A uniformed officer is stationed ten metres in front of the barrier on Sturegatan by Humlegårdsgatan when Joona Linna drives up. The policeman tries to direct him away, but Joona ignores him and parks at the edge of the road. He shows his ID, bends underneath the plastic tape barrier, and then starts to jog towards the Saluhall.
He’d received the call only eighteen minutes ago, but the gunfight is over and the ambulances have begun to arrive.
The leader of the operation, Jenny Göransson, is receiving a detailed report regarding the police pursuit of the suspect, which has concluded in the part of town called Diplomat City. It appears that the suspect has entered the German embassy. Saga Bauer is talking to a colleague outside the Saluhall. The officer is wrapped in a blanket. Saga catches Joona’s eye and waves him over. He walks towards the women and nods a greeting.
“I was sure I’d get here before you,” Joona says.
“Too slow, Joona, you’re too slow.”
“Yes, I am.” He grins as he replies.
The policewoman in the blanket looks at Joona and says hello.
“This is Mira Carlsson from Span,” Saga says. “She was one of the first into the Saluhall and she thinks she hit our man.”
“But you didn’t see his face,” Joona states.
“No, I didn’t,” Mira confirms.
Joona looks at the entrance to the Saluhall and then turns to Saga.
“They assured me that all the buildings nearby were secure,” he mutters bitterly.
“They assumed these were too far away—”
“They assumed wrong,” Joona says.
“Yes,” Saga agrees, and gestures at the building. “He was behind the fence of this entrance and he was able to fire a shot through Penelope’s window.”
“So I heard. She was lucky,” Joona says softly.
Barriers were up in the area around Östermalms Saluhall and small numbered signs marked the first findings: a shoe print and an empty cartridge from a full metal jacket American-made precision bullet.
Farther inside the open doors, Joona can see some tomatoes scattered across the floor along with a battered-looking magazine from a Swedish AK-5.
“Stewe Billgren, our colleague from Span,” Saga continues, “followed the suspect to Diplomat City and reports that he walked into the German embassy through the front door.”
“Any possibility he could be mistaken?”
“Maybe … we’re in contact with the embassy and … wait”—she quotes from her notebook—“they say that they have not ‘registered any unusual activity within the embassy grounds.’?”
“Have you talked to Billgren yourself?”
“Yes.” Saga looks at Joona seriously. “His hearing was damaged when the suspect blew up the stolen car. He can hardly hear a thing. However, he’s absolutely certain what he saw. He clearly saw the suspect enter the German embassy.”
“And perhaps he went on through and back out on the other side.”
“Well, we have our people surrounding it now and a helicopter in the air. We just need permission to enter the building.”
Joona takes a quick look at the Saluhall. “That can take a while.” He takes out his mobile phone and says, almost to himself, “I’m going to have a chat with Klara Olofsdotter.”
Klara Olofsdotter, the main prosecutor for the International Prosecutor’s Office, picks up the phone on the second ring.
“I know it’s you, Joona,” she says without a greeting. “And I know what’s going on.”
“Then you also know we must get inside that embassy.”
“That’s not so easy. This is always a damned sensitive area, excuse my language. I’ve talked with the ambassador’s secretary by phone,” Klara Olofsdotter explains. “She insists that everything is absolutely normal at the embassy.”
“We know the suspect is inside,” Joona says.
“How could he have got in?”
“He might be a German citizen demanding his right for help from the embassy. They’ve just opened. He could also be a Swedish part-time employee or he has the pass code or … some kind of diplomatic status. Maybe he has immunity or he’s being protected by someone. We just don’t know. He might even be a close relative of the defence attaché or the ambassador, Joachim Rücker, himself.”
“But you don’t even know what he looks like,” she says. “How could we identify him even if they let us inside?”
“I’ll get a witness,” Joona says.
There’s a moment of silence. Joona can hear Klara Olofsdotter breathing on the other end of the line.
“All right. Then I’ll find a way to get you in,” she says at last.