He pauses, perhaps to give me the chance to speak. I don’t.
When you have a secret to keep…
“It's my job to follow up on things that don’t smell right, so I ran a security check on you…”
“Oh.” I slump, letting my head hang.
… Let them think they have found it…
He reads; “Gunnar Zetterberg, sentenced to fifteen years in prison for assault with a deadly weapon, aggravated assault, robbery… The list goes on. Served eight years with remission for good behaviour.”
He flips the file closed. “You going to tell me that’s not you? There’s another Gunnar Zetterberg roaming the world somewhere?”
I don’t look up, simply swinging my head.
“Didn’t think so. It’s an unusual enough name that it didn’t take too much to track down your record.” He sits back, steepling his fingers. “Just as well you
