Henning mankell ebba seg.., p.39
Henning Mankell; Ebba Segerberg, page 39
Alfredsson shook his head and seemed to want to protest, but Wallander held him back.
"Go on."
"I started looking for the other pieces of the puzzle. We know something here proceeds from the left to the right. There is an end point and that's how we deduce that something is going to happen. But we don't know what. I decided to surf the Web for information about the financial institutions we had already identified. The National Bank of Indonesia, the World Bank, the stockbroker in Seoul. I tried to see if they had anything in common, the point one is always searching for."
"What point would that be?"
"The point of weakness. The one spot where someone could enter the system without anyone noticing."
"But there's a lot of awareness about hackers these days," Martinsson said. "And the business world is getting faster at responding to computer viruses when they emerge."
"The United States already has the capacity to conduct computer wars," Alfredsson said. "Earlier the talk has been about computer-programmed missiles, or 'smart' bombs. But soon that will be as antiquated as cavalry. Now the objective is to dismantle the enemy's networks and knock out their missiles. Or better yet, to direct the enemy's missiles against himself."
"Is this really true?" Wallander said, sceptically.
"It is definitely in the works," Alfredsson said. "But we should also be honest about the fact that there are many things we just don't know. Weapons systems are complicated."
"Let's get back to Falk's computer," Wallander said. "Did you find those weak points?"
"I'm not sure," Modin said hesitantly. "But I think there is a way to see a connection between all of these institutions. They do have one thing in common."
"And what is that?"
"They make up the cornerstones of the global financial network. If you compromised them enough you would be able to set in motion a crisis that could derail all of the world's financial systems. The stock markets would crash. There would be panic. Everyone would rush to take out their money. Currency exchanges would fluctuate wildly until no-one could be sure what the rates should be."
"And who would be interested in causing anything of this nature?"
Martinsson and Alfredsson spoke at the same time.
"Many people," Alfredsson said. "It sounds like the highest form of terrorism imaginable. And there are many people out there eager to cause chaos and destruction."
"Taking out the global financial network would be the ultimate act of sabotage." Martinsson said.
"Does everyone in this room think that that's what we're looking at here? And that something like this is housed in a computer in Ystad?" Wallander said.
"It's definitely something like this," Martinsson said. "I've never come across anything like it before."
"Is it harder to break into than the Pentagon?" Alfredsson said.
Modin narrowed his eyes. "It's certainly not less complicated."
"I'm not sure how best to proceed in this kind of a situation," Wallander said.
"I'll talk to my people in Stockholm," Alfredsson said. "I'll send in a report that will later get sent on all over the world. We have to alert the institutions involved so that they can take precautions."
"If it isn't already too late," Modin mumbled.
Everyone heard him, but no-one made any comment. Alfredsson left the room in a hurry.
"I still find it hard to credit," Wallander said.
"Well, whatever it is in Falk's computer, there are people ready to kill to keep the system and countdown going," Martinsson said.
Wallander gestured at Modin so that Martinsson would understand that he should choose his words with more care.
"The question is: what we can do?" Wallander said. "Is there anything we can do?"
"There's often a button to push," Modin said abruptly. "If you infect a computer system with a virus you often hide it in an innocent and common command. But in order to set off the virus several things have to come together at once. The commands need to be carried out at a precise time, for example."
"The best thing we can do now is carry on with what we've been doing," Martinsson said. "We need to warn the institutions that they're in danger of an attack so that they can double up on their security procedures. Alfredsson will handle the rest."
Martinsson scribbled a few words on a piece of paper. He looked up at Wallander who bent over to read them: The threat against Modin is serious.
Wallander nodded. Whoever had been spying on Modin from the road between the fields had known how important he was. He was in the same situation that Hökberg had been in.
Wallander's phone rang. Hansson was calling to let him know that the search for his attacker had not yet yielded any results, but they would continue unabated.
"How is Nyberg doing?"
"He is comparing fingerprints."
Hansson was still out near Backåkra, where he would stay for now. He didn't know where Höglund was.
They ended the conversation. Wallander tried to phone Höglund, but her phone had no signal.
There was a knock on the door and Wallander went to unblock the door. Irene came in with a box.
"Here's the food," she said. "Who's supposed to take care of the bill? I had to pay the delivery man out of my own pocket."
"I'll take care of it" Wallander said and stretched out his hand for the receipt.
Modin ate. Wallander and Martinsson watched him in silence. Then Wallander's phone rang again. It was Elvira Lindfeldt. He went out into the hall and closed the door behind him.
"I heard on the radio that shots were fired in an incident near Ystad," she said. "And there were policemen involved. I hope that wasn't you."
"Not directly," Wallander said vaguely. "But we have a lot going on right now."
"It made me worried, that's all. I had to ask. Now of course I'm getting curious, but I won't ask any more questions."
"There isn't much I can tell you," Wallander said.
"I understand that you don't have a lot of free time at the moment."
