Joona Linna Crime Series Books 1 and 2: The Hypnotist, The Nightmare. Lars Kepler

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       58

       sunday, december 13 (feast of st lucia): afternoon

      Nicky fishes for something in his pocket, whispering to himself, then looks up at Kennet. “Wailord played a trick on me once when I had to pay,” he says, trying to smile. “He was just joking. They tricked me into eating something you’re not supposed to eat.”

      Kennet waits. Nicky blushes and fiddles with his zipper. His fingernails are dirty.

      “What did you eat?” asks Kennet.

      The boy’s cheeks quiver violently again. “I didn’t want to,” he replies, and a few tears trickle down his face.

      Kennet pats Nicky on the shoulder and tries to keep his voice calm and steady. “You know what it sounds like? It sounds like Wailord is really stupid.”

      “Stupid.”

      Kennet wonders what Nicky keeps fiddling with in his pocket. “I’m a police officer, you know that, and I say that nobody is allowed to do stupid things to you.”

      “You’re too old.”

      “But I’m strong.”

      Nicky looks more cheerful. “Can I have another Coke?”

      “If you want.”

      “Yes, please.”

      “What have you got in your pocket?” asks Kennet, feigning indifference.

      Nicky smiles. “It’s a secret.”

      “I see,” says Kennet, and refrains from asking any further.

      Nicky takes the bait. “Don’t you want to know what it is?”

      “Oh, no. I understand secrets. You couldn’t be a policeman for as long as I have without being able to keep a secret. You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to, Nicky.”

      “You’ll never guess what it is.”

      “I’m sure I couldn’t.”

      Nicky takes his hand out of his pocket. “I’ll tell you what it is.” He opens his fist. “It’s my power.”

      In Nicky’s hand lies a small lump of soil. Kennet looks inquiringly at the boy who simply smiles.

      “I am a ground-type Pokémon,” he says contentedly.

      “A ground-type Pokémon,” Kennet repeats.

      Nicky closes his fist and pushes it back in his pocket. “Do you know what my powers are?”

      Kennet shakes his head. Across the street, a man with a pointed head slowly passes the dark, damp façades of the buildings. He seems to be searching for something; he has a cane in his hand and is poking at the ground with it. Kennet automatically thinks that the man is trying to look in through the windows on the ground floor. He thinks he ought to go over and ask him what he’s doing. But Nicky has placed a hand on his arm.

      “Do you know what my powers are?” the boy says again.

      Kennet drags his gaze reluctantly away from the man. Nicky begins to count on his fingers.

      “I’m good against all electric Pokémons, fire Pokémons, poison Pokémons, rock Pokémons, and steel Pokémons. They can’t beat me; I’m safe when it comes to all of those. But I can’t fight flying Pokémons or grass-and-insect Pokémons.”

      “Really?” says Kennet distractedly. The man has stopped at one of the windows. Tucking his cane under his arm, he busily goes through his pockets, as if looking for a key or a match, but Kennet can see he’s actually leaning into the glass.

      “Are you listening?” Nicky asks anxiously.

      Kennet tries to smile encouragingly at him, but when he turns back to look, the man has disappeared. Kennet can’t make out whether the ground-floor window is open.

      “I can’t fight water,” Nicky explains sadly. “Water’s the worst. I can’t fight it. I’m scared of water.”

      Kennet carefully loosens Nicky’s grip on his arm. “Just hang on a minute,” he says, taking a few steps towards the curb.