"You're fucking crazy," said Stefan Sonberg. He glared at Sven, and repeated:
"Fucking crazy!"
Sven said nothing. They were standing in Sven's former study, converted into an office. A window afforded a view of the army Volvo Sonberg had arrived in. Its uniformed driver was sitting behind the wheel. He seemed totally engrossed in the difficult task of pulling out carefully selected hairs from his nostrils, assisted by the rear-view mirror. He looked totally moronic to Sven.
Sven turned to face Sonberg, and said:
"Can you tell me again what happened? I want to take notes."
He walked across the study, and sat down at one of the two desks. Atop the desk stood a treasure: an ancient Macintosh Color Classic that actually worked. It was the property of a newly recruited Viking who was also a computer nut. He had hidden it in a special chest thirty years earlier, confidently expecting it to fetch millions of dollars at some point in the future.
