Easy Money by Jens Lapidus Read Free Book Online Page A

Walter ordered a Guinness. It took ten minutes for the bartender to pour it.
    They chatted. Memories from last summer, when there’d been mini riots at Österåker. How the guys who’d gated out were doing. How the ones who’d gone straight back in were doing. Finally, after a half an hour, Jorge lowered his voice, asked what he’d come here to ask.
    “Walter, I’ve something serious to discuss with you.”
    Walter looked up from his beer. Looked intrigued. “Shoot.”
    “I’m gonna fly. No way I’m gonna rot three more years in prison. I’ve got an idea that might work. I trust you, Walter. You were always a good CO. I know why you asked to resign. We all know. You were good to us. You helped us. Would you help me now? I’ll make it worth your while,
claro.
”
    Jorge was 99 percent about Walter. The last percent: Walter could double-game him. In that case, J-boy was a goner.
    Walter leapt right in: “Breaking out of Österåker is hard. Only three guys’ve done it in the past ten years. Each one of them’s been picked up within a year of the escape. ’Cause that’s the hardest part, to lay low
after
the escape. Just see what happened to Tony Olsson and those other guys. Your plan’s got to be damn solid. Or else you’re fucked. You know, those guys were lying doggo under some bridge when the military forces plucked ’em. They didn’t have a chance in hell. On the other hand, they were violent sons of bitches, so whatever. Fuck ’em. I’m not in that field anymore, so to speak, so I don’t know if I can help you. But I’ll give it a try for some jingle. Tell me what you need. I never snitch; you know that.”
    Jorge’d made up his mind. He was gonna put his chips on Walter.
    “I need to know a couple of things from you. Five large if you can help.”
    “Like I said, I’ll try.”
    Weird feeling. Sitting in a pub—with the screws only a few feet away—talking escape plans with an ex-screw. Had to strain his face. Control his body movements. Make sure you couldn’t tell how stressed he was by looking at him. Jorge put his hands in his lap under the table. Crossed his legs. Picked at a napkin. Tore it to shreds. Tried to focus.
    “Two questions. First, I want to know what routines the COs have to check on us when we’re in the rec yard. Second, I need to know how fast the COs could pick up a chase if someone skipped over one of the walls, probably one on the south side, by D Block.”
    Walter sipped his beer. Got foam on his upper lip.
    Started talking about what he’d done last summer. Uninteresting chatter.
    Jorge looked at him. Walter was thinking, calculating, but he wanted his mouth to run in case the screws looked over.
    Jorge glanced at them. The screws were talking. Chilling.
    It was cool.
    He calmed down.
    Walter knew a lot. Went over it. Good info. Useful. For example: the placement of the guard towers, escape preparation plans, communications codes, established routines. Times for guard change, schedules for frisking, alarm systems. Plans A and B, where A was in case of an individual inmate’s escape attempt, and B in the case of several inmates’ escape attempts. Skipped C: plan in case of riot. Walter’s knowledge was golden.
    Jorge, eternally grateful. Promised to get Walter his five grand within a few weeks.
    The screws waved.
    Time to go back.
    J-boy to himself: Rubber’s rolled on and I’m ready to dip.

5
    No one in the posh parts of Stockholm knew the following about Johan Westlund, alias JW, the brats’ brattiest brat: He was an ordinary citizen, a loser, a tragic Sven. He was a bluff, a fake who was playing a high-stakes double game. He lived the high life with the boyz two to three nights a week and scraped by the rest of the time to make ends meet.
    JW pretended to be an ultrabrat. Really he was the world’s biggest penny-pinching pauper.
    He ate pasta with ketchup five days a week, never went to the movies, jumped turnstiles, stole toilet paper from the university