“But I didn’t, I—”
“I believe that you’re convinced you didn’t. But we both know the state your mind is in, and who knows—maybe you suppressed your part in the whole thing just like you’ve suppressed the part I play in your life.”
Everything inside me balks at this theory. It’s wrong, it has to be. The images on TV left me devastated; I wouldn’t have felt like that if I had been involved in the attack in any way. Or if I’d known about it.
Except … What did I really know for sure?
“If you think I’m one of the maniacs that caused this, then report me.”
In spite of my inner turmoil, my voice sounds completely calm. “I’m serious. Do it, maybe that will give us some clarity. Tell them about me attacking you with the knife, about the car that pushed you off the road, and about the fact that your boss wanted you to be at the station at that exact moment, tell them whatever you think is relevant. I’ll admit to everything I can remember.”
He leans over, his head in his hands. When he looks up again, he appears more lost than ever before. “I can’t.” There’s no strength left in his voice. “Do you know what they would do to you, Jo? Not just the police, the media too—do you know how quickly they’d come up with the idea that you used your money to support terrorist organizations and God knows what else?” He clears his throat, coughs, shakes his head again. “You would immediately be the face of the attack. The billionaire terrorist from Australia.” When he looks at me again, his expression is softer than before. “If I knew for sure that you were involved, then I wouldn’t hesitate for a second. But like this … I can’t. You’re—”
My phone rings, cutting him off midsentence. It’s not one of the ringtones I’ve assigned to the people I know. I glance at the display. Anonymous.
“Don’t you want to answer it?”
I shake my head. “There’s no way it can be as important as our conversation.”
“Ah.” The hint of a smile flickers over Erik’s face. “If you’d like some privacy I can go out of the room.”
At the moment I realize what he’s implying, the ringing stops. “You think that it’s my accomplices, right? That they want us to get together and drink to our fireworks show?”
“I didn’t say that. I just think it’s interesting that you—”
Again, the phone rings. Again, it’s an anonymous caller. This time I don’t hesitate for a second, I pick up and turn on the loudspeaker.
“Yes?” I sound harried, nervous.
All I can hear from the other end at first is loud breathing. Then a tense voice. “Joanna? Is that Joanna?” A man.
Erik’s eyes have widened; he silently mouths a word that I can’t make out.
“Yes. Who am I talking to?”
“Are you alone?”
I should say no, that I have lots of friends around me, but my instinct tells me that the man would hang up.
“Yes. Now will you tell me who this is?”
“This is … Bernhard. I’m a colleague of Erik’s; we met briefly about a week ago.”
The visitor with the computer bag. “Yes, I remember. Where did you get my number?”
“It doesn’t matter. Just tell me … Have you heard from Erik? Do you know if he’s OK?”
I look up, see Erik shake his head decisively, and realize there’s an enormous opportunity offering itself up here for him.
“No.” I try to inject as much despair as I can into my voice. It’s surprising how easy it is. “I can’t get hold of him, even though I’ve been trying for hours, again and again.”
“So it’s true.” Bernhard too sounds as though he’s struggling to hold back tears. “I didn’t want this to happen, please believe me! I didn’t know what would happen, not exactly. They lied to me.”
“Who? Who lied to you?” There’s no way I can let Bernhard end the conversation now.
Silence.
Is he still there? If I scared him off now with my stupid, overly direct question, then I also blew the first real shot at shining a little light into the darkness surrounding us.
But he is still there. A little more composed than before. “That doesn’t matter anymore. It’s too late for Erik, but not for you, Joanna. You have to disappear, as quickly as you can. Please believe me. This isn’t a joke, you have to get yourself to safety.”
Cold fear grips my insides, quicker than my mind is able to wrap itself around what he’s saying. “But—who wants to hurt me? And why?”
Silence again, I hastily glance over at Eric, who is visibly trying to stay calm. To not give himself away.
“Tell me what’s going on!” I can’t stop my voice from breaking. “Please.”
Bernhard doesn’t answer again, but I can hear that the place he’s calling from has changed. Street noises, a car horn, and, in the distance, an emergency vehicle going past with its sirens on.
“It’s too complicated, I don’t have much time. The part you’re playing in everything that happened is too big for them to simply leave you in peace.” A dull thud, like a car door being slammed shut. “All the information you want is available, and if you stay alive long enough you’ll get it too, but for now you just have to believe me. Get yourself to safety, otherwise you’ll soon be dead, just like Erik.”
32
I can see that Joanna’s struggling to keep her composure as she puts the phone aside, her hands trembling. At the same time, I’m trying to take in what I just heard Bernhard say.
“What … does he mean by that?”
How the hell am I supposed to know, I think. “You’re asking me?”
“He said I play a big part in it. I know how that must sound to you right now, but I have no idea what he was talking about. You have to believe me.” Joanna wipes her face with a jittery hand. “I really don’t know.”
I listen to my gut and realize that my common sense is working again, in spite of this ever more ludicrous situation. Or maybe because of it. Either Bernhard and Joanna are in cahoots with Gabor and this phone call was some madcap attempt to convince me of their innocence, or Joanna’s really in great danger. I stare at her intently. “Where did Bernhard get your number?”
She shrugs her shoulder and shakes her head in exasperation. “I don’t have a clue.”
After spending a few moments thinking about what has just happened, I finally nod. “All right. I believe you.”
She seems surprised. “You believe me? Why now of all times, just after that phone call? I thought now you’d have even less reason to—”
“If you’d arranged the whole thing, you would have had an explanation for how Bernhard knows your number.”
She raises her eyebrows, making wrinkles appear on her forehead.
“That’s why you believe me all of a sudden?”
Yes, I think, and probably also because I want to believe you. Despite everything.
“Bernhard said you were in danger,” I say, ignoring her question. “So he knows what’s behind all this insanity.”