Now the man in the hat was dead. After having looked the Passat over, Harvath was growing more convinced that Lund’s death hadn’t been an accident. Somewhere along the way, Lars Lund had screwed up and it had cost him his life.
“How about you?” the Chief Inspector asked.
Harvath, who had been processing all of the information, hadn’t caught the question. “I’m sorry. What was that?”
“Did Mr. Lund make arrangements for you?”
“He was going to set something up, but I don’t know where.”
“I’ll have an officer reach out to the different hotels; perhaps we can find where he was staying.”
Harvath nodded.
“Will you be staying or returning to Brussels?”
“I think we’ll be staying, at least until SHAPE decides what it wants to do.”
“Of course. If, in the meantime, you need any help finding rooms,” said Nyström, “let me know. I’m sure we can assist you.”
“Thank you.”
Fishing a business card from his pocket, the Chief Inspector handed it to Harvath. “My cell phone number is on the back. If anything comes to mind that you think might be useful in our investigation, please call me. Day or night.”
Harvath took the card and tucked it inside his jacket. He’d been toying with revealing the name of their subject. With Lund deceased, he was at a literal dead end. He didn’t know where to find him. He decided to take the police officer into his confidence.
“There may be something,” he offered.
Nyström kept his eyes on the road, but even in the dark of the car, it was obvious that his interest had been piqued. “What is it?”
“I assume you have heard about the attacks on the three NATO diplomats?”
“Yes. Most terrible.”
“And the situation in Norway?”
“Yes,” the Chief Inspector repeated. “The same group was allegedly involved there as well. The People’s Revolutionary Front. They had planned to sabotage military equipment, correct?”
“Exactly,” said Harvath.
“Is there some sort of connection to Mr. Lund or to Gotland?”
“We don’t know,” Harvath lied, again. “But as you can imagine, in light of these attacks, NATO has adopted a much higher security posture. Part of our assignment here was to do a security assessment.”
“What does that entail?”
“Pretty basic stuff, really. Is Gotland safe for NATO personnel? Are there any anti-NATO elements here who may be connected to the People’s Revolutionary Front, et cetera.”
“As far as the police are concerned, we are not aware of any anti-NATO groups here on the island. I’m sure people have opinions, but organized resistance? No. Back on the mainland might be a different situation, especially in and around Stockholm, but not here.”
“That’s good to know,” replied Harvath. “There is, though, one person we have interest in.”
“On Gotland?”
“Yes.”
“Who is it?”
“His name is Staffan Sparrman. Are you familiar with him?”
The Chief Inspector pulled his car over to the side of the road and stopped. Turning to look at Harvath, he said, “I am going to give you one chance—that’s all—to tell me what the hell is going on. If you don’t, I’m going to place you and the rest of your people under arrest until we get all of this sorted out.”
“Obviously, you’re familiar with him,” said Harvath.
“Of course I am,” Nyström replied. “Staffan Sparrman is the son of Kerstin Sparrman, the Governor of Gotland.”
CHAPTER 27
* * *
Based on the circumstances, Harvath was forced to unpack a lot more information for Nyström than he had intended. But to his credit, the Chief Inspector listened well, asked intelligent questions, and was forthright with information.
Staffan Sparrman was in his late twenties and was known to have flirted with socialism while at university in Uppsala and for a short time afterward. This being Sweden, though, that didn’t mean much. Sweden was known as an extremely liberal country. And by all accounts, Sparrman had drifted away from politics.
In fact, the man had become so apolitical that he even refused to work on his mother’s campaign for Governor. It was quite the scuttlebutt at the time and resulted in continuing tension between them.
Sparrman, instead, occupied himself with the management of the family farm left by his maternal grandparents. His father, who divorced his mother when he was a teen, lived back on the mainland. They did not have a very good relationship either.
As if to add emphasis to his certitude that Sparrman had abandoned any affinity for socialism or communism, Nyström pointed to the fact that the young man even imported cheap farm labor from Eastern Europe, rather than hire—and pay—local Swedes.
With each point he made, the Chief Inspector was only convincing Harvath that he had the right guy. Sparrman fit the profile of a Russian espionage recruit to a T.
Yet, with all that Nyström had shared with him, there was one piece of information that he wouldn’t give up—where Harvath could find Staffan Sparrman.
“I think it would be better if I go out and speak to him alone,” said the Chief Inspector.
“And tell him what? That some American just landed and he’s got a bunch of questions?”
“I’ll be a bit more subtle than that.”
Harvath didn’t doubt it, but by the same token he didn’t like the idea of Nyström tipping his hand. “Why don’t we sit on this for a couple of days? Let my team surveil him while I gather some more information. SHAPE may want to involve the local garrison commander after all. There’s no rush here.”
The Chief Inspector shook his head. “I have a fatal car crash involving a member of the Swedish armed forces. I have a NATO representative telling me a member of the Gotland community is a person of interest, possibly connected somehow to a string of attacks on NATO diplomats, as well as members of Norwegian law enforcement and the Norwegian military. And oh, by the way, the person of interest is the son of the island’s Governor.
“I can’t help but move this forward. If I delay my investigation, it might look like I was giving Sparrman special treatment just because of who his mother is. I could lose my job over something like that.”
The man was in a tough spot, Harvath understood that, but there had to be some sort of an accommodation they could come to. “You have to do something, I agree. But does it have to be direct confrontation? Couldn’t you open up a separate investigation and place him under surveillance for a couple of days? Technically, that wouldn’t be a delay. You’d be gathering evidence and would be able to document everything.”
Nyström thought about that. “Technically, I suppose you are correct. There’s no evidence connecting Sparrman to the car accident. Your claim that he’s a person of interest in the anti-NATO attacks is new information, which, if we choose to pursue it, would constitute a new and separate investigation.”
“There you go,” said Harvath.
“But there’s just one thing,” said the Chief Inspector. “I report to a chain of command. We also have laws in Sweden regarding surveillance that must be followed.”