week,’ he had said, and she hadn’t protested.
She realized that she was looking forward to him calling, in fact.
‘Like some story in a bloody women’s magazine,’ she snorted.
She wondered how Henke was getting on?
But, then again, why should she care?
HP was impressed. After a bit of fiddling about, Manga – no, Farook – had managed to open a compartment on the phone that HP had never even noticed, and had plugged a USB cable into the little socket hidden inside. Obviously he should have known that there had to be a way into it, but he’d been so absorbed by what was happening on the screen that he hadn’t given any thought to the basics, such as how you charged the thing when the battery was exhausted.
As soon as Manga plugged the cable into one of the computers at the back of the shop a little charging light went on, so evidently it would work with any USB power-source.
A bit of nifty typing, then a load of symbols started rolling on one of the computer screens.
HP was by no means a novice when it came to computers, but this was out of his league, no question. Manga was a wiz at computers and maybe he’d be able to find out something useful.
‘This is going to take a while,’ he muttered, and HP agreed without protest to run a few errands in the city. In a fit of generosity, he even brought paper cups of latte back to the shop so they wouldn’t have to drink the bitter brewed coffee from the hotplate.
But when he got back something had changed. Manga seemed to have been practically waiting for him just inside the door. He grabbed HP’s arm and dragged him into the shop, almost spilling the lattes.
‘What the fuck are you doing, calm down!’
But Manga wasn’t listening. Instead he shut the door, locked it and changed the sign to ‘Closed’.
Without a word he pulled HP over to the corner where the computer was.
The three screens were showing a series of film-clips.
HP unscrewing the wheel nuts of a Ferrari.
HP blowing up the Horse-Guards in Kungsträdgården.
HP dropping a stone over a railing at Lindhagensplan and then a car with flashing blue lights rolling over and over until it came to rest with smoke rising from the engine …
His stomach clenched tight.
‘What the fuck are you really up to?’ Manga hissed, giving him an accusing stare.
So much for rule number one, then …
His third transgression in twenty-four hours, this was seriously not good.
Fucking mega not good!
‘Can that thing hear us?’ he said anxiously, pointing at the mobile.
‘What? No, of course it can’t!’ Manga snarled. ‘What the fuck is this about, HP?’
HP gave the phone another quick glance and, just to be sure, pulled Manga with him into the little cubbyhole behind the counter. He licked his lips nervously while he tried to gather his thoughts.
Purely technically, he had only broken the rules once. He hadn’t actually blabbed to his sister, even if the Game seemed to think he had and had punished him accordingly. So really he’d been punished for something he hadn’t done, which meant they owed him one. Besides, he needed Manga, sorry, Farook. Without him he wouldn’t be able to contact the Game.
So you could say that everyone gained from the violation of the rules that he was contemplating. He hadn’t expected Manga to be able to get any pictures out of it. An IP-address, maybe a server host somewhere, that was all he needed to get going. But when it came to technology his old friend was far too smart for his own good. So how could he get Manga to go along with his plan?
‘Okay, it’s like this … Farook,’ he said, tasting the unfamiliar name cautiously.
He had to play this on Manga’s terms …
‘Like I told you, I found the mobile on the train from Märsta the other week, but what I didn’t tell you is that it invited me to play a game. A rather special game, actually …’
In retrospect she realized that she already knew it was going to be there. She’d had an uneasy feeling ever since she entered the changing room and when she opened her locker she realized why.
Another official white post-it note with red writing, neatly stuck to the edge of the shelf, just like the one before.
And just like the last one, she realized the note was right. It should have been her. It would have been fairer somehow if it was her body instead of Kruse’s that got smashed up in the car. An eye for an eye, you could almost say. Then she would have been able to move on at last. Put it all behind her. Maybe, anyway.
But it couldn’t go on like this.
First there were the notes, which were appearing more and more often, then Henke going crazy, and then Micke, who had suddenly broken their usual pattern without warning. She had to get a grip on things, regain control over her own life. She couldn’t put it off any longer, she had to do it now. And she had to start with Nilla.
HP had actually stuck to the truth. Almost, anyway. The only thing he left out was the small fact that his sister had been in the cop-car that he hit over at Lindhagens. But otherwise it had pretty much been nothing but the truth … Possibly with one or two minor exceptions. Manga would never buy the fact that he wanted to carry on playing. Which wasn’t so strange. He could hardly believe it himself, that he was even considering anything like that. And Manga was no longer the gambling type. Apart from the occasional World of Warcraft session, where he kept on going with his tired old Paladin character, nowadays he played it safe. Wife and child, flat in the suburbs and all that.
He’d forgotten the kick you got from gaming, the rush from the adrenalin coursing through your body, and, even more important: Manga had no idea what it was like to feel chosen, appreciated, and to get loads of cred from an entire fucking world!
So he ended up covering his motives with a little white lie …
He said he wanted to find out who was behind the Game, maybe give an anonymous tip-off to one of the evening papers, or Crimewatch or something like that? A bit of payback for all the shit he’d had to take. Manga bought it without question, and why not? It could very easily have been true.
He was able to dig out a server address more or less instantly, but after that things ground to a complete halt. HP got a bit down-hearted but Manga wasn’t the sort to give up just like that. From what they could work out, the server appeared to be in Sweden, and if it was, then that meant that somewhere in cyberspace there was someone who had sold, installed and configured it. The odds that such a person would be somewhere in Manga’s network of contacts were pretty good.
He’d put out a few tentative feelers and they’d have to wait to see if there was any response. That wasn’t quite the scenario HP had been hoping for.
