Bubble: A Thriller Read Online Free PDF

imagined someone was about to come out.
    He quickly closed the door behind him and then put his eye to the peephole, but his new neighbor must have had a change of heart because nothing happened.
    Oh well, sooner or later they were bound to bump into each other. Right now he had other things to think about. Considerably more important things . . .
    The cops evidently hadn’t found the USB memory stick he had hidden in a jar of coffee in the kitchen, but otherwise the flat looked pretty much as he had expected. Every drawer had been emptied, the shelves cleared, and the stained mattress on the bed turned upside down.
    Some of his things were missing, he knew that already. He had been given a copy of the list of items they had seized before he was turfed out of the police station. The only question was how much wiser the cops would be after examining a few dog-eared paperbacks and a collection of action films. Not to mention his extensive collection of adult movies . . .
    As luck would have it, he hadn’t had any dope in the flat for months, he could hardly even remember the last time he smoked a joint. Must have been in Dubai after that fake Frenchman-slash-hitman had given him a bad trip and then tried to frame him for the murder of sex goddess Anna Argos.
    These days he steered clear of dope—he was paranoid enough as it was.
    He spent ten minutes clearing up the worst of the mess, then threw himself down on the bed.
    ♦  ♦  ♦
    “Oh, a letter came for you, by the way,” Micke said when he and Rebecca had almost finished eating. “Something about a safe-deposit box . . .”
    She started, but he seemed to misinterpret her reaction.
    “Sorry, I didn’t mean to open your mail. I just saw the SEB bank logo on the envelope and assumed it must be for me. I’ve just got a bit too much on my mind right now . . .”
    “Don’t worry,” she muttered. “I’ve got no secrets from you . . .”
    . . . anymore, a little voice inside her head added, and to judge by Micke’s reaction he must have heard it as well.
    He stood up quickly and came back with the torn-open envelope.
    Dear Rebecca Normén ,
    The contract regarding safe-deposit box 0679406948, listing you as one of the key holders, is about to expire.
    Please contact our branch at 6 Sveavägen in Stockholm to discuss the extension of the contract.
    If we fail to hear from you within thirty (30) days from the date of this letter, the box will be opened in the presence of a public notary and the contents stored by the bank for a further sixty (60) days. After that the contents will be disposed of at auction and any eventual profit, minus a handling charge, will be placed in a bank account in the names of the key holders.
    Yours faithfully,
    L. Helander
    SEB
    “I thought safe-deposit boxes disappeared years ago,” Micke said in an exaggeratedly amused voice. “A tin box hidden in an underground vault feels like a pretty old-fashioned way to store valuables. More the sort of thing my parents or grandparents would do. I didn’t know you had one . . . ?”
    “Nor did I,” she muttered.
    He opened his mouth to say something but seemed to change his mind.
    “So what do you want to do?” he asked a few seconds later.
    “W-what?” She looked up from the letter.
    “It’s Friday evening, and just for once we’re both off at the same time. How about the movies?”
    “Don’t you want to work? I thought you were up to your neck . . . ?”
    “I am, but it can wait till tomorrow. Clooney’s new one looks interesting.”
    He was still acting with exaggerated cheerfulness, but neither his tone of voice nor his smile convinced her. Okay, so they had talked through everything. She had told him the least hurtful details about her affair with her colleague Tobbe Lundh, and Micke had said that he forgave her. That he believed her assurance that the whole thing had been a stupid mistake and that he was the one she loved.
    But even though six