Of course. Monday’s bomb threats had had one purpose and one alone: to point the finger of suspicion at Karim.
‘And the other thing?’
‘Flight TU003,’ Eden said, turning the monitor so that Fredrika could see it. ‘Do you remember the article in which Tennyson Cottage was mentioned? Adam Mortaji’s father said that his son had killed himself, and his girlfriend didn’t get there in time. Sofi could have been clever and gone for any pilot, but instead she chose to make it personal.’
Fredrika leaned forward; there seemed to be a passenger list on the screen.
‘Karim flew from Copenhagen to Rabat in May,’ Eden said. ‘I’m absolutely certain that Sofi was on board, under a different name. The flight was delayed for so long that she arrived too late to see Adam, the love of her life. By the time she finally got there, her boyfriend had already killed himself.’
Fredrika felt that sensation of emptiness again. She realised Eden was right. Hopefully, it was only a matter of time before they worked out Sofi’s alias.
‘It was very convenient for her that Zakaria actually knew Karim,’ she said.
It took a while before the extent of the damage Sofi had deliberately caused Karim became clear. She had made absolutely certain that he would appear to be involved in her plan. While he defended his actions on the grounds that his family had been held hostage, the police would be able to confirm that this had never been the case. The question was how the Americans would choose to judge him. Harshly, in all probability. Very harshly indeed.
‘It doesn’t look good for either of them,’ Eden said, as if she knew what Fredrika was thinking.
No, it certainly didn’t.
‘What about the recordings of the bomb threats?’ Fredrika asked. ‘Did you get anywhere with trying to remove that stupid voice distortion?’
Eden pulled a face.
‘It wasn’t quite as stupid as we thought, but we’re working on it.’
In Fredrika’s opinion it probably didn’t matter all that much. She was convinced it was Sofi’s voice they would hear if they managed to remove all the interference.
‘She must have broken into Karim’s house,’ she said.
‘To plant the Tennyson book, you mean?’
‘Yes. It seems strange that they didn’t notice anything.’
Eden’s mobile rang, and she picked it up off the desk.
‘She could have had people helping her. Skilled people. And the book was only lying on top of the others on the shelf, after all. If nothing else had been touched, why would they notice an extra book among all the rest?’
That was true, of course. And it might not have been there for long.
‘So you don’t think she was working alone?’ Fredrika said.
‘On something like this? No, I don’t.’
How would they find out? Fredrika had no idea. Reluctantly she had to admit that she’d run out of energy. She just wanted to go home.
‘There was something else I wanted to talk to you about,’ Eden said. ‘Sebastian has started looking for another job; he feels he’s ready to move on. We’ll be needing a new head of analysis; would you be interested?’
Fredrika was paralysed with shock.
‘Me? Head of analysis? Here?’
She looked around at the world outside Eden’s glass cube, in an open-plan office so cut off from the rest of the world that she thought she would go crazy if she came to work here.
‘What do you think?’ Eden said.
Eden, who would be Fredrika’s boss if she said yes.
‘It’s not for me,’ Fredrika said. ‘But thank you for the offer.’
Her shift with Säpo was over, and she didn’t feel as if she wanted to come back.
It had been worth a try. Fredrika Bergman had many of the qualities Eden looked for a new recruit.
Integrity.
Analytical skill.
Intellect.
But if she didn’t want it, she didn’t want it, and that was the end of that.
What was more difficult to deal with was the fact that her own employer was keeping secrets from her. She had seen it when she went outside to get a signal on her mobile, and Efraim turned up. At first, she had thought she was just being paranoid, but after a minute or so she was certain. There were two surveillance officers sitting in a car on the other side of the street, and it was obvious that they were there because of Efraim. He had presumably seen them as soon as they started following him.
But how could Säpo possibly know about Efraim?
She knew it couldn’t be a coincidence. And she remembered how stressed GD had been whenever she had met up with him during the day. Something had happened, that much was clear, but for the life of her Eden couldn’t work out why it had happened right now.
Of course the Brits had come calling; she was wise enough to realise that. The question was, why had they decided to pass on information to her new employer at this stage? Eden would never have got the post as head of counter-terrorism if they had known from the outset. It was that simple. For a while at the beginning, she had wondered whether to take preventative action, to devalue the information by going to see GD and putting her cards on the table.
I made a mistake.
I allowed myself to be led astray, and embarked on a clandestine relationship with an Israeli who turned out to be a Mossad agent.
I swear I didn’t know who he was, and I also swear that as soon as I realised the truth, I ended the affair just as quickly as it had begun.
The only damage done was to me personally. I betrayed my husband, and believe me, I pay for that every night when the guilt keeps me awake.
But she couldn’t bring herself to make things so simple. Instead, she had allowed the time to pass, and that had been another mistake.
The Brits knew that she wasn’t a spy. The very idea was ridiculous. But it was a good story to sell to others, which was what they had done. To Säpo as well, no doubt. Just to discredit her. And all because when she had realised what Efraim’s agenda was, she had chosen to end their relationship rather than reporting it to her superiors and beginning to play a double game.
‘Do you realise what an opportunity you’ve thrown away?’ her boss had yelled. ‘You could have carried on seeing him, pretended to let him recruit you, and gained a unique insight into Mossad, for fuck’s sake!’
The problem was not that Eden didn’t realise, but that the price was too high. She would never forget that night when it all ended, and she got back late to the apartment she shared with Mikael.
‘We have to move to Sweden,’ she had said. ‘I no longer have a job.’
And then came the tears. The regret. The despair. She didn’t know whether Mikael would have stayed with her if he hadn’t had his God. If he hadn’t been such an expert when it came to forgiveness.
I’m the only one who can’t forgive, Eden thought.
She hadn’t forgiven her former boss, or Efraim, and she definitely hadn’t forgiven herself. The shame and embarrassment set her heart on fire. She clenched her fists in her lap and forced herself to breathe calmly. It had been so horrible, seeing Efraim again.
It’s not so much that I hate him, more that I still want to go to bed with him. Just once more. Mikael, my love, forgive your wife for being such a cheap creature.
They were flowing again, those bloody tears. Didn’t she deserve something better than tears after a day like this?
In less than twenty-four hours, she had led an investigation where the team had managed to work out the story behind a hijacking that could have had such dire consequences that Eden didn’t even want to think about it.
Resolutely, she dried her eyes. Enough. For several years.
She had a job to do and family to take care of. And she had decided to do what she should have done right from the start.