“If you can get him to mention Perry’s name himself, that would be ideal. What we have is enough to derail Ed, but he has powerful supporters, so something more demonstrative from Karasek would be useful. However, don’t chase to the extent where you’ll risk the other objectives.”
Finn nodded, and the car pulled up at the end of his street. He walked back to the apartment and found Sofi waiting for him just inside, her coat still on. He smiled, once more offering reassurance.
“They were following me, so you don’t need to worry.”
“She told you that?”
“Yes, and everything else is fine.”
She started to undo the buttons on her coat, and he did the same. He couldn’t understand why she’d suddenly become so apprehensive, and wondered if perhaps she was getting it from him, if the tension of everything that had happened these last few weeks was affecting his behavior, making her nervous.
And then, unexpectedly, his mind skipped back to something Louisa had said.
“How old is your mother?”
“Fifty-six. Why?”
He shook his head. “I don’t know—I was thinking about it today. I thought she was younger.”
Louisa knew how old Sofi’s mother was. Why would she know that? Why would she want to know? That was the question troubling Finn. Not how she knew—that hardly deserved consideration—but why she knew, because Louisa did nothing and said nothing without a reason.
Chapter Nineteen
As soon as they got into the taxi, Hailey slid down in the seat and looked out of the window. He imagined she was committing the snowy city to her memory, dwelling on the last few days, but he realized after a short while that she’d fallen asleep. She woke only as they reached Arlanda.
They got out of the taxi, and he picked up her backpack and threw it over his shoulder.
She walked alongside him and said, “So we’re friends now?” He looked at her. “You’re carrying my backpack.”
He nodded. “That was a little childish of me, not to carry it earlier. But I reserve the right to be childish again.”
She smiled and they walked to check-in, but before he’d handed over the backpack Hailey said, “Wait there.” She rooted in one of the side pockets, and took out a red memory stick and handed it to him. “Just in case they lose my bag.”
“Thanks.”
As they walked away from the desk she said, “You still have to tell me why you wanted it—the USB stick.”
“And I will. But first let’s find a phone box.”
“Don’t you have a cell?”
“I do. That’s also part of the USB story.”
She accepted that, and remained silent as he found a phone and made a call, a look of dismay freezing on her face only as the call was answered and he said, “Hi Debbie, it’s Finn.”
“Oh, thank God, Finn. Please, tell me—”
“I’ve found her, Debbie. She’s fine and we’re here at the airport. I’ll put her on in a second.”
Hailey stared at him open-mouthed, and gestured wildly with her arms to say she didn’t want to speak to them.
Debbie said, “You’re at Geneva Airport?”
“No—Arlanda. And listen, Debbie, there were no seats left for a Geneva flight today, so we’re flying to Paris. We’ll stay with Mathieu tonight, and get the train to Lausanne first thing tomorrow.”
There was a pause, and then she said, “Oh, okay. I can hardly deny you that, I guess.”
She’d also read him too well, but he said, “Debbie, it was either that or stay in Uppsala another night, which I didn’t think would be a good idea. Anyway, this might be good—it’ll give time for the dust to settle.”
He was overusing that phrase. He wanted to write a note to himself, a reminder not to use it in the new book.
“Finn, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to imply . . . and yes, you’re right, staying in Sweden wouldn’t have been a good idea. But she’s okay?”
“She’s fine. I’ll put her on now and we’ll call again from Paris.”
He didn’t even wait for Debbie to reply, and despite giving him a look of consternation—an expression that asked him if he’d understood nothing of what she’d been trying to say to him—Hailey took the phone, breathed deeply, and held it to her ear.
“Hi, Mom.”
He backed away, strolling some distance before turning to look at her again. She spoke for ten minutes or so, and stood for a minute longer after she’d put the phone down. Finally, she turned and scanned the people coming and going until she saw him.
She mustered a smile and raised her hand in a wave. He raised his hand in response. She’d been crying again, of course, and as if talking to her parents had robbed her of her newfound maturity, she looked small and vulnerable standing there.
He walked over and said, “Okay?”
She nodded, biting her lip.
“Let’s head to the business lounge then.”
They walked together in silence, and sat for a few minutes in the lounge without talking, either. She still looked fragile, only just holding it together as she processed the conversation with her parents, but he sensed she didn’t want to discuss it now, not with him, anyway.