Three Seconds

amphetamine.’
    ‘Three kilos? That’ll be a long sentence. Then he’ll have to go to a holding prison first, Kumla, before being transferred.’
    ‘Not this time.’
    ‘Yes, he—’
    ‘Pål?’
    The state secretary had a voice that was soft but could give surprisingly harsh instructions.
    ‘Deal with it.’
    Wilson weathered the embarrassing silence.
    ‘When Paula arrives at Aspsås, his work duties will already be fixed. He’ll start as the new cleaner in the administration block and workshop.’
    ‘Prison management usually only grants cleaning duties as a reward.’
    ‘Then reward him.’
    ‘And who the hell is Paula? He must have a name? Do you? Because you can talk for yourself, can’t you?’
    The director general of the Prison and Probation Service was used to giving orders and being obeyed, not being given them and having to obey.
    ‘You’ll get my name and personal details. So that you can put me in the right prison, give me the right work and make sure that at lock-up time exactly two days after I’ve arrived, there will be an extensive spot check of every cell in the prison.’
    ‘What the hell—’
    ‘With dogs. That’s important.’
    ‘With dogs? And what happens when we find what you’ve planted? To the fellow prisoner who you’ve wasted your drugs on? No chance. I don’t buy it. It means putting my staff at risk and as a result, someone being charged for a crime they didn’t commit. I just won’t buy it.’
    The state secretary stepped closer to Larsen, put her hand on the arm of his jacket and looked straight at him while she spoke in a soft voice.
    ‘Pål, just sort it. I appointed you. And that means that you decide what happens in the Prison and Probation Service. You decide what you and I agree that you should decide. And when you leave, could you please shut the door behind you.’
    There was a bit of a draught from an open window further down the corridor.
    Perhaps that was why the door slammed quite so loudly.
    ‘Paula will continue to infiltrate the organisation from the inside. We have to make him more dangerous.’
    Erik Wilson waited until the noise from the door subsided.
    ‘He will have committed some serious crimes. He’ll be given a long sentence. He’ll only be able to operate freely from his cell if he gets respect. And when the other prisoners check his criminal record, and you can be sure that they will, on the first day in fact, they will find all the answers we want them to.’
    ‘How?’
    A hint of a frown on the state secretary’s blank face.
    ‘How will he get that background?’
    ‘I normally use one of my civilian contacts. Someone who works in the national courts administration, a civil servant who files information directly in the criminal records database. An original document fromthere … well, it’s never been questioned yet by anyone in a prison corridor.’
    He had expected more questions. About how often he tampered with the national court administration databases. How many people were walking around with false convictions.
    He didn’t get any.
    They were sitting at a meeting table where elastic solutions were not unusual and the names and titles of key people who adjusted flows or shortened waiting times for court cases were not required.
    ‘In thirty-eight hours, a wanted person will be arrested and questioned.’
    He looked at Hoffmann.
    ‘He will plead guilty, state that he acted alone and a couple of weeks later will agree with a city court judgement and a long sentence that is to be served in Aspsås, one of the country’s three high-security prisons.’
    The room was still irritatingly bright and wiltingly warm.
    They all stood up. They were done.
    Piet Hoffmann wanted to hammer down the door and run out of the building and not stop until he was holding Zofia’s body tight in his arms. But not yet. He wanted it to be formulated as clearly as possible so that there could only be one interpretation.
    Always on your own
.
    ‘Before I leave, I’d like you to summarise exactly what you are guaranteeing me.’
    He had expected to be dismissed. But she realised that he needed to hear it.
    ‘I’ll deal with it.’
    Piet Hoffmann stepped closer and felt the loose lead slapping against the fabric of his trousers. He leant slightly to the right, so that it would be directly in front of her; it was important that he caught absolutely everything.
    ‘How?’
    ‘I guarantee that you won’t be charged for anything that