The Disciple by Michael Hjorth Page B

his password into the computer, then spun his chair around and looked out of the window as he waited for his personal settings to be loaded. It was going to be another beautiful summer’s day.
    There was another knock on the door. This time he didn’t even manage a ‘Come in’ before the door opened and Vanja marched in purposefully. She stopped so suddenly when she caught sight of Haraldsson that Billy almost bumped into her.
    ‘What are you doing here?’
    ‘I work here now.’ Haraldsson straightened up a fraction in the comfortable office chair. ‘I’m the governor. I’ve been in the post for a few days now.’
    ‘Is it just a temporary thing?’ Vanja couldn’t get her head around it.
    ‘No, it’s my new job. It’s a permanent position.’
    ‘Right . . .’
    Billy quickly jumped in with the reason for their visit. ‘We’re here because of Edward Hinde.’
    ‘I realise that.’
    ‘And you still weren’t prepared to see us?’ Vanja again. She sat down in one of the armchairs provided for visitors, a challenging look on her face.
    ‘There’s a lot to do when you’re new in a post.’ Haraldsson waved his hands over the desk, which he quickly realised was rather too empty to make much of an impact when it came to visualising his workload. ‘But I can spare you a few minutes,’ he went on. ‘What would you like to know?’
    ‘Has anything happened with Hinde over the last month or so?’
    ‘Like what?’
    ‘I don’t know . . . Unusual behaviour, any deviations from his normal routine, changes of mood. Anything outside the norm.’
    ‘Not that I’ve heard. There’s nothing in his notes. I haven’t met him personally. Yet.’
    Vanja nodded, apparently satisfied with his response. Billy took over.
    ‘What opportunities does he have to communicate with the outside world?’
    Haraldsson pulled the folder on the desk towards him and opened it, thanking his lucky stars that he had brought it back from home this morning. Having all the available information on Hinde to hand the day after Riksmord had made enquiries about him was a sign of initiative.
    ‘It says here that he has access to newspapers, magazines and books in the library, as well as limited access to the internet.’
    ‘How limited?’ Billy asked quickly.
    Haraldsson didn’t know. However, he did know who to call: Victor Bäckman, security chief at Lövhaga. Victor answered immediately and said he would come straight up. The three of them waited in silence in the bare, impersonal office.
    ‘How’s the shoulder?’ Billy asked after a minute or so.
    ‘Chest,’ Haraldsson corrected him automatically. ‘It’s good. I’m not completely recovered, but it’s . . . good.’
    ‘Great.’
    ‘Yes.’
    Silence once more. Haraldsson was just wondering whether he ought to offer them coffee when Victor arrived. He was a tall man in a checked shirt and chinos, with brown eyes, a crew cut, and a handlebar moustache that made Billy think of the Village People as they shook hands.
    ‘No porn, of course,’ Victor replied when Billy repeated his question about Hinde’s access to the net. ‘Very, very restricted when it comes to violence. It’s the strictest form of adult lock you can imagine. We programmed it ourselves.’
    ‘Social media?’
    ‘Nothing. Completely off limits to him. He has no way of communicating with the outside world via the computer.’
    ‘Can you check his history?’ Vanja asked.
    Victor nodded. ‘We save all web traffic for three months. Would you like a copy?’
    ‘Yes please.’
    ‘He also has a computer in his cell, doesn’t he?’ Haraldsson chipped in, not wanting to feel totally excluded from the conversation.
    Victor nodded again. ‘But it has no internet connection, of course.’
    ‘So what does he use it for?’ Billy turned to Haraldsson, who turned to Victor.
    ‘Crosswords, Sudoku, that kind of thing. He does some writing, too. Keeps his brain active, so to speak.’
    ‘And what about phone