He was seated at an outside table near the entrance. I took the seat opposite him. A large glass of fresh squeezed orange juice and a plate of smoked salmon before him.

“Why did you choose the Schweizer? And how did you get them to open up for us?”

“Open up? They weren’t closed. Look around everything is perfectly fine here. “

He was right. The streets of Gamla Stan are as full as they usually are at 11 in the morning. Not like New York, or Paris, or Milan, or anywhere else in the western world.

“I counted on the fact you would be staying nearby. A few short steps from here no doubt.” He sat back in his chair, smiling. “How many miles did you trek before you decided it was safe to approach? No observers, I trust.”

“None. Unless they followed you.”

“You know better than that my dear.”

“From what I hear, Professor, retirement hasn’t slowed you one bit.”

“Retirement? My schedule the last six months paints a different picture. Still, no one here will listen.”

He looked up, slowly took a sip of the orange juice and looked at me.

“What’s on your mind, Lena? Why are you in Stockholm? It’s a long way from Froggy Bottom.”

“I should think it obvious. I need your help, Professor. Why else would I be here?”