Chapter 20

The police said they would get there as fast as they could. Sofia took pictures of the doors, then went outside to wait. She called Benjamin as she sat there. It felt good to hear his horrified gasp when she told him what had happened. Now he would understand that some things were more important than his sister’s boring party. But when he offered to come straight to Lund and stay the night, she said no. It would be so late by the time he got there, and she was still upset with him. She suspected they would just start fighting about that party, and she was exhausted after the day’s incidents – she felt hot and sick and wondered if she was coming down with something.

Her building was two storeys high and contained four apartments. She and Alma lived on the ground floor. She had never talked to the upstairs neighbours, having only run into them and said hello on the stairs a time or two. An older man with a dachshund and a younger couple lived up there. The couple seemed to hardly ever be home. But now the man with the dachshund popped up in the park in front of the building. The dog was tugging at its leash, making him stagger forward, his back bent. He stopped short when he saw her on the steps.

‘Everything okay?’

‘Yes. Or, well, no, someone came here and made a mess. Opened up the trash bags and spray-painted horrible words on my door and Alma’s. I called the police.’

The man’s forehead wrinkled in concern.

‘I saw the mess when I went by. I have sciatica, so I couldn’t bend down and pick up the trash. I thought someone else…’ he looked mildly ashamed.

‘It doesn’t matter. I took care of it,’ she said.

‘But there was nothing there when I went out shopping a few hours ago,’ he said, shaking his head.

It struck her that whoever had done this must have stood there in broad daylight, heaving the rubbish bags out of the dumpster and spraying those words on their doors despite the risk of being caught red-handed. It was frighteningly bold, almost desperate.

‘You haven’t seen anyone prowling around here?’ she asked the man.

He considered her question for a moment.

‘Actually, I did see someone. But he didn’t look suspicious. A young man, on his way down the stairs. I only saw his back. But he was wearing nice clothes, and it wasn’t Jonas from number four, I know what he looks like. Always wearing a hoodie and jeans and so forth. This man was wearing a suit.’

‘Please, can you stay and talk to the police?’

The man nodded, and just then the patrol car arrived.

The officer who stepped out gave Sofia an apologetic look and shook her head when he saw the words on the dumpster. She was short and muscular with black hair in a tight ponytail. Her eyes were light brown and her eyebrows formed two perfect arches over them. She had a ring in one nostril. An unusual sense of calm emanated from her. She put out her hand and introduced herself as Andrea Claesson.

‘I picked up the trash,’ Sofia said. ‘Maybe I shouldn’t have…’

‘It’s fine,’ said Andrea. She spoke first to the man with the dog, who now recalled that the stranger in the stairwell had had a backpack, and that it didn’t seem to match his fancy clothing. Otherwise, his description wasn’t much to go on. Short hair, average height, medium blond – it could have been anyone.

They headed into the stairwell. Andrea grimaced when she saw the words on the doors. Alma stuck her head out and they spoke to her for a while. She hadn’t heard or seen anything because the TV had been on, but she didn’t seem upset in the least about her door – if anything, she was exhilarated over the drama Sofia had brought to the otherwise quiet neighbourhood.

‘I hope you get them,’ she told the officer. ‘Sofia, you have to tell the officer all about that horrible cult. They must be behind this.’

Andrea and Sofia went to Sofia’s apartment and sat down at the kitchen table. Sofia bared it all, from the moment she had fled ViaTerra to the current day’s events. It was like pouring water from a bucket, because by the time she was finished she felt empty inside. She watched Andrea’s face transform as she listened. First there was a flicker of recognition in her eyes – she must have heard of ViaTerra – but then her expression became determined. When Sofia was done talking, Andrea stood up so quickly that her chair fell to the floor with a bang.

‘This is just awful. I am so sorry you haven’t been taken seriously. I promise we will help you deal with this.’

She handed Sofia her card.

‘Call me right away if anything else happens. Day or night.’

