The Other Son (11 page)

She looked up the number of the school, and reached an automated menu that asked her to press a button to be put through to the right place. She pressed the first option, which turned out to be the principal's office. It rang a few times, then the call was cut off. She phoned those of Albert's friends whose numbers she had in her cell. She called Anna. She sounded calm, friendly. No one knew where he was.

Sophie got hold
of a taxi and jumped into the backseat. Gave the driver the address of Albert's school. She felt horribly frightened. The outside world looked sharp, as if all the angles were wrong.

She prayed to God that they didn't get stuck in traffic. She should have prayed to God about Albert as well, but she didn't dare. It was as if her prayer would make the situation more real, more dangerous. It already was, of course, but she was unable to handle that.

Koen de Graaf had followed her back to her apartment from Arlanda. And he had waited until she emerged again. She was in a hurry, with a suitcase in her hand. News of the murdered couple had already reached her.

Now he followed her taxi as it wove through the city traffic, heading south. She would lead him right where he wanted to go.

Albert's school was on Södermalm.

Sophie pulled the heavy door open, and was met by the smell of school: pencils, linoleum, stone, and something elusive that was found only in academic buildings. She hurried through the corridor, past the classrooms, windows in their doors, all the rooms empty, no one in sight anywhere. It was late in the afternoon, perhaps all the lessons were over?

She stopped to catch her breath and listened. The silence echoed emptily. Sophie tried to make out any sound at all. Far away in a muffled universe, she heard slippery sounds, a hint of voices shouting. A gymnasium.

Sophie headed down
the main staircase and made her way along a long passageway toward two large doors. She threw them open.

A group of youngsters was playing basketball in half of the hall, while a few more sat on the stand. Toward the other end of the hall Albert was practicing throwing a ball at a hoop in his wheelchair while a friend caught the ball and gave it back to him.

She walked around the free-throw line, smiling with relief at Albert's friend, Marcus.

Albert looked at her in surprise, and Sophie did her best to maintain her smile.

“Are you ready?” she asked softly.

“Ready for what?”

“Ready to set off first thing tomorrow morning?”

Albert looked at her curiously.

“Where are you going?” Marcus asked, standing there clutching the basketball to his chest.

“Rehabilitation,” Sophie said.

Marcus looked thoughtful.

“We've got a few things to sort out, are you ready?” she asked.

Albert was avoiding her gaze.

“See you,” Albert said, and pushed himself away from Marcus.

“How long are you going to be gone?”

“Three weeks,” Sophie interjected.

Leszek drove up
outside the school, braked sharply, got out, and quickly helped Albert into the car with a practiced hand, then put the wheelchair in the back. They drove off fast.

Sophie and Leszek talked quickly in low voices, what were the arrangements, was everyone safe, then details—cell phones, computers, other traceable items. Albert asked questions from the backseat, his voice loud, but they didn't get through; no one was listening to him. They just carried on working through everything between them in a very focused, concentrated way.

“What's going on?” Albert shouted.

Leszek and Sophie went on talking.

“Mom!” He was yelling now. They stopped talking. She turned around.

“We have to go into hiding,” she said.

“Why?”

“We just do.”

“Mom?”

A pleading look in his eyes.

“Two people have been killed.”

He tried to make sense of what she'd just said. “What?”

She didn't answer.

Albert looked down, struggling with all the questions that came into his mind. “Who?”

She remained silent. Leszek took over.

“Daphne and Thierry,” he said.

“There's nothing for you to worry about, Albert,” she said in a feeble attempt to sound calm.

“How can you say that?” he asked bitterly.

Then he turned his head away.

Sophie was struck by a flash of realization. What the hell was she trying to do, acting as the protective mother?

She turned back toward Albert.

“I'm sorry, Albert,” she said. “I'm not thinking straight at the moment. This is serious, we need to go into hiding. There's a secure apartment waiting for us. That's where we're heading now.”

He looked at her.

“OK,” he said quietly.

Behind the wheel of the Mazda, Koen watched as their car stopped halfway along Norr Mälarstrand. Sophie got out, Leszek got the wheelchair out of the trunk of the car and quickly unfolded it and helped Albert in. They headed toward a door, Leszek tapped in a code, and they disappeared into the building.

Koen made a note of the address on his phone and sent it to Roland. This was going really well. Roland and Ralph would be pleased.

Now there was just old Ernst left….

They remained silent in the elevator as it carried them to the top floor. Leszek opened his jacket, drew a pistol from his shoulder holster, and let it hang down by his leg.

They reached the top floor. Leszek got out first, followed by Sophie and then Albert. He unlocked the door and looked inside, then held the door open for the others.

“It's OK,” he said, gesturing them inside.

Everyone was there. Leszek introduced Albert to Angela, Hasani, and the boys.

Sophie found a quiet place in the passageway between the kitchen and dining room. She crouched down and breathed through the sleeve of her sweater with her head bowed. Paralyzed with a despair that stopped any tears from coming, just a pain in her throat, a terrible pressure in her chest, and, beyond the physical, a sense of guilt, guilt, guilt. Daphne and Thierry dead…