‘Can you tell me about life at the embassy,’ Yassim says. ‘I want to hear something that’s not war or misery.’

22 November

Stockholm

Every heartbeat feels like a tiny explosion, every single beat seems like more than enough to draw their attention, Klara thinks, huddled in the foetal position beneath the cover. She holds her breath as the legs of the police officer brush against the cover that forms her only defence. He’s unbearably close to her.

Then she hears more steps enter the courtyard. A breathless voice. ‘Berg!’

A woman’s voice. The other officer.

‘Witnesses say she disappeared to the left up Svartman- gatan.’

‘Svartmangatan?’ Berg answers. ‘I could swear that I saw her sneak in here.’

‘Well, she’s not here,’ the woman replies impatiently. ‘We’ll lose her if we waste any more time.’

‘But you can’t trust eyewitnesses,’ he mutters. ‘I know what I saw.’ He runs a hand over the cover.

‘Forget it,’ the woman says impatiently. ‘If she was the one driving, I don’t know why they didn’t take her in immediately during the crackdown.’

The bike shakes as Berg accidentally hits it with his hip. ‘Oh, damn!’ he mutters.

‘We don’t even know if she’s got anything to do with this,’ the woman continues.

‘But you know how it is,’ Berg says. ‘You don’t run if you’ve got nothing to hide.’

‘That’s not our problem right now anyway,’ the woman says. ‘They want us back at our post. Anttila is covering for us now, but he goes off duty in three minutes.’

The man sighs. ‘A terrorism crackdown on a law firm, and we decide to leave loose ends. Fucking amateur hour.’

‘Save it for the break room,’ the woman sighs, exhausted. ‘No one else wants to hear it.’

Their boots crunch across the snow that covers the inner courtyard as they slowly head out through the archway onto Österlånggatan again.

*

Klara stays there until she loses all track of time and starts to shake violently from the cold. Finally, she slowly gets up on her hands and knees. She’s lost all feeling in her fingers and struggles to take off the cover so she can stumble out of the cargo bike.

Terrorism crackdown. The words echo in her head.

Has Gabriella been arrested in a terrorism crackdown?

Klara remembers the phone call last night, the one she heard from outside Gabriella’s door. She was going to meet someone in Brussels. A little sceptical, but still willing to fly to Brussels. After the terrible slaughter at the Bataclan in central Paris just a week ago, it feels like the whole world is on edge.

If this isn’t Bronzelius’s way of making good on his threat, then it must be a huge misunderstanding. What else could it be?