The Disciple by Michael Hjorth Read Free Book Online Page A

wasn’t what was stopping Sebastian. The big problem was that irrespective of when or under what circumstances he told Vanja the truth, it would destroy her relationship with Valdemar. She would hate Sebastian for that. She already disliked him intensely.
    Nothing was simple when it came to Vanja.
    Unless of course she began to have her own doubts about her counterfeit father. That might be one way forward, if Sebastian could just get Vanja herself to bring Valdemar down from the pedestal on which he had dared to place himself. It shouldn’t be impossible. What if she started to find out a few things about Valdemar, dirty little truths, secrets that blackened his name and made his halo slip. There was nothing more likely to get someone to change their views than personal experience and discoveries. Sebastian knew that. Often it was only personal experience of a situation that made you see the reality of it all. Therefore, action was always more valuable than words, and personal action was the most valuable of all.
    If Vanja should make such a discovery herself, then this might cause her to question Valdemar’s character. To think that he might not be the perfect father. That he might be something else. Something much worse.
    If Sebastian could help Vanja to reach this insight, it would lead to despair and confusion. She would feel alone and let down, and she would be open to other influences, open to the truth; perhaps deep down she might even welcome it. Welcome a father figure who was waiting for her, who had secretly been close by. At that precise moment she might even throw her arms around him, need him. When she was hurt and had lost her footing. She would be ready for him.
    It seemed like a really good plan. Complicated, difficult to carry through, but life-changing if it succeeded.
    The research was vital. Nobody’s perfect. Everyone has something to hide. It was simply a matter of finding it. Then exposing it in the best way possible.
    The plan was so malicious that even Sebastian had hesitated briefly.
    If it ever emerged that he had been involved in some way in blackening Valdemar’s name, any chance of a relationship with Vanja would be gone for good. But if his plan succeeded, it would be the turning point he had been seeking. Lurking in the doorway opposite the Italian restaurant, he had decided that she was worth it. That she was worth fighting for.
    He had no life anyway.
    He had pushed his doubts to one side and gone straight home to look up a phone number. A number he hadn’t used for a very long time. The number of the former chief inspector who was everything Torkel Höglund was not.
    Impulsive, unscrupulous, perfectly prepared to walk over dead bodies if necessary.
    He had been kicked out of Riksmord when it turned out that he had been carrying out private surveillance on his ex-wife, and had planted evidence to try to get her new husband convicted of drug-related offences, all so that he could gain sole custody of his children. He was exactly the person Sebastian needed right now.
    Trolle Hermansson.
    He answered after the phone had rung nine times. At first he wanted to talk about the old days, but Sebastian made it clear that he wasn’t interested, and briefly outlined what he wanted. He finished his explanation with the promise of several thousand kronor in payment, but Trolle waved away his offer. He seemed genuinely pleased at the thought of having something to do. He just needed a few days.
    That was two weeks ago.
    Trolle had called him several times since then, but Sebastian had ignored him every single time. Sat motionless in the apartment, listening to the telephone as it rang and rang and rang. Only Trolle would let the phone ring so many times before giving up. Sebastian was no longer sure that he wanted to know. If he pursued this, would there be any boundaries left for him to cross?
    But now he could feel the exhaustion taking hold. The hours on the hillock outside Vanja’s apartment.