Perfect People

78

From: Kalle Almtorp, Swedish Embassy, Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia.

To: John Klaesson bklaesson@morleypark. org

Subject: Disciples

John,

I trust this email finds you well and coping with that terrible British climate! Life here in Malaysia is good although the heat took a while to adjust to. I am curious to know how you are. How is Naomi? Luke and Phoebe?

I am writing with possibly good news. My contact at the FBI tells me (very confidentially!) that they now have a lead in their search for these Disciples of the Third Millennium. Still early days, but (and please don’t repeat this) there is some evidence pointing to a religious cult based in exile in a remote part of Europe. These people may be funded by the son of one of America’s richest families, but I understand the evidence is only very tentative at this stage.

As soon as I have more news I will be in touch again. Meantime, it would be good to hear from you. Scary how time passes. How many years since we last saw each other?

Halsningar!

Kalle

John balled his fist and raised it in the air. ‘Yes!!!!!’

Then he tugged the last olive off the cocktail stick, chewed it, and drained the rest of his martini.

Rain spattered against the window in front of his desk. It was a truly foul night and the wind seemed to be freshening. This was great news! They were going to get those bastards. And then they would be safe, at last.

He’d needed something to cheer him after the grim pronouncements of Dr Michaelides, who had just left half an hour or so ago.

He tilted the cocktail glass back and let the last drips of the drink roll into his mouth. Then reality set in. Oh Jesus, what the hell did they do now?

Wait. Wait for the psychologist to come back to them, that was all they could do.

In an attempt to cheer Naomi, he went through to the kitchen and told her the good news from Kalle Almtorp. He embellished it a little, telling her that the FBI were days away from an arrest. From scooping up the entire damned cult.

In just a few days, they would be free from their worries!

But Naomi had not just drunk an extremely large martini; she was stone cold sober. She did not share any of his joy or his alcohol-fuelled optimism

She told him life sucked.