369While Toni, Sasha and I were making our separate ways to Walter’s headquarters, Stanislav took Möller in his car to a remote truck stop in a very quiet industrial estate. Having parked behind an HGV with Polish plates, Stanislav asked Möller to handcuff himself to his steering wheel.

Since Möller was a little stubborn and Stanislav a little annoyed, this led to a brief tussle in which Möller broke his left thumb, left index finger and one metacarpal.

Once Möller realised that Stanislav had not only more intact bones but also at least one more gun than him, the policeman finally complied. To his great amazement, the loading doors of the Polish lorry then opened, revealing a large compartment with an SUV in the back. Two of Stanislav’s employees attached two ramps to the HGV, pushed Möller and his vehicle in, strapped it in properly and closed the doors again.

Sasha and I arrived at the sunny car park of Walter’s company at the same time. Toni’s car was already there, right in front of the entrance. We waited another five minutes before walking into Walter’s ground-floor message centre – the room where all the data from his patrols, property surveillance and in-house CCTV converged.

Behind a control panel, Walter stood with one of his 370operators – a smart, muscly guy with three-day stubble and rimless glasses – and looked at a screen showing the basement interrogation room.

We could see Malte lying apparently unconscious on a sofa and Toni checking to see if the interrogation camera was off. The moron didn’t even notice the ceiling cameras through which we were watching him. And he obviously also didn’t realise that since there were intercom speakers, the room must be outfitted with microphones too.

‘When did he get here?’ I asked Walter.

‘Arrived ten minutes before you did. Made a beastly fuss about why he hadn’t been immediately informed about the “prisoner”. I made it clear to him that we didn’t have any prisoner, just some bloke our patrol watched as he followed you around for an entire day. I told him that when the patrol spoke to the guy, he pulled out a gun, which was then kicked out of his hand. Unfortunately, our guard couldn’t stop her foot before it hit the guy’s chin. The guy’s been unconscious ever since and would probably have a headache, but he’s just coming to.’

‘And?’ Sasha asked. ‘Did Toni swallow that?’

‘Absolutely. He instantly starting shouting up a storm. Reminded me, in front of my people, that Dragan had only entrusted him with any interrogation. Three times he asked whether the guy had said anything yet, then he rushed downstairs.’

Which is where we were seeing him.

Toni examined Malte, then he slapped him. Nothing happened. The fact that Malte was unconscious was 371primarily due to the fact that Walter had roofied him. Now Toni took a closer look at Malte’s swollen blue chin, which had even burst in one spot.

‘How’d you manage that?’ I asked with interest. ‘He really does look like he got kicked in the chin.’

‘He got kicked in the chin,’ Walter explained.

‘But …?’ I looked up in surprise.

‘After the roofies had started to work, he was on the floor anyway. He was right there. It was more like … a floppy little free kick.’

‘Was that really necessary?’

‘We could’ve also sent in a make-up artist, sure. But nothing looks more like a kick in the chin than a kick in the chin. Also, faster and cheaper than a make-up artist. And look at it this way: it’s not like the guy felt any of it. He was already knocked out.’

‘Right, right. A pragmatic approach, Dragan will appreciate that.’

Everyone in the room was now anxiously waiting to see how Toni would react. We were sure Toni wanted to eliminate Malte as a witness. That was the basis of Dragan’s plan – meaning mine. We disagreed, however, on how we thought Toni would take him out. I was of the opinion that Toni would just kill Malte on the spot. Walter was of the opinion that Toni would first torture the guy to find out if he had said anything. And Sasha was betting that Toni would torture Malte to death at once, regardless of whether he’d actually say anything.

Each of us bet 50 euros.372

After my positive experiences with intentional centring and overcoming internal resistance, I had no major issues with the fact that someone was about to die. After all, it would be the desired result of my mindful considerations. So I wasn’t experiencing any unresolved emotions. I was, however, feeling a certain tension about how exactly Malte would be killed. Though too minor to try to breathe away in front of all these people, the tension was pronounced enough to affect my well-being. I remembered another one of Breitner’s relaxation exercises. He called it the ‘Inner Smile’.

There are muscles in your body that, when activated, effortlessly facilitate a state of mindful relaxation. These muscles are the ones you use to smile. Please take a moment to smile, just to yourself. Track how your smile moves across your face. Feel how activating the muscles around your mouth automatically releases tension around your neck. Now feel this relaxation ripple through your body as your smile spreads through your entire body.

So smile to yourself as often as you can.