"It's too early to say. But I'll be in touch."
When the conversation was over Wallander thought about the fact that it had been a long time since anyone had worried about him. Let alone cared about him.
He went back into the room. It was 5.40 p.m. Modin was still eating. Wallander and Martinsson left to get some coffee.
"I forgot to tell you that I cross-checked the list of names I got from Sydkraft. But I didn't find anything."
"We didn't expect to," Wallander said.
The coffee machine was on the blink again. Martinsson pulled out the plug and then put it in again. Now it was working.
"Is there a computer program inside the coffee machine?" Wallander said.
"Hardly," Martinsson said. "Though I guess you can imagine more sophisticated machines that would be controlled with tiny computer chips."
"What if someone went in and changed the program? Could they change it so that tea came out instead of coffee? And milk when someone wanted latte?"
"Of course."
"But how would it get triggered? How could you get it to start?"
"Well, you could imagine that a certain date has been entered in. A date and a time, perhaps an interval of an hour. Then the eleventh time that someone presses the button for coffee, the virus is triggered."
"Why the eleventh?"
"That was just an example. It could have been any number that you had chosen."
"Is there anything you can do once that change occurs?"
"You could pull out the plug and restart it," Martinsson said. "You can hang out a sign saying the machine is broken. But the program that runs the machine would have to be replaced."
"Is this what Modin is talking about?"
"Yes, but on a larger scale."
"And we have no idea where Falk's coffee machine is."
"It could be anywhere in the world."
"And that would mean that whoever sets off the chain reaction wouldn't need to be aware of it."
"It would be an advantage if whoever it was were nowhere near where the virus first arises."
"So we are looking for the symbolic equivalent of a coffee machine," Wallander said. He walked to the window and stared out. It was already dark. "I want you to do something," he said. "I'd like you to write a memo about what we just talked about. The threat of a global financial collapse. Get Alfredsson to help you. Then send it on to Stockholm and all of the international police agencies you can think of."
"If we're wrong we'll be the laughing stock of the world."
"We'll have to take that chance. Give me the papers and I'll sign them."
Martinsson left. Wallander stayed in the canteen, deep in thought. He didn't notice when Höglund came in. He jumped when she appeared at his side.
"You know the poster of that film," she said, "the one you saw in Hökberg's wardrobe?"
"The Devil's Advocate. I have the video at home, I just haven't had time to watch it."
"I don't think the film is so important, actually," she said. "But I've been thinking about Al Pacino. He resembles someone."
Wallander looked at her.
"Who does he resemble?"
"He looks like the man in her sketch. Carl-Einar Lundberg. He actually looks a little like Al Pacino."
She was right. Wallander had seen a picture of Lundberg in a file she had put on his desk. He just hadn't thought about the resemblance until now. Another detail fell into place.
They sat at a table. Höglund was tired.
"I went to talk to Persson," she said. "I thought I would be able to get something more out of her. Silly me."
"How was she?"
"She is still impregnably nonchalant. That's the worst thing. I wish she looked as though she slept badly and cried at night. But she doesn't. She just sits there chewing her gum and seems mildly irritated at having to answer my questions."
"She's hiding her feelings," Wallander said. "We just can't see it."
"I do hope you're right."
Wallander briefed her on Modin's hypothesis of an impending financial collapse.
"We've never even been close to something like this," she said when he finished. "If it's true."
"We'll find out on Monday, I guess. Unless we think of some way to intervene."
"Do you think we will?"
"Maybe. Martinsson is contacting police from all over the world, and Alfredsson is getting in touch with all of the institutions on Falk's list."
"There isn't much time. If it really is set for Monday. It's the weekend already."
"There is never enough time," Wallander answered.
By 9 p.m. Modin was exhausted. It was agreed that he should not spend the next few nights at home, but when Martinsson suggested that he sleep at the station he refused point-blank. Wallander thought of calling Sten Widén to see if he had space for an extra person, but decided against it; and for security reasons he could not stay with anyone on the investigative team, since they could also be considered a target.
Finally Wallander thought of someone to ask. Elvira Lindfeldt. She was completely unconnected, and it would also give him a chance to see her if only for a short while. He did not mention her name, but said he would take Modin to a safe place for the night.
He called her at 9.30 p.m. "I have a question that may seem a little strange," he said.
"I'm used to strange questions."
"Could you put someone up for the night?"
"Who would that be?"
"Do you remember the young man who came to the restaurant that night?"
"His name was Kolin?"
"Modin."
"Has he nowhere to sleep?"
"I'm only going to say that he needs a place to stay for a few nights."
"Of course he can stay here. How is he going to get here?"
"I'll give him a lift. We'll be there shortly."
"Would you like anything to eat when you arrive?"
"Some coffee would be good. That's all."
They left the station at 9.50 p.m. By the time they passed Skurup, Wallander was satisfied that no-one was following them.