Sofia stood in the window, watching the patrol car turn onto the street and drive off. Loneliness crept in. She thought she saw something behind the dumpster. A long shadow reached across the parking lot. She opened the window and leaned out to see better. A loud noise made her recoil, and an empty can rolled across the asphalt, propelled by the breeze. The shadow was gone. She closed the window and double-checked that the apartment door was locked. Suddenly she was freezing. Her heart was pounding so hard that she could feel it in her jugular. She turned on the TV and pulled down the blinds, but she was so restless. To take the edge off her anxiety. She had a beer along with the sandwich she ate at the kitchen counter.

It was hard to fall asleep that night. She kept thinking she heard sounds outside, and she wished Benjamin were there. Why had she refused his offer to come?

Magnus Strid was supposed to arrive on the noon train the next day, so Sofia had taken the day off. She spent the morning buying paint and covering up the graffiti. Luckily, both the doors and the dumpster were grey, and it only took a few coats to make the insults disappear. She had just enough time to wash up and change clothes before it was time to meet Magnus’s train. She biked to the station at top speed.

Sofia saw him as soon as she stepped onto the platform. He was trudging towards her like a bear, loaded with bags and camera equipment, and he laughed when he spotted her.

‘Time to have some fun with that perfect ass Oswald!’

They gathered material for his article that afternoon: he photographed her at the library and at home and took notes as she told him everything that had happened. They went through all the material she’d gathered from Oswald’s trial, as well as copies of the hate mail and the pictures she’d taken of the doors and the dumpster. He gathered it all in a folder and helped her transfer the pictures to his laptop.

When they were done, they had dinner in downtown Lund. ‘Let’s go somewhere where we can talk undisturbed,’ he said.

They went to a nearly empty Thai place on Stortorget; she knew the food there was good.

‘Listen, you might want to think about going away for a while,’ Magnus said when they were done eating. ‘Get away from everything for a good long time.’

‘What? That would be like giving up!’

‘Not at all. You would have room to breathe. It doesn’t mean you can’t keep blogging and making Oswald miserable.’

She considered it for a moment. But the thought of leaving everything she had so recently built for herself in Lund was overwhelming. Her job, her proximity to her parents, her apartment.

‘Maybe. I have to think about it.’

‘You know that none of what they’re doing to you is new, right? They harass everyone who criticizes them.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘When I wrote that article about ViaTerra, they did everything they could to ruin my life. They hired a private detective to follow me around the clock. They went through my trash, hacked my email, and sent horrible letters to the newspapers I write for. Don’t tell me you didn’t know? You worked with Oswald for almost two years.’

Her mind brought her back to Oswald’s office. The meetings with Bosse, leader of the ethics unit. The extensive archive of folders where they stored personal information about anyone who’d ever been to ViaTerra. And sure, she’d known someone had tailed Strid. But it had felt different back then. It had been understood that ViaTerra would wage a merciless battle against all enemies, because anyone who wanted to stop ViaTerra was in opposition to all of humanity.

‘Sure, but it seemed right back then. Although they never shared details with me,’ she rushed to add.

‘You should know that Oswald has unlimited financial resources. I’ve been snooping in his affairs. He inherited billions from his family in France. What’s more, ViaTerra has been running in the black. People paid a small fortune for his so-called programs. I actually believe he’s one of the richest men in Sweden. Which means that he can essentially buy whatever abominable services he likes. He sees you as an annoying little mosquito he can squash easy as anything.’ He paused, squinting at her under his unruly hair. ‘But that’s what makes this so exciting. It’s a challenge, you know? To be that little mosquito who pops up time and again, buzzing around and being irritating. Biting him when he least expects it. One he never manages to kill.’

The jovial atmosphere they had enjoyed together earlier that day had cooled a bit. He was poking at a sensitive spot that Sofia couldn’t quite understand. He’d touched on something that troubled her, something she didn’t want to admit to.

‘Yeah, but almost everyone says I should put this behind me.’

‘Of course they do. “Just move on.” I’ve heard it a thousand times. But this world is full of way too much crap. Some of us can’t just sit by and watch as the big guys attack those who are weak. That’s just the way it is. I think you’re that sort of person, too. All you can do is accept it.’

They didn’t say anything for a moment. She thought back to the first time she’d met Magnus Strid. Oswald had thought he was coming to ViaTerra to write some positive coverage of them. The place had been almost paralysed when the article came out. Oswald had gone all paranoid and had taken it out on the staff.

