“Maybe I should blame poor oversight. But in actuality, it wasn’t the least bit poor.”

“What are you saying? You mean that other people were aware of these illegal activities and let them continue? I don’t believe you.”

“You can believe whatever you want. Not everything is as simple in this world as you seem to believe. Not everything is black or white.”

“Explain it to me, then!”

Her father raked his hand through his hair so hard that his eyes narrowed. “The explanation is called Anders Wester.”

Jana bit her lip. “I should have known...” she said. “Anders Wester. He was here with you on Saturday.”

Karl let his hands slowly sink down.

Jana took a step forward, not taking her eyes off his hands.

“When I was here to see Mother,” she continued, “I saw Anders’s shoes.” Not giving him time to answer, she continued, “So how did the three of you meet? Anders, Gavril and you?”

“How do you think people in positions of increasing power meet?”

“That’s what I’m asking.”

“Anders and Gavril met when they were doing their compulsory military service in Södertälje. I came in long after, in the early eighties.”

“That much I understood from reading the contents of the binders. You’ve seen to it that Gavril dominated the narcotics trade since the late eighties, that he avoided prosecution.”

“Gavril wanted to have me on his side. So that’s what he arranged. But he’s gone now.”

“And when he disappeared from the market, you stepped into his place. You became The Old Man. The mysterious man that no one has met, that no one can identify in the slightest.”

Her father shrugged his shoulders.

“You can’t influence what people choose to say behind your back. But you can influence rumors.”

“Why you and not Anders?”

“Society needs a hero. Anders likes the public eye.”

“And you don’t?”

“I’ve begun to see the end of my career. He hasn’t.”

Jana fell silent and looked at her father, met his gaze. “If you knew who I was the whole time, why did you choose to adopt me?”

“There was no other alternative. Or, I should say, the alternative was to remove you. We couldn’t just let a little nine-year-old go. You were a difficult child. You knew too much and you ran away. Do you remember that?”

“I remember being taken care of by social services. They told me I was in a train accident and that was why I didn’t know my name. So you adopted me to protect the operation?” Jana said in disbelief.

“Don’t take it so hard.”

“How else should I take it, then?”

He avoided her gaze.

“And the containers...?” she said, feeling herself beginning to tremble with rage, frustration.