Page 172 - THE ATTACK ON THE FERRISWHEEL- 200 PAGES FREE OFFER
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heavily increased. He doesn’t care. "It's a business injury," he says, when people

                   wonder about his disregard for speed restrictions.
                     His car-phone system goes off, somebody’s calling. "It's Olina."

                   Her feminine voice fills up the car; Tom’s lowering the speakers as she’s talking.

                   Before she says any further, he interjects:
                     “You, I have something for you to see. I think we're catching a big one with this

                   case. " Tom loves fishing metaphors.

                     “Ha, ha! Well, that’ll be great, ” she replies.
                     “I’ve been talking to Beatrice, and I’m convinced that something is very rotten

                   here. I know that Johan definitely had some kind of familiar relationship with
                   Kräsen – and a weird one I should add. Now, the question is what that relation

                   really is. Could you please get any information from either the National Register

                   or the church books about him and his family? There has to be something. "
                   At that very moment, a big truck swings out in front of him. Tom tries to brake as

                   hard as humanly possible, as well as doing a fierce manoeuvre, so he pushes the

                   Audi unto the inside track where the truck came from. He honks the horn for a
                   good 10 seconds, and just exactly manages to avoid an otherwise inevitable

                   crash.
                     "Fuck! Fool!" he cries out, as he’s getting his wagon under control again.

                     "Uhh Tom," says Olina. "Is everything alright?"

                     "Yes, yes, no problem here," he replies.
                     "See you there, Tom."

                   He continues powering through Østerbro, across the Silver Square, pushes

                   through Store Kongensgade. Shortly thereafter, he parks his car in his private
                   parking spot, where an automatic row of metal blocks shoots up from the

                   ground, when he’s not using it, lowering again on his return. He controls the

                   device with his phone. After parking the car, he rushes into the corridor,
                   knocking the snow off his shoes and coat, before walking the five steps up the

                   wide, carpeted staircase leading to the bulletproof elevator with armoured glass.

                   He presses a green call button. The elevator descends silently through the shaft
                   and lands with a soft, almost inaudible bump sound.

                     "Okay, hardworker, what did you find out?"
                     Olina is already sitting in his office waiting for him. She looks tired, though it
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