‘But it always seemed to me that you were sailing in under a false flag when you came to ViaTerra and pretended to be interested,’ she said.

‘I was interested, Sofia. I walked through that gate with a completely open mind. And what I saw made me sick. Know what I thought was worst?’

‘No?’

‘It was the girls. The guys who worked there were idiots. Robots. They thought Oswald was so cool and tried to ape him. But it was like the girls didn’t have a chance. They were drawn to him like flies to honey. I was absolutely shocked at the way he treated them.’

Sofia felt herself turning red; it spread from her cheeks and up to her forehead. Magnus noticed.

‘Oh, you saw through him in the end, right? Think of the ones who are still there, worshipping him like a god.’

‘So what do you think I should do?’

‘Don’t take down the blog. Keep writing. Write about all the shit they give you. You might even consider penning a book, since you enjoy writing.’

‘I’ve thought about it. I wanted to write a thriller about the manor on the island. They were so prone to misfortune, the family that lived there. Oswald was the son of the last count, you know. I suspect something happened there when he was little. There’s a family history that supposedly contains all the answers, but it’s in Oswald’s hands.’

‘There you go! There’s something to sink your teeth into. Start by doing some research. It’s incredible, all the stuff you can find out online. But do get out of town for a while if it gets to be too much. One day it will all be over, I’m sure, but my article will have consequences. Be prepared. Call me if you need someone to talk to.’

As she watched Magnus’s train vanish down the tracks the next morning, she felt different, as if she were part of an undefeated team.

She went straight from the station to her job. It was Friday, and the library was relatively quiet, which gave her time to think about everything Magnus had said. She was beginning to understand the inner struggle she’d been grappling with since leaving the cult. Everyone dealt with traumatic experiences in different ways, and she wasn’t one of the fortunate ones who could simply shrug and it put it all behind them.

On her way home from work she sank into thoughts of how to spend the weekend. Benjamin wasn’t coming, and she had borrowed a few good books from the library.

She imagined a weekend of taking warm baths and reading on the sofa with a cup of coffee. She thought of everyone she’d neglected over the past week, whom she could turn to now – her parents, Wilma, Simon. And maybe even Benjamin, if he’d calmed down.

A car was parked outside the building’s front door. Benjamin was leaning against the car door and his face lit up when he saw her.

‘You’re here! What about your sister’s party?’

‘It’s not as important as seeing you.’

She was just about to throw her arms around his neck, but he held up one hand to stop her.

‘Hold on, I brought you a present.’

‘What?’

‘Stand perfectly still, right there.’

He slowly opened the car door.

A dog came flying out of the car and bounced around like a ball before it threw its body at Sofia out of pure enthusiasm. It was brown and white, and small, with short legs. One ear stood straight up, while the other flopped down. It was ugly in a funny sort of way.

‘Tell me this is a joke, Benjamin. I’m pretty sure I can’t have a dog.’

He looked hurt.

‘No, you have to take him. He can guard the apartment.’

‘What? Are you kidding?’

She looked at the dog; it was staring at her, its tail wagging frantically.

‘No, it’s a terrier-farmdog mix. It can keep watch; it’s in its genes.’

‘You mean it will bark nonstop every time someone comes up the stairs or walks by the house?’

‘No, the lady I bought it from said it will learn to recognize sounds. Eventually it will only warn you when it hears something unusual.’

‘And how long will that take?’

‘Sofia, look at him. He likes you already. I don’t want you to be alone.’

The dog hadn’t taken its eyes off her, and now it was whining softly. She squatted down to pet it. Its coat was soft and smooth. The nose that nudged her cheek was cool and wet.

‘I can’t, Benjamin. I can’t have a dog. I work full-time.’

‘I already talked to your neighbour, Alma. She goes on two walks every day and is happy to bring him along.’

‘You can’t just talk to my neighbours like that.’

‘She thought it was fun. She invited me in for coffee. And then she made me tell her about when I escaped from ViaTerra. I had to tell her the whole story twice.’

‘Benjamin, this is a terrible idea.’

‘Actually, it’s a great idea.’

‘What’s his name?’

‘Dilbert.’

The dog looked up and pricked its floppy ear. Then it attacked her in a fit of genuine love.