They took positions on either side of the back door and waited. Five minutes passed. They could hear the man moving about inside. Brian opened the back screen door and tried the inside doorknob. Unlocked. He looked back at Dominic, gave him a nod, then turned the knob, eased open the door, stopped. Waited. Nothing. Brian stepped through and held the door for Dominic, who followed.
They were in a narrow kitchen. To the left, past the refrigerator, was a dining room. To the right, a short hall leading toward the front of the house into what looked like a living room. Somewhere a television was playing. Brian sidestepped and peeked around the corner. He pulled back and signaled to Dominic: Eyes on one man. I’m going. Dominic nodded.
Brian took a step, paused, then another, then he was halfway down the hall.
The plank floor beneath his feet creaked.
In the living room, Anton Rolf, standing in front of the TV, looked up, saw Brian, and bolted for the front door. Brian rushed ahead, bent over, and placed both hands against the long wooden coffee table and bulldozed it, pinning Rolf against the partially opened front door. Rolf lost his balance and fell backward. Brian was already moving, up on the coffee table and across it. He caught Rolf’s head by the hair and slammed his forehead into the doorjamb once, then twice, then a third time. Rolf went limp.
They found a roll of quarter-inch clothesline in a kitchen drawer and tied up Rolf. While Brian watched over him, Dominic searched the house but came up with nothing unusual, save the suitcase Rolf had been packing. “He did a quick pack job,” Brian said, sorting through the clothes and toiletries that had been shoved into the case. It seemed clear that Rolf’s decision to leave had been precipitated by his friends’ visit.
Outside they heard the squeal of brakes. Brian went to the front window, looked out, then shook his head. Dominic went into the kitchen. He reached the sink window in time to see a woman come around the corner from the driveway and head for the back door, which opened a moment later, just as Dominic slipped behind it. The woman stepped inside. Dominic swung the door shut, stepped to her, clamped his right hand over her mouth, and twisted her head so it lay tight against his shoulder.
“Quiet,” he whispered in Swedish. “Do you speak English?”
She nodded. Most Swedes did, they’d found, which seemed to be the case in most European countries. Americans were unique in that respect, having largely remained literate in English only—and sometimes then only marginally so.
“I’m going to take my hand away. We’re not going to hurt you, but if you scream, I’ll gag you. Understand?”
She nodded.
Dominic took his hand away and gently shoved her into one of the dining room chairs. Brian came in. “What’s your name?” Dominic asked her.
“Maria.”
“Anton’s your boyfriend?”
“Yes.”
“People are looking for him, you know.”
“You’re looking for him.”
“Other than us,” Brian replied. “The waitress at the Radish told us some Middle Eastern guys were asking about him.” Maria didn’t answer. “He didn’t tell you, did he?”
“No.”
“Probably didn’t want to worry you.”
Maria rolled her eyes, and Brian chuckled. “We’re kinda stupid that way sometimes.”
This brought a smile to Maria’s lips. “Yes, I know.”
Dominic asked, “Did Anton tell you why he’s hiding?”
“Something to do with the police.”
Brian and Dominic exchanged glances. Had Anton assumed the police were looking for him for another reason? Something other than his aunt’s missing-person report?
“Where were you two going?” Dominic asked.
“Stockholm. He has friends there.”
Okay, listen: If we’d meant you harm, we would’ve done it by now. Do you understand?”
She nodded. “Who are you?”
“Doesn’t matter. We need you to make Anton understand. If he answers our questions, we’ll see what we can do to help him. Okay? If not, things go bad.”
“Okay.”
Brian got a pitcher of cold water from the kitchen and dumped it over Anton’s head. Then he and Dominic retreated to the far side of the living room while Maria knelt before Anton’s chair and started whispering to him. After five minutes, she turned around and nodded to them.
My aunt filed a report,” Anton said a few minutes later.
Dominic nodded. “She hadn’t seen you. I guess she was worried. You thought it was about something else? Something to do with that plane?”
“How did you know about that?”
“A hunch,” Brian replied. “Until now. You did something with the transponder?”