholm?
She had had a brief meeting with GD first thing in the morning. Efraim had checked into the same hotel as last time, and was already under surveillance. No doubt he felt safe there. He
wouldn’t be able to go anywhere without them knowing exactly what he was up to. Whatever that was supposed to achieve.
They stopped in the avenue leading to Lovö church, where several vehicles were already parked. Eden slammed the car door and greeted the colleague who came over to meet them, a young man
she hadn’t seen before.
‘You were the one who ran the investigation into the plane hijacking last year, weren’t you?’ he said.
‘Yes,’ she said. ‘I was.’
She had been relatively new to the job back then. A plane carrying four hundred passengers had taken off from Arlanda, and was hijacked high above the clouds. The only person who had so far been held responsible for his actions was the captain,
who had been sentenced to life imprisonment in the USA. The chances of his being allowed to serve his sentence in a Swedish prison were negligible, and the prospect of a pardon was even less
likely.
They ploughed through the snow, sinking up to their knees.
From a distance they could see only two paper bags, sticking up out of the snow and breaking the line of the landscape. Brown and hard. Both
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