‘Are you okay, Dad?’ he had said.
And Alex had replied, ‘Everything’s fine.’
And that was the end of that. Erik had left his father alone with his grief. The distance between them had never seemed greater.
We can’t reach one another, Erik had thought. Not even now.
Claudia had been unimpressed when Erik told her what had happened. The responsibility was Erik’s, she had said. If Alex was crying, then it was up to Erik to console him. You couldn’t just leave an old man in such a state.
Old.
That was what she had said, and that was how Alex could be perceived. Old and tired. However, the ageing process had been slowed down somewhat by Diana, who was so dynamic and attractive that Erik couldn’t for the life of him understand what she saw in his father.
Perhaps she liked his air of authority, because he certainly had that in spades. Sitting next to Karim on the plane, Erik wished he had just a fraction of his father’s impressive presence. He felt small in comparison to Karim, not just in physical terms but also when it came to power.
Karim had the upper hand. In every way. And Erik didn’t really understand where that impression came from. It wasn’t just that Karim was the captain, and thus ultimately responsible for what happened to the plane; Erik had a nasty feeling that Karim also had additional information, that he knew better than anyone how this flight was going to end.
The police had called them again, as had the airline. Karim refused to listen to either of them. He was going to follow the hijackers’ instructions, and that was that. But then they were contacted by the US authorities, and this time he did listen. They were ordered to remain outside US airspace until further notice, and Karim agreed. At least for the time being.
‘What do we do when we reach New York?’ Erik asked.
Karim didn’t look at him when he answered. ‘Let’s hope the Swedish and US governments have met the hijackers’ demands by then so that we can land.’
Erik suddenly found it difficult to breathe. ‘In that case, we won’t be following their rules,’ he said.
Karim glanced at him. ‘What do you mean?’
‘According to the hijackers, the two governments have the same amount of time to act as it will take us to use up our fuel. And that’s longer than it will take for us to reach our destination.’
Karim looked almost relieved. ‘Oh, I see. I’ve already thought of that. When I’m approaching Washington, I’ll start circling until we run out of time. Then I’ll request permission to land, as long as they’ve met the hijackers’ demands.’
Erik’s heart started racing. ‘New York,’ he said.
‘What?’
‘You said Washington. But we’re on our way to New York.’
The air was so thick in the cockpit now that it was almost impossible to breathe.
‘Sorry, my mistake,’ Karim said. ‘I meant New York.’
No, you didn’t.
Tiny, glistening beads of sweat broke out on Karim’s forehead.
Erik’s voice was hoarse with tension.
‘For fuck’s sake, Karim, we have to be able to talk to one another. What the hell is going on here?’
Karim fell silent once more, and Erik just wanted to punch him.
‘I’m not having this,’ he said. ‘I don’t know what the fuck you’re playing at, but let me make one thing perfectly clear: I will not allow you to jeopardise the safety of our passengers.’
Erik got to his feet; a glance at Karim revealed that he had not reacted to Erik’s outburst. Had he even been listening?
Erik quickly moved over to the cockpit door and grabbed the handle. He would call his father and ask his advice. Then he would get Karim out of the way and land the bloody plane himself.
Just as he was about to open the door, he looked over at Karim again. He was staring at the blue sky ahead, as straight as a fir tree. Suddenly, Erik knew that he was just waiting for Erik to step out of the cockpit.
If I leave now, he’s not going to let me back in.
Slowly, Erik returned to his seat.
‘I thought you were going somewhere?’ Karim said.
‘I’ve changed my mind.’
If Karim was disappointed, he didn’t show it. A short while later, he decided that the passengers must be informed of the expected delay. His tone was firm as he explained to them that because of exceptionally bad weather in New York, the flight would be significantly delayed. There was no need for anyone to worry, because there was plenty of fuel on board, and the crew would do everything they could to make sure that their journey was as comfortable as possible.
Erik hoped the passengers would accept Karim’s explanation and remain calm. They didn’t have time for any kind of trouble.
After Karim’s announcement, silence once more descended on the cockpit.
One word lingered in Erik’s mind: Washington.
37 STOCKHOLM, 18:01
This day’s work would never end. The realisation came as a blow. Fredrika had no intention of going home until the hijacking was resolved one way or another. Spencer called her just after six.
‘How are you doing?’ he asked.
‘Fine, but I won’t be home for dinner. We can have an Indian another time.’
Then they talked about the children, what they should have for tea, what they should wear the following day.
How did my life turn out like this? Fredrik wondered. How did I go from a career woman with a secret lover to a married woman with two children?
Spencer’s transformation was almost as dramatic: from a married, childless professor in his sixties to a remarried father of two. And yet, Fredrika had never once doubted that he would cope, or worried that he might leave her. Their relationship was as clear as if it were etched in stone. He was hers and she was his.
And that made her feel safe.
Safe. When had she ever felt safe before?
Her thoughts turned to the passengers on Flight 573. She presumed they had been informed of the delay by now. She hoped the crew would be able to continue to maintain calm and order; it didn’t bear thinking about what could happen if chaos broke out. A scenario in which the passengers panicked and ran amok would be both dangerous and difficult to deal with.
The plane was now uncomfortably close to the US border. And anything could happen there. The Americans were noticeably stressed and seeing ghosts. She hoped Karim wouldn’t decide to defy them.
Fredrika rubbed her hands together. There were so many dimensions to the hijacking, so many sidetracks, that she felt exhausted.
First of all, there was a North African asylum seeker who was due to be deported from Sweden, because Säpo had decided that he constituted a threat to national security.
Secondly, there was a secret US detention facility in Afghanistan.
And thirdly there was a man who had followed his childhood dream and become a pilot, and was now regarded as a terrorist holding hundreds of people to ransom.
The question was how these three elements hung together, because in Fredrika’s mind these widely differing strands must have come from the same source. Her boss had called just a few minutes earlier and asked her to produce a written summary of all the information that had come to light so far, and to send it by courier to the government offices.
Fredrika wrote down her conclusions.
They still hadn’t managed to link Zakaria Khelifi to Tennyson Cottage. It was of course possible that there was no connection, but in that case they must at least have a perpetrator who could be linked to both. Many people felt that Karim could be that perpetrator, and Fredrika was one of them. However, she couldn’t believe that he had done this on his own.
What evidence did they have against Karim? A photograph of him and Zakaria Khelifi. A book by Alfred Lord Tennyson in which the photograph had been hidden. And fingerprints on one of the phones that had been used to make bomb threats aimed at various targets in inner city Stockholm. The same phone had also been in contact with Karim’s private mobile.