The Other Son by Alexander Söderberg Read Free Book Online Page B

the head, and collapsed.

Leszek was driving. Sophie was sitting beside him in the passenger seat. They were heading out of Arlanda Airport, toward Stockholm. He was clutching a cell phone to his ear.
    “I’ve just picked her up,” he said.
    Sophie heard Aron’s voice crackle quietly in Leszek’s ear.
    Would she lie to them now?…Or would she tell the truth? How Hanke and Ramirez collaborated to unreservedly force Hector down on his knees, once and for all.
    Either way, truth or lie, the consequences would be enormous, in both directions. The truth would lead to prolonged violence and death, a scorched-earth strategy. The lie, on the other hand, would lead to more lies, procrastination, and her loneliness and powerlessness. Because who would she have on her side if she chose the lie? No one, absolutely no one. She’d be all alone.
    Leszek angled the phone toward her.
    “Off you go,” he told her.
    Sophie watched the road ahead. Traveling fast to an unknown future.
    “Sophie?” Leszek said.
    She looked at him.
    Did she even have a choice?
    The lie…
    “As expected,” she said in a slightly louder voice than usual.
    Aron said something, and Leszek repeated it to Sophie: “What do they want?”
    “For us to expand.”
    Three people in the same conversation. Two speaking, one acting as a go-between. Aron thought that led to fewer misunderstandings.
    “And what did you reply?” Leszek asked Sophie.
    “That we’ll hold back on that,” she replied.
    “Did they accept that?”
    “Yes.”
    Aron asked Leszek a question.
    “Just like that?” Leszek asked Sophie.
    She nodded. “Yes.”
    “The price?”
    “The same.”
    Aron’s voice from the tiny speaker, Leszek mediating: “Why?”
    “We got on well,” she lied.
    Leszek listened, then asked Sophie a question: “Are they calm?”
    “Yes, I think so,” she lied once more, looking out the side window.
    Out-of-focus fir trees flashed past.
    “Anything else?” Leszek asked.
    “No,” she whispered.
    Leszek and Aron exchanged a few quiet sentences, then Leszek ended the call and concentrated on driving down the motorway.
    She sat there, staring at nothing, trying to maintain the relaxed air she hoped she was exuding. She would have to think twice about everything she said from now on.
    “Angela and the children are on their way here with Hasani,” Leszek said. “They’re going to stay with Daphne and Thierry until we know what’s going on.”
    Sophie saw a train running parallel to them, racing along the rails at the same speed as the car.
    Leszek’s tone changed. “Tomorrow?” he asked.
    At first she didn’t understand the question.
    “Your schedule?” he clarified.
    Her schedule, of course, the never-ending fucking schedule.
    It was a daily routine with Leszek, the daily schedule, her schedule. The intrusive system of surveillance that he never let up on, which was utterly incompatible with any sort of private life. It was all about what she was going to do, where she was going to be and when, whom she was going to meet, and so on. Sometimes more general, sometimes tiresomely detailed. Every step she took was mapped and controlled by him. He made spot checks. Leszek could show up anywhere without warning, could suddenly call and check where she was and ask her to go to a location close to where she had said she would be.
    It was stressful, but she had gotten used to it and didn’t complain. She never complained.
    Sophie kept her eyes on the world outside, nudging aside some hair that had fallen across her forehead.
    “Home in the morning,” she said in a monotone. “Laundry, then driving Albert to his exercise class in the afternoon. Out to Daphne and Thierry, meet Angela and the boys.”
    —
    Sophie avoided herself in the mirror, focusing instead on her shoes until the elevator stopped at her floor.
    From the hall she could hear laughter from the living room. She put her bag down on the floor and went in.
    Albert was sitting on the sofa