مونیکا چیزی که میدید رو باور نمیکرد!

Chapter six

Monika couldn’t believe her eyes!

Monika took the early afternoon SAS flight to London and checked into the Scandic Crown Hotel, near Victoria Station. She had a map of London, and knew where Millham United’s stadium was.

She decided to go there first.

She left the hotel at eight o’clock in the evening and took a taxi to the Millham United stadium in East London. There were lots of people near the stadium and the lights were on.

‘Is there a match tonight?’ Monika asked the taxi driver. ‘No,’ the taxi driver replied. ‘There’s a concert.’

Then Monika saw a large sign.

WHITE ROCK CONCERT

Monika paid and went in. There were about two thousand people in the stadium. Most were men and most had shaved heads and big boots. There was a platform in the middle of the stadium.

The lights went on. A tall, red-haired man carrying a guitar walked on to the front of the platform. Everyone shouted. Then the red-haired man began to play.

Monika watched in great surprise. It was Bruce, the man she had met on the Mariella.

Bruce started to play. He was brilliant - even better than on the Mariella. Monika listened and watched for half an hour, forgetting where she was. She liked this man. ‘Maybe when this is over,’ she thought, ‘we can go out together.’

Then she remembered why she was at Millham United stadium and left the concert.

The rest of the football stadium was dark. Outside there was a car park, and some lights were on here. Monika found a door. It was open so she went in. Inside she saw changing rooms, showers and football things. There was no-one there.

She went on to an area of offices. There were lots of doors, but they were all locked. Everything was dark. Then she saw a light coming from under a door. Monika walked quietly up to the door. She could hear voices. Monika listened carefully. There were several men talking. It was hard to hear what they were saying. They were speaking English, but Monika was sure at least one of the men was foreign. ‘Perhaps Swedish,’ she thought.

Monika heard people moving in the room. Someone was coming to the door! There was nowhere to hide. If she ran away they would see her. The sound of someone walking towards the door became clearer. Monika turned. There was another door opposite and she ran over to it. The door wasn’t locked. She opened it and felt fresh air on her face. She was out in the car park.

She quickly closed the door and looked around. She saw some cars and a coach. The only light came from a high window. It was the room where the men were. Monika climbed on to one of the cars. Then she jumped from the car roof to the coach. The coach was next to the window. Moving carefully she went across the roof to the office window.

It was easy to see into the office from the coach roof. There were four men and one woman in the room. One man was sitting at a table. He was aged about fifty, and had lots of black hair. Sitting next to him was a tall man in sports clothes and trainers. He looked about thirty.

Standing near the desk were three people. The woman was in her early twenties. She had short blonde hair and was wearing jeans and a black jacket. Next to her was a man of the same age with a shaved head, also in jeans and a black jacket. He had his hand on the woman’s shoulder. The couple in black jackets were laughing.

They were laughing at something the fifth person was saying. He was much older, at least sixty. He had white hair, a white beard, a dark sun-tan, and was very fat.

‘Damn!’ Monika said to herself. ‘Now I can see them but I can’t hear them! I’m sure the couple in black jackets are Swedish. But who are the others?’

She watched and waited. The white-haired man and the young couple sat down at the table. The white-haired man took some papers and a map out of a bag. He talked to the others and pointed at the map.

‘I wish I could hear what he is saying,’ Monika thought. ‘And what country does the map show?’

Suddenly the man in sports clothes stood up. The others looked at him.

‘He’s seen me,’ Monika thought.

But the man hadn’t seen Monika. He walked over to the door and opened it. Another man walked into the room.

He went up to the table and shook hands with everyone. Then he started talking quickly. The others listened carefully.

Monika couldn’t believe her eyes. She knew the man who had just come into the room. It was Chapman!

Monika felt in her jeans pocket. She carefully took out a very small camera which looked like a cigarette lighter. Monika photographed the people in the room through the window. No-one saw her on the coach roof. No-one heard her jump down from the coach and run across the car park. No-one saw her climb the car park wall, and get out into the street outside the football stadium.

A taxi passed and Monika stopped it. ‘The Scandic Crown Hotel, please. Near Victoria Station.’

The next morning Monika got up early, and took the 7.15 SAS flight back to Stockholm. By one o’clock she was at the SMI offices. By two o’clock her photographs were ready. Monika looked at the photos carefully, and then made some phone calls. Then she took the photos with her to Blom’s office. She told Blom about her evening at Millham United’s stadium and showed him the photos.

‘I know who the two men at the table are now,’ Monika said. ‘I’ve just spoken to a football reporter on Dagens Nyheter. They are Harry Dixon, Chairman of Millham United, and Danny Worthington, the club’s manager. And of course you recognise Chapman. But I don’t know who the others are.’

Blom studied the photos for a minute. Then he looked up. ‘I’m pretty sure that the young man and woman are Kent Nystrom and Gunilla Lippich - both from Gothenburg and both members of a right-wing group. We’ll have to check.’

‘But what was Chapman doing there?’ Monika asked.

‘Perhaps he was finding out about the football team,’ Blom said slowly. ‘Perhaps he’s changed his mind about terrorists and football clubs.’

‘But he was telling them something,’ Monika replied. ‘He wasn’t listening.’

‘Let’s find out who the older man is,’ Blom said. ‘Then we’ll decide what to do.’

Monika left Blom’s office and went to the SMI information centre. She put a description of the white- haired man into a computer and waited. A minute later there was a list of names on the screen - it was a long list. Monika printed out the list and studied it. Then she went back to the computer and started work. She put in the names one by one and pictures appeared on the screen. The list of over two hundred names was in alphabetical order. It wasn’t until she got to the letter ‘V’ that Monika had some luck.

‘That’s him, I’m sure,’ she thought. She printed out the picture and some details and ran to Blom’s office.

‘The old man is Adolf Vitjord,’ Monika shouted excitedly. ‘He’s the leader of a South African right-wing party, now thought to be living part of the time in Mozambique.’

‘Well done!’ Blom replied with a big smile. ‘Now why were the football team manager and chairman meeting two young Swedes and a South African? And what has it got to do with the shooting of Carlsson?’

‘And what was Chapman doing there?’ Monika added.

‘Let’s ask Chapman himself,’ Blom said and picked up the phone. ‘Get me MI5 in London,’ he said quietly. ‘I want to speak to Mr Chapman.’