Apparently I’ve got a safe-deposit box here?” She held out the letter and her driver’s license to the man behind the counter. She was in a small reception area behind an anonymous door right next to Sergel’s Square in the center of the city. She must have walked past it a thousand times without ever noticing it. A buzzer and an entry phone, a reception desk, and one solitary man in a suit. Behind him a short flight of steps led down to a dark steel door. It all would have looked perfectly innocent if it hadn’t been for the unobtrusive little round cameras in the ceiling. Five of them, exactly the same sort as in Police Headquarters, which had to be at least three more than necessary. Every point in the room was covered from at least two angles. “You need to use your card . . .” “Sorry?” “Your pass card . . . To get into the vault you need to use your pass card,” the man explained, gesturing backward with his thumb at the metal door behind him. “It also opens the right section of the vault.
