Too obvious. Jacobsén was smarter than that. It could be anything, of course, a random string of numbers and upper- and lower-case letters. In a way, randomness was an impenetrable wall. But Jacobsén seemed too structured and controlled to let randomness rule him. On the contrary, he’d talked quite a bit during their drive about the importance of seizing control and being in charge of your own life.

Christofer1492.

He considered it. That could absolutely be the password, but it could also be something else entirely. He did feel fairly certain about three things. If any of the letters was upper case, it would be the first one; if there were numbers, they would be at the end. That was almost always the way of it when people made their own passwords. He also felt convinced it would be connected to Columbus one way or another.

Incorrect password

Jacobsén had proudly told him about when he first started the company and no one had believed in him. Maybe he viewed that as the kind of conquest Columbus made in 1492. As the point when he seized the tiller of his life and started charting his own course.

Christofer2001.

Incorrect password

But when he thought about it, the company might not be the most life-changing part of Jacobsén’s life. Money, success and above all the opportunity to ogle women he didn’t know, absolutely. But the most pivotal event should have been when he became Columbus. According to the woman at the swingers’ club, the rumours about him had started circulating about two years earlier.

Christofer2010.

The screen went dark for a few seconds and then lit up again, showing a desktop picture of an oil painting of three ships on the open sea. He immediately realized they must be Columbus’s ships, the Niña, the Pinta and the Santa María.

He was in.

68

Assar Skanås pulled the cloth bundle out of his backpack, unrolled it on the table next to the little girl and made sure the tools were all neatly ordered and within easy reach. There were pruning shears, two kitchen knives of different sizes, an awl, a hatchet, a hammer and a hacksaw. Lined up like that, they looked scary, they did, and he didn’t really like them. But once he got to them, she wouldn’t be feeling anything anyway.

He looked out of the window, down at the people scurrying about like crazed ants far below him. No one even seemed to have time to stop and look at the police cars with the flashing blue lights that were pulling up in the middle of the square.

What if they were looking for him? Could that really be the case? No, it must be someone else. Either way, they wouldn’t find him. Ever. He didn’t need to worry. Not even one bit, actually.