The Other Son by Alexander Söderberg

asked.
    She didn’t answer.
    “Or perhaps you’re not going behind their backs?”
    She remained silent.
    “Is he alive?”
    Sophie nodded.
    “How can I be sure that’s true?”
    Sophie remained silent.
    “What do you need, Sophie, to get Hector to hand himself over to us?” Roland asked.
    “Nothing.”
    “Meaning?”
    “Nothing. I can’t do it.”
    “What
can
you do?”
    “I can give you more than you’d get if you went in and took over now. If you’re patient, if you wait.”
    “How long?”
    “How long can you wait?”
    Ralph shrugged. He suddenly seemed completely uninterested in the whole meeting.
    “Anything else?” he asked.
    She twisted the ring on the ring finger of her right hand subconsciously.
    “I know about pretty much all the activities of Hector’s organization. Take whatever you want, I’ll help you, on condition that there’s no violence.”
    “You took a huge risk in coming here,” Ralph said. “I don’t know if you’re brave or just foolhardy. But here you are. And we know that you were in Istanbul with Aron.”
    Ralph fell into thought but stared at her the whole time.
    “Should I ask you to stay here with us?” he mused, almost to himself.
    Sophie hid her fear by looking away from him and staring down at her lap. Her left hand twisted the ring on her right ring finger. She could feel him still staring at her.
    “No,” he whispered, and leaned back.
    And with that, the meeting was over. Roland stood up and gestured for her to follow him. She remained seated for a few seconds, then stood up.
    There was a car waiting in the street. She got into the backseat. The car began to roll through Munich.
    Sophie put her hand to her mouth.
    Fuck…fuck…fuck!
    —
    Roland Gentz sat back down on his chair, Ralph Hanke on the sofa.
    “What’s her role in all this?” Ralph asked.
    Roland gave the question a few seconds in his head. But instead of answering he posed another question: “Was that Hector talking? Were we listening to Hector?”
    Ralph reflected. “No, not the way I saw it.”
    “So who was it, then? Aron? Herself?”
    Ralph and Roland considered this, without arriving at a conclusion.
    “What was she asking for, really?” Ralph asked.
    “She was asking for a respite,” Roland replied.
    “Can she be useful? Does she know all about the business?”
    “No, not the way she’s trying to make out. But with enough pressure she could still be useful.”
    “Her son?” Ralph asked.
    “Albert.”
    “He’s all she’s got?”
    “Yes.”
    Ralph’s eyes were focused on a point on the floor.
    “So she comes here and asks for more time. Time for them to gather their strength and hit back against us. Unless it really is the way she says, and she’s trying to avoid violence and conflict?”
    “She’s a nurse,” Roland said.
    “So she’s got nothing to give us?”
    “No, not as the person she’s pretending to be, anyway.”
    “But?”
    “You mentioned her son,” Roland said.
    A thought flashed into Ralph’s head.
    “Do they know that we know?” he asked.
    “How do you mean?”
    “Do they know that we know? That we know more about them than they know about us? That we’ve got hold of Hector’s son, that we know what their group looks like, we know their business is treading water.”
    “No, I don’t think they know all that.”
    “But they’ll know later this evening?”
    “Yes, Ralph, later this evening they’ll know.”
    “So, should we go ahead?”
    “Yes, we should,” Roland whispered.
    “Are you sure Koen can do it?” Ralph asked.
    “He ought to be able to.”
    “How stupid is he?”
    “Relatively.”
    “But?”
    “He’s got some sort of warped father complex. Wants our favor, wants approval, affirmation.”
    “Let him have it then. Call him, explain, help him,” Ralph said.
    “Hmm. Shall we bring Carlos in?” Roland asked.
    Ralph thought for a moment, then nodded.
    Roland got up from his armchair again, walked across the floor,