The Tomorrow Heist Read Online Free PDF Page A

stopping him. Hank looked surprised that Per wasn’t as weak as he appeared. It was a look Per was well acquainted with.
    â€œTell Mr. Harcourt I hope he solves his mystery. Now please back up,” Per said.
    â€œAll right, all right,” Hank said. “I won’t look in it. Can you at least leave it in the car?”
    â€œYes, that would be acceptable,” Per said. He placed his briefcase on the passenger seat and rejoined Hank.
    â€œShould I bother to try to frisk you?” Hank asked with a smirk.
    â€œIt would not be wise,” Per said flatly.
    â€œHuh. You’re an odd one, ain’t cha?”
    â€œThat would be an accurate assessment, yes.”
    They climbed into the helicopter, buckled themselves in, and, a few moments later, they were airborne. Per sat straight in his seat, neither looking out the window nor avoiding the view. He simply wasn’t interested in it. What he was interested in was why his new employer hadn’t been here to meet Per himself.
    â€œMr. Harcourt doesn’t leave the house much these days,” Hank said, apparently anticipating Per’s question. “He’s taking these attacks personally. But you can’t really blame him.”
    Per nodded slightly and waited for more information.
    â€œTo be honest, he thinks someone is trying to kill him. Figgers the words left behind is just a smoke screen to draw him out.”
    Per raised an eyebrow and turned to look at Hank. This was why he was here.
    â€œAnd what do you think, Mr. Green?” Per asked.
    â€œMe?” Hank said, surprised. “Hell, I ain’t paid to think!” He slapped Per’s shoulder as he laughed a loud, hacking laugh.
    Per believed him.
    Thirty minutes later, a large, ranch-­style house appeared on the horizon, surrounded by a barn and a corral filled with horses. They landed in the front yard as workers fought to control the spooked horses. Per followed Hank out and up to the front door.
    Hank started to open the door, but then stopped and turned to Per, concern in his eyes.
    â€œYou have to help him, Broden. It was all I could do to get him to meet with someone. He’s a real mess. I may work for him, but he’s the best friend I ever had, and it kills me that I can’t do nothin’ for him.”
    Per waited, then realized they weren’t going to pass through the door until he responded verbally.
    â€œI’ll do what I can, Mr. Green,” Per said. It was the truth. Per was actually incapable of doing any less. But truth be told, he couldn’t care less about a rich Texan’s sudden phobias. He was here for one thing and one thing only—­the puzzle.
    As a child in Stockholm, Per’s brother Peter had been kidnapped by a serial killer. The killer taunted Per’s family for weeks with riddles and unsolvable clues. In the end, his brother was killed. Per had thought at the time that if he’d just been smarter, more clever, better at puzzles, he could have saved Peter. Despite reassurances from his parents, the authorities, and several therapists over the years, Per still blamed himself for Peter’s death.
    Since then, he’d spent his life solving puzzles; first for the police and now freelance as an investigator. Per would never let himself feel that way again. He’d rather die than fail.
    Every time Per solved a case, he felt like he’d made an atonement to his murdered brother. A drop in a bucket that would never be full.
    Per followed Hank into the house, and he suddenly felt like he was only a few kilometers from home. Despite the mansion’s exterior, the interior was decorated in classic European designs rather than what one expected of a Texas estate. The space was immense, easily fifteen meters high with an expanse more like an auditorium than a living room. The floor was cream-­colored marble, brown diamond shapes inset where the large tiles met. The furnishings were green and