If she wanted to. As Spencer was going anyway.
Otherwise Alex would go himself.
But there wasn’t much time if she was to leave on Sunday. It was only in films that the police hopped on a plane and started conducting an investigation in another country. In reality that kind of thing was extremely rare, and it never happened without a preliminary discussion with the local police authorities. Alex didn’t really know how it worked.
A collaboration with the Israeli police.
Had they ever done anything like that before? Alex’s boss could recall a few occasions, but there were no established channels to fall back on. Eden Lundell had made it very clear that she couldn’t provide any contacts in Israel, but she had promised to check out Efraim Kiel for them. Fredrika thought that sounded very useful.
But travelling to Israel with Spencer… How was she going to manage that, even if she wanted to?
‘You wouldn’t have to stay long,’ Alex had said. ‘Just a couple of days.’
‘I don’t see how I could do it,’ Fredrika had replied. ‘Who’d look after the children?’
Alex didn’t have an answer to that.
Nonetheless, Fredrika had called her parents as soon as she finished talking to Alex, just to ask if they could possibly have the children.
Her mother sounded worried.
‘But why do you have to go to Israel as well?’
‘It’s work, Mum. Otherwise of course I would have taken the kids.’
Spencer overheard the conversation, and was staring at her when she put down the phone.
‘Pardon me for asking,’ he said. ‘But am I to understand that you’re coming with me on Sunday?’
‘It looks that way. If Mum and Dad will have the kids.’
Spencer smiled, and she knew that he remembered too. The time they had gone to Israel together. Locked themselves in their hotel room and said that Spencer was too ill to attend some of his conference sessions. When darkness fell they had crept out into the city, away from the prying eyes of his colleagues.
Those were the days.
The decision-making process would take care of itself. If the practical issues could be solved, she was prepared to go.
Her mother rang a little while later; they were happy to look after the children, who at that moment were whirling around the apartment like two small tornadoes, heartily sick of their mother’s lack of attention. Spencer had spent a great deal of time alone with them over the past few days. She hoped they would be okay; she hardly ever went away and left them.
She grabbed her son as he shot past.
‘Yes, I am coming with you,’ she said firmly to Spencer, ‘but only for a couple of days.’
‘What will you be doing there?’
‘Working on the case. We can’t find all the answers we need here in Stockholm.’
Alex could sort out all the practicalities. It was Friday evening, the beginning of the Jewish Sabbath. On Saturday everything would be closed, and it would be impossible to get hold of anyone, or at least anyone in authority. And then it would be Sunday, the day they were supposed to be travelling. Alex would have to get things moving so that Fredrika could set to work straight away; she didn’t have time to sit around waiting when she got there.
With her son balanced on one hip, she made a start on dinner. Spencer worked beside her in silence, preparing a salad as she fried the meat. The potatoes were already in the oven, and the wine was breathing.
Isak chortled as the meat began to sizzle. Fredrika kissed his forehead, thinking that he was like his daddy, and that he ought to be proud of that.
Thoughts of the investigation were threatening to overwhelm her. Alex had unrealistic expectations of what she was going to be able to achieve. He wanted a more detailed description of who the Paper Boy was. Fredrika had searched online for the mysterious boy, but had found nothing. She had even asked Spencer, since he was a professor of literature, but he had had nothing to contribute.
Alex also wanted to know more about why the Eisenberg and Goldmann families had left Israel. Success depended on whether Fredrika managed to track down any relatives, and she felt as if the project was doomed from the start. Why should they agree to speak to her, even if she did find them?
The last thing Alex wanted her to follow up was the only one that seemed achievable: to visit the places from which the Lion had emailed, and to ask if she could look at any customer records they might have.
If they could just find out who the Lion was, Fredrika thought they would have made significant progress.
When he fired her, Eden Lundell’s British boss had mentioned what he regarded as her finest quality: an uncanny ability to spot connections that anyone else would have missed.
‘Don’t imagine that I believe for one second that you didn’t realise who Efraim Kiel was,’ he had roared, slamming his fist down on the desk. ‘You knew perfectly well that you were fucking Mossad and taking a huge risk.’
He had been both right and wrong. Eden certainly had a unique talent when it came to drawing conclusions far beyond the obvious, but on one occasion it had let her down, and that was when she embarked upon a relationship with Efraim Kiel. A man who was once again haunting her and turning her life upside down.
Eden was a gifted strategist, but she was also a very good poker player. She hadn’t even blinked when Alex mentioned Efraim Kiel’s name. He had unconsciously confirmed what she had suspected – that there was a link between Efraim’s stay in Stockholm and the murders in the Solomon Community. Alex had said that he didn’t suspect Efraim, and nor did Eden. But somehow Efraim knew more than seemed reasonable about what had happened, and Eden wanted to know how and why.
As expected, Mikael was furious when Eden walked in and announced that she was off to London the following morning.
‘Tomorrow? It’s the weekend, Eden. That means you spend time with your family; we do stuff together.’
Eden looked at her daughters, who were watching wide-eyed as their parents argued. They saw this kind of thing far too often, which wasn’t good. The knowledge that she was damaging them was painful, and it made her feel sad. And exhausted.
It’s for your sake I’m doing this, she wanted to say.
Because as long as Efraim Kiel was on her mind, she would have no peace.
There were times when she wondered if she had been right to tell Mikael what had happened. It wasn’t the fact that she had told him per se; she had had no choice. However, she wasn’t sure she had told him enough.
She had told Mikael only that she had met someone else. That it had to do with work, which was why they had to leave London.
She had admitted that she had fallen for this other man, started a relationship with him.
And ended it after a very short time.
Which wasn’t true. Her affair with Efraim had lasted, on and off, for two years, which told her two things she found very difficult to cope with: that she had really wanted him, and that Mossad had really wanted her.
Two years was a long time to run a recruitment operation. They had got nothing from her. She had no idea how frustrated that made them, but she could hazard a guess.
Dani crept over to Eden and wrapped her arms around one leg. Eden stroked her curly hair, which had surprised so many members of both her family and Mikael’s. A trick of nature, Eden always said if anyone mentioned it.
‘Are you going away?’ Dani said.
‘I’ll be back on Sunday.’
‘Is that a long time?’
‘It’s hardly any time at all, sweetheart.’
Dani smiled. She was much easier to cheer up than Mikael; easier to talk round.
Eden freed herself from her daughter’s iron grip and went into the kitchen.
‘This is important, Mikael,’ she said. ‘I can’t tell you any more than that, but I’m asking you to trust me. I wouldn’t do this if there was any alternative.’