In order to quickly and effectively release the tension I was feeling, I started smiling to myself. And I hadn’t started my little exercise a moment too early.

We watched Toni lean over Malte and feel his pulse. He then pulled Malte off the sofa onto the floor. Then he turned away, and for a moment it looked like he was about to leave. But then, out of nowhere, Toni turned back 373around, swung out his right steel-toe-clad foot and kicked the unconscious man in the head with full force. After that, Malte’s head was at such an unnatural angle there was no doubt his neck was broken; the man was dead.

Walter, Sasha and the operator shrank back in shock and looked away in disgust. Due to my ‘Inner Smile’ exercise, however, I had reached the utmost serenity and was able to follow the events on screen unfazed. When Walter and Sasha saw that I was just smiling in a situation even they found disgusting, they probably drew some conclusions that were fundamentally false. They didn’t understand I could only endure the sight because I was smiling. Still, the misunderstanding didn’t hurt my growing reputation as a leader. I wasn’t just the brilliant strategist who could make the police believe Dragan was dead; I even smiled in the face of death. Another element in my favour was the fact that my prediction had been correct: Toni had taken Malte out immediately, without any torture or fuss.

Without a word, Walter and Sasha each gave me 50 euros.

We watched Toni feel Malte’s pulse again. He no longer seemed to have any. Toni hoisted Malte back onto the sofa and positioned him exactly as he’d found him. But when he wanted to leave, he found the door was locked.

This was the moment I’d been waiting for. I pressed the intercom button and lowered my vocal register two notches.

‘Hello, Toni.’

Toni flinched.

‘My, aren’t you a jumpy little bunny?’374

‘Who’s there?’

‘I wear many faces. Maybe I’m Malte, a little pissed off you just killed me? Or maybe I’m Murat, who you had shot by Malte? Or Dragan, who you wanted to kill too?’

‘What is this shite?’

I assumed my normal voice again.

‘OK, Toni, let’s cut this shite. I’m just the guy whose daughter you happened to threaten because you wanted to see Dragan. Which is why I won’t take you to Dragan, but to someone who’s much more eager to see you.’

Toni started kicking the steel door with all his might. The door remained utterly unimpressed.

‘You lawyer twat, open the door right now or I’ll fucking end you.’

‘Hello, Toni,’ said Walter. ‘Now, I never got my A levels or anything … so I just thought I’d ask: how exactly are you going to kill Björn with the door shut?’

‘I’d also love to know,’ added Sasha.

‘Get me out of here! That guy is screwing with you. Dragan is dead.’

‘OK …’ Walter said, ‘but wait a minute: if Dragan is dead, why did he tell us to send you into this hiddencamera trap?’

‘You were filming me?’

‘We were,’ Sasha contributed. ‘Just like we filmed Malte’s confession.’

‘And let me just say,’ I just said, ‘Dragan was not amused.’

‘Open the door right now, arsehole, I’ll end you! I’ll break your f—’375

I turned off the intercom. I had him exactly where I wanted him. For someone like Toni, who solved every problem by force, it must be awful to be helplessly stuck in a room with a guy who was already dead while no one outside paid him any mind. It would be exceptional agony not to be battled but ignored.

We would leave Toni in that basement’s total silence the entire weekend. Along with Malte, who, due to Toni’s violent outburst, was no longer much of a conversationalist. On Sunday night, Malte would be disposed of in the waste-to-energy facility per the usual method – Sunday was supposedly the best day for this, Sasha had explained to me. Life really was a never-ending learning journey. Toni, meanwhile, we would take to Boris on Monday. In short, we were on schedule.

When we walked out to the car park, Walter took me aside.

‘Listen, Björn. It’s none of my business, but …’ he dithered.

‘Just tell me, what’s up?’

‘Well, it’s about Dragan and these newspaper pages.’

Despite the sun still shining overhead, I felt a sudden chill. What the devil had Walter found out now?

‘What about them?’

‘I don’t mean to tell you your business …’

‘Just say it.’

‘Well … my people have been following you for a few days now. And it’s quite clear that there’s only one place you go and pick something up every day.’376

‘And where is that?’

‘McDonald’s.’

I was beyond stunned. I had no idea where this was going. ‘What are you trying to say?’

‘Well, if even my people have gathered that Dragan can only get you his messages at McDonald’s, then the police can too. Maybe you should try to find a more subtle strategy …’

I stopped short. The fact that I’d been to McDonald’s to buy a newspaper every day that week was suddenly yet more proof that Dragan was alive.

I smiled to myself, just because. Because I actually felt like smiling.