Elvira put the receiver down slowly. She was happy, in fact more than happy. She was overjoyed. This was an amazing stroke of luck. She thought about Carter who was about to take off from the Luanda airport. He would be happy too. After all, this was exactly what he had wanted.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
The night of Saturday, October 18, Wallander would remember as one of the worst in his life. Afterwards he would think back to a near accident that night as a sign. As they passed the turning to Svedala, someone had suddenly decided to overtake him just at the moment that a huge truck was bearing down on them from the other direction. Wallander turned as sharply as he could without driving off the road, and managed to avoid the car, but it had been close. Modin was asleep in the seat and didn't notice anything, but Wallander's heart was pounding inside his chest.
He kept driving and his mind reverted uneasily to what Höglund had told him about Martinsson and his games. He had an unpleasant sense of being on trial and not being sure of his own innocence. The anxiety and worry was nagging at him from all sides.
When he followed the sign off the main road for Jägersro, Modin woke up.
"We'll soon be there," Wallander said.
"I was dreaming," Modin said. "Someone tried to attack me."
Wallander found the house easily enough. It was in the far corner of a housing development that looked to have been built between the wars. He drew up.
"Who lives here?" Modin said.
"A friend of mine," Wallander said. "Her name is Elvira. You'll be safe here. I'll send someone to pick you up in the morning."
"I don't even have a toothbrush," Modin said.
"We'll take care of it somehow."
It was pretty late, but Wallander had imagined that he would have a cup of coffee, look at her lovely legs and stay until about midnight.
But they had only just gone inside when Wallander's phone rang. It was Hansson. He could tell that something was up by the tension in his voice. They had found traces of the man they thought had shot at Wallander. Once again it was a person out walking their dog who had helped them. He had spotted a man who seemed to be hiding in the bushes and generally behaving oddly. Since he had been seeing police cars driving to and fro all day, the dog owner thought it best to call in with his information. The dog owner had told Hansson that the man looked as though he was wearing a black raincoat.
Wallander quickly introduced Elvira to Modin, thanked her for her hospitality, and left. He thought about the curious fact that dog owners had been such a help during the investigation. Perhaps these civilians were a resource that the police should make more use of in future. He drove much too fast and soon arrived at the place north of Sandhammaren that Hansson had described. He had stopped at the station on the way to pick up his gun.
It was raining again. Martinsson had arrived a few minutes before Wallander. There were officers there in full protective gear, as well as several dog units. The man they were closing in on was in a small pocket of forest bordered on one side by the road to Skillinge and by open fields on the other. Although Hansson had been effective in mobilising police into the area, Wallander could see at once that the man had a good chance of escape. While they were discussing their plan of advance, a message came in on Hansson's radio. A police patrol to the north thought they had seen the suspect. The radio contact broke off. In the distance came the sound of a shot followed closely by a second, and from Hansson's radio came very clearly: "The fucker's shooting at us." Then silence.
Wallander feared the worst. Martinsson seemed to have disappeared. It took him and Hansson six minutes to get to where the radio transmission had come from. When they saw the patrol car with its lights on they readied their weapons and got out of their own vehicle. The silence was deafening. Wallander shouted out to the others, and to his and Hansson's great relief there was an answer. They ran, bent double, to the patrol car and found two policemen there, scared out of their wits. One of them was El Sayed, the other Elofsson. The man who had shot at them appeared to be in a clump of trees on the other side of the road. They had been standing next to the car when they heard the sound of breaking twigs. Elofsson had directed his flashlight towards the trees while El Sayed had established radio contact with Hansson. Then came the shots.
"What's on the other side of those trees?" Wallander said.
"There's a path down to the sea," Elofsson said.
"Are there any houses there?" No-one knew. "We'll try to surround him," Wallander said. "Now that we have a pretty good idea where he is."
Hansson managed to locate Martinsson and told him their position. Meanwhile, Wallander dispatched Elofsson and El Sayed deeper into cover. All the time he expected the gunman to turn up alongside the car with his gun cocked.
"What about a helicopter?" Martinsson said, when he had joined them.
"Good idea. Make sure it has strong spotlights. But don't let it get here until all of us are in place."
Martinsson turned to his radio and Wallander studied the terrain. Since it was dark he couldn't really see anything, and since the wind had picked up it was impossible for him to determine if the sounds he heard were real or imagined.
Martinsson crept over to him. "A helicopter is on its way."
Wallander had no time to answer. At that moment another shot went off. They steeled themselves.
The shot had come somewhere from the left. Wallander had no idea who the intended target was. He called out to Elofsson and El Sayed called back. Then he also heard Elfosson's voice. Wallander knew he had to do something. He called out into the darkness.
"Police! Put down your weapon!"
Then he repeated the phrase in English.
There was no answer, only the wind.
"I don't like this," Martinsson whispered. "Why is he still there shooting at us? Why doesn't he leave? He must assume that there are reinforcements on the way."
