‘But it’s after that that it gets really interesting,’ Nadja said. ‘Really interesting, if you ask me, Bäckström.’
Really interesting?
‘Roughly once a week, four to six times each month, in total twenty-four times throughout this period, three acronyms recur: HA, AFS, and FI, always capital letters. They occur with more or less the same regularity and are always followed by a number. Each acronym is always followed by the same number: “HA five,” “AFS twenty,” “FI fifty.” The pattern repeats, with just one exception. On one occasion the acronym FI is followed by the number one hundred, then a B and an exclamation mark: “FI one hundred B!” ’
‘What’s your interpretation?’ Bäckström said, sitting and looking at the printout he had been given for simplicity’s sake, scratching his round head with his right hand.
‘I think HA, AFS, and FI are people’s initials,’ Nadja said. ‘And I think the numbers five, ten, twenty, fifty, and one hundred refer to the amount of money being paid out. A sort of basic code, in other words.’
‘Well, he seems to have got off fairly cheaply, dear old Danielsson,’ Bäckström said, and grinned. Even I could live with a fiver, or a twenty- or fifty-kronor note, Bäckström thought. Maybe even a hundred, as long as it didn’t become a habit, of course. But it didn’t look as though it had. Just the once.
‘I don’t think so,’ Nadja said, shaking her head. ‘I think they’re multiples,’ Nadja said.
‘Multiples?’ Bäckström said. Nazdorovje? Nyet? Da? What the hell does she mean? he thought.
‘That the initials FI, who gets fifty, gets ten times as much as the initials HA, who gets five. Apart from the one occasion when he gets one hundred — in other words, twenty times as much.’
‘Exactly,’ Bäckström said. ‘Obviously,’ he said. ‘And this character AFS, who gets twenty each time, gets four times as much as HA, but only half of what FI gets...’
‘Forty percent as much, except for the time when FI gets a hundred,’ Nadja corrected.
‘Exactly, exactly, that’s just what I was about to say. But what about this “Bea,” then? After every one of these payments it always says Bea,’ Bäckström said, pointing at the list he had been given. ‘For instance, “FI fifty, Bea,” or “HA five, Bea.” What do you make of that?’
‘I think it’s code for some sort of payment,’ Nadja said. ‘People like Danielsson often used abbreviations like that. For instance pd would mean that you’ve paid. Bea might mean that you have to pay a certain amount: only he would have known.’
‘I see,’ Bäckström said, stroking his chin and trying to look smarter than he felt. ‘How much money are we talking about?
‘How much money?’ he repeated, just to make sure, considering the heavy mathematical calculations they were dealing with here.
‘Well, this is all speculation, now, as I’m sure you appreciate,’ Nadja said.
‘I’m listening,’ Bäckström said, putting his printout down and leaning back. Make the most of it, Nadja, he thought. Now that you’re talking to the only person in the entire force who’s smart enough to understand what you’re saying.
‘If we assume that Danielsson took out two million kronor on the day he was murdered, and bearing in mind that it was almost six months since he was last down in that bank vault, and if he took out the same amount on that occasion, then I estimate that every month he was paying circa seventeen thousand to HA, almost seventy thousand to AFS and about one hundred and seventy thousand to FI.
‘In other words, circa two hundred and fifty thousand each month,’ she went on. ‘Over six months that comes to one and a half million. If we add in the other costs he must have incurred in connection with this activity, plus the hundred and seventy thousand that FI got on the occasion that he received the multiple of a hundred B plus exclamation mark, we end up with about two million. If we’re talking ballpark numbers, of course,’ Nadja concluded, with the linguistic flexibility that had become part of her Swedish personality.
‘I understand exactly what you mean,’ Bäckström said, having at least absorbed the most important points. If I was one of those fucking analysts at Criminal Intelligence, I’d hang my head in shame if I ever met Nadja, he thought.
‘So what are we going to do about this?’ Bäckström asked. After all, I’m still the boss here, he thought.
‘I thought we could add it to what we’ve made available to Criminal Intelligence,’ Nadja said. ‘See if there’s anyone there who has anything to offer.’
‘Go ahead,’ Bäckström said, nodding eagerly. How on earth could those morons have anything to add at this sort of level? he thought.
‘If it comes to it, we’ll just have to work it out for ourselves,’ he added.
Thirty minutes later Superintendent Toivonen stormed into Bäckström’s office. His face was deep red and he was waving the latest Criminal Intelligence information that he’d just printed off from his e-mail.
‘What the hell are you playing at, Bäckström?’ Toivonen snarled.
‘Fine,’ Bäckström said. ‘Thanks for asking. And how are you?’ Fucking fox, he thought.
‘HA, AFS, and FI,’ Toivonen said, waving the printout. ‘What the hell are you playing at, Bäckström?’
‘I get the feeling that you’re in a position to tell me that,’ Bäckström said with a friendly grin. Correct me if I’m wrong, you Finnish bastard, he thought.
‘HA as in Hassan Talib, AFS as in Afsan Ibrahim. FI as in Farshad Ibrahim,’ Toivonen said, glaring at him.
‘Doesn’t ring any bells,’ Bäckström said, shaking his head. ‘So who are these clowns?’
‘You never heard of them?’ Toivonen said. ‘You’d think they might be familiar even to people working in the lost property office, where you’ve spent the past few years. I daresay the guys in the traffic office know who they are. But you don’t?’
‘If I did, I wouldn’t have had to put it up on Criminal Intelligence, would I?’ Bäckström said. Are you thick, or what? That was a so-called rhetorical question. Chew on that, my little Finnish joker, Bäckström thought with a broad smile.
‘Just you watch yourself, Bäckström,’ Toivonen said.
And with that, he walked out.
45.
Before Superintendent Toivonen went home for the day he had a meeting with police chief Anna Holt. She had asked for an informal conversation, just the two of them. Without mineral water, minutes, and other unnecessary formalities.
After his encounter with Bäckström he had gone straight to see Nadja. He had explained the situation to her and asked her to keep a close eye on any information that might be connected to the armed raid out at Bromma.
‘I’m sorry,’ Nadja said. ‘I had no idea there might be a link between our case and the robbery. If I’d known, obviously I would have come to you first.’
‘Good,’ Toivonen said, sounding more severe than he had intended. ‘Tomorrow we’re picking up the pace of the whole process against the Ibrahim brothers and their cousin. I don’t want it getting out onto the street, and I don’t want to read about it in the papers.’
‘Don’t worry about Bäckström,’ Nadja said, patting him on the arm. ‘I promise I’ll keep an eye on him.’
‘I’ve never been the slightest bit worried about you,’ Toivonen said.
Then he had taken a quick walk round Solna to lower his blood pressure before going to see his boss.