computer geek was doing. As long as he could hack into the computer. Looked around. On the walls: posters from the first Star Wars movies. Might be originals. Luke Skywalker in a messianic pose, with the light saber pointed to the universe’s sky. Yoda with a cane and wrinkled face. Probably artsy pictures. Jorge’d never understood science fiction.
He thought about the girls at Smadalaro. Many of Eastern European origin. Like Nadja. Some’d spoken fluent Swedish. Other were regular Swedish chicks. The mix: Svens, blattes, Asians. He understood the imported Eastern women. They were living in the country illegally. Were on drugs. Lived under constant threat from their pimps. They didn’t have much choice. But the others? How’d they ended up in the shit?
Richard started explaining. “I can’t do it. The info you want is on the hard drive. I’ve tried to reinstall Windows XP, which is the operating system on this computer, from my own CD. The user name and password are just parts of the operating system, so if I installed a new one, those would disappear, I thought. The problem is that the system’s somehow encrypted the info on the hard drive. Installing Windows won’t cut it. I have to decrypt. Could take a while.”
“How long?”
“Well, I don’t have the programs to do it here at home. I have to download them. Play around a little. Need three, four weeks maybe.”
“You really can’t get it any faster?”
“I don’t know. I’ve got a lot do in school right now.”
Jorge thought, Might as well kiss this computer geek’s ass a little. He said, “Do the best you can. I’ll pay good.”
Richard closed the laptop.
“You were gonna look at some pictures, too,” Jorge said.
They surfed up Jorge’s Hotmail account. Downloaded the photos.
Richard opened an Adobe imaging system.
Chose File/Open.
Five pictures popped up on the screen.
The first: Sven Bolinder in an armchair with a young girl on his lap. In profile.
The second: a man in another armchair. A girl sat on the armrest. They were kissing.
Third photo: the back of a man making out with a girl against the wall. No face. Fuck.
Fourth: same man against the wall. His face peeked out from behind the girl’s shoulder. Broad smile.
Last one: a fourth man next to an armchair. A girl on her knees in the armchair, one hand over the man’s pants, over his cock. He was smiling.
All the photos: terrible quality. Looked like Jorge’d photographed fuzzy ghosts.
Richard zoomed in on the pictures. “What the hell is this?”
Jorge wasn’t sure-did the computer geek mean he couldn’t tell what the pictures were of, or was he shocked because he did see what the pictures were of?
“Pictures that I need to make clearer. I guess I’m the only one who can see what’s going on in them now, huh?”
“Jorge. What’re you doing, exactly?” Richard’s eyes were wide.
“Relax. I’m no private eye, if that’s what you think. I don’t even know who these old guys are. It’s nothing bad. Just help me out.”
Richard muttered. Turned back to the screen. Started clicking on the program’s icons and the images.
He fiddled. Changed the exposure. Tested different resolutions, pixel qualities, rendering, contrasts. Enlarged the pictures, changed the color tone, retouched blurred bits.
Worked keenly.
An hour passed.
Jorge wondered how long it would take.
Richard didn’t seem to understand. “This? This’ll take all night. Once I’ve started, I don’t stop.”
Jorge got the hint. Thanked him, excused himself.
They were gonna be in touch the next day at lunchtime.
He left.
Walked down Lundagatan.
In the subway on the way home: thoughts. The nasty, fancy gold guys weren’t satisfied with their lives. Had to fuck teenage whores to feel good. Sven hypocrisy demasked. The blatte world was more honest. Immigrant Sweden was better. That night, for some reason, he slept okay.
The next day at twelve-thirty, the computer geek called.
“Did you fix the photos?”
“Hell yeah. Looks like they were taken with a three-megapixel camera with flash, at least.”
“And.”
“I’ve run the pictures though some databases. Thought you might like that.”
“Databases?”
“Yup. Don’t you wanna know who the old guys are?”
More than Jorge’d expected. He felt goose bumps rise on his skin.
This was big.
Richard went on: “The guy with the chick in his lap, that’s Sven Bolinder, the chairman of the board and CEO of one of Sweden’s biggest publicly traded companies. The guy kissing, that’s the heir to a company. Don’t think you’d know it, but it’s huge. The oldie against the wall with that nerdy-ass smile is buds with the king and a real high roller. Finally, the guy getting his dick massaged, he was the easiest. That’s a Wallstrom.”
Jorge had no idea about the companies Richard’d listed. Big business wasn’t his specialty, at least not the legal kind.
But he clocked the basics-they were big-timers.
He and Richard made arrangements. Jorge was gonna go there and pick up the photos in altered form.
He threw himself out of the apartment. Ran toward the commuter rail station.
J-boy: like he’d always said-king of kings. Finance men/brokers/CEOs-beware. Jorgelito: blatte of blattes you’ll wish you’d never met.
Some sort of victory was within reach.
PART 3
Two months later.
Svensk Damtidning
The Princess’s Birthday-Glamour Party for the Young Creme de la Creme
By: Britt Bonde
Photography by: Henrik Olsson
Princess Madeleine’s birthday celebration at the Solliden Palace on June 10 was the natural early-summer high point for the city’s glamorous set. The party was, of course, arranged by Stureplan’s new favorite, Carl Malmer, known to his friends as “Jet Set Carl,” party planner and personal friend of the princess. Dad, the king, and Mom, the queen, were there, as well as the young creme de la creme of Stockholm’s high society. The guests enjoyed champagne and an Italian buffet, after which they danced up a storm to E-Type, who played a special birthday concert. The princess was radiant in her early-summer and perpetually even “Saint-Tropez tan,” with boyfriend Jonas at her side. Crown Princess Victoria offered congratulations and bestowed her gift upon little sis-a custom- embossed doghouse, model Mini One, designed by artist Ernst Billgren. All the princess’s friends spent a long night together, and at the stroke of midnight a snack was served, the classic national specialty, Jansson’s Temptation. After that, the baby princess and her entourage continued to have fun all night long!
The princess’s friends Sophie Pihl and Anna Rosensvard were, as always, in high party spirits.
Carl Malmer, Jet Set Carl, was accompanied by (girl?)friend Charlotta “Lollo” Nordlander. Carl planned the party.
