The 100-Year-Old Man Who Climbed Out the Window and Disappeared

how the detonation could be controlled. Mr Allan’s solution was not yet tested, but Oppenheimer was speaking for all those present when he said that the problem had just become history and that within three months they could have a trial explosion.
    The vice president looked round the table and got nods of agreement. Lieutenant Lewis had gradually started to breathe again. In the end, the vice president’s eyes fell on Allan.
    ‘I do believe, Mr Allan, that you are the hero of the day. As for me, I need to have a bite before I return to Washington. Would you like to join me?’
    Following on less than a decade after the Generalissimo’s dinner invitation, Allan surmised that it must be a commoncharacteristic of world leaders to invite you to eat as soon as you did something they liked, but he didn’t say so. Instead he thanked the vice president for the invitation and the two men walked out of the room together. Oppenheimer was left at the conference table looking both relieved and unhappy.
     
    Vice President Truman had ordered his favourite Mexican restaurant in the centre of Los Alamos to be sealed off, so Allan and Truman had the place to themselves, except for a dozen or so bodyguards spread out in various corners.
    The head of the security unit had pointed out that Mr Allan was not an American and not even cleared to be alone with the vice president, but Truman dismissed the security official’s objections with the comment that today Mr Allan had done the most patriotic thing anyone could imagine.
    The vice president was in excellent spirits. Straight after dinner, instead of going to Washington, he had decided to fly to Georgia where President Roosevelt was staying at a polio clinic. The president would want to hear this news directly, Harry Truman was sure of that.
    ‘I’ll order the food, so you can choose the drinks,’ said Harry Truman jovially and handed the wine list to Allan.
    Truman turned to the head waiter, who bowed as he received a large order for tacos, enchilada, corn tortillas and salsa.
    ‘And to drink, sir?’
    ‘Two bottles of tequila,’ Allan answered.
    Harry Truman laughed and asked if Allan wanted to drink him under the table. Allan answered that the last year had taught him that the Mexicans could make spirits with as much oomph in them as akvavit, but that the vice president could of course drink milk if he considered that more suitable.
    ‘No, I’ve given my word,’ said Vice President Truman, and he made sure the order included lime and salt.
    Three hours later the two men were calling each other Harry and Allan, which goes to show what a couple of bottles of tequila can do for international relations. Allan told Truman how the local bigwig had been blown to bits and how he saved the life of General Franco. The vice president, for his part, amused Allan by imitating President Roosevelt’s attempts to get up out of his wheelchair.
    When the two men were on the most jovial of terms, the head of the security staff discreetly approached the vice president.
    ‘Could I have a word please, sir?’
    ‘Go ahead,’ said the vice president in a slurred voice.
    ‘Preferably in private, sir.’
    ‘I’ll be damned if you don’t look just like Humphrey Bogart! Have you seen him, Allan?’
    ‘Sir…,’ said the increasingly troubled security man.
    ‘Yes, what the hell do you want?’ the vice president hissed.
    ‘Sir, it is about President Roosevelt.
    ‘What about that old goat?’ The vice president guffawed.
    ‘He’s dead, sir.’

Chapter 10
    Monday, 9th May 2005
    Bucket sat outside the supermarket in Rottne for four days, hoping to see his colleague Bolt, first of all, and secondly a hundred-year-old man, a red-haired woman of a slightly younger model, a guy with a pony tail (otherwise of unknown appearance) and a Mercedes. It wasn’t his idea to sit there; it was the Boss’s. Bucket had immediately reported his fortuitous conversation with his little brother and leader of The Violence in Braås about the centenarian who had most definitely been outside a health clinic in Småland in the middle of the night. That was when the Boss had ordered a watch on the town’s most popular supermarket. He assumed that a person who was out walking in Rottne in the middle of the night must be holed up somewhere thereabouts, and everyone needs to go food shopping sooner or later. The logic was indisputable. It was not for nothing the Boss was the boss. But of course that was