The Fire Witness. Ларс Кеплер

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СКАЧАТЬ when Lisa Jern assures her that it isn’t true, that the superintendent was just joking.

      Tuula folds her arms even tighter, stares at the table, and blows out her cheeks.

      ‘You’re definitely not thick,’ Lisa Jern repeats after a while.

      ‘Yes I am,’ Tuula whispers.

      She spits a gob of saliva onto the table, then sits there silently poking at it and making it into a star shape.

      ‘Don’t you want to talk?’ Lisa whispers.

      ‘Only to the Finn,’ Tuula says almost inaudibly.

      ‘What did you just say?’ she asks with a smile.

      ‘I’ll only talk to the Finn,’ Tuula says, raising her chin.

      ‘How lovely,’ the psychologist replies stiffly.

      Joona starts the recording, then calmly goes through the formalities, time and location, the names of those present, and the purpose of the conversation.

      ‘How did you end up at the Birgitta Home, Tuula?’ he asks.

      ‘I was at Lövsta … A few things happened that weren’t that fucking great,’ she says, and lowers her gaze. ‘I got caught up with some kids who got locked up, even though I’m really too young … I kept my cool, watched television, and one year and four months later I got moved to the Birgitta Home.’

      ‘What’s the difference … compared with Lövsta?’

      ‘It’s … the Birgitta Home feels like a proper home … Rugs on the floor, the furniture’s not screwed down … And there aren’t locks and alarms everywhere … And you get left to sleep in peace, and have home-cooked food.’

      Joona nods, and sees from the corner of his eye that the responsible adult is still fiddling with his phone. The psychologist, Lisa Jern, is breathing through her nose as she listens to them.

      ‘What did you have to eat yesterday?’

      ‘Tacos,’ Tuula replies.

      ‘Was everyone there for dinner?’

      She shrugs.

      ‘I think so.’

      ‘Miranda too? She had tacos yesterday evening as well?’

      ‘Can’t you just cut her stomach open and check? Haven’t you done that yet?’

      ‘No, we haven’t.’

      ‘Why not?’

      ‘We haven’t had time.’

      Tuula smiles, and starts to pull at a loose thread on her trousers. Her nails have been bitten ragged, and her cuticles are torn.

      ‘I looked in the isolation room – it was pretty full-on,’ Tuula says, and starts to rock backwards and forwards.

      ‘Did you see the way Miranda was lying?’ Joona asks after a while.

      ‘Yes, like this,’ Tuula says quickly, and puts her hands in front of her face.

      ‘Why do you think she was doing that?’

      Tuula kicks up the edge of the rug, then flattens it again.

      ‘Maybe she was frightened.’

      ‘Have you seen anyone else do that?’ Joona asks lightly.

      ‘No,’ Tuula says, and scratches her neck.

      ‘You don’t get locked in your rooms, then?’

      ‘It’s kind of like an open prison,’ Tuula smiles.

      ‘Do people often sneak out at night?’

      ‘I don’t.’

      Tuula’s mouth becomes small and hard, and she pretends to fire her forefinger at the psychologist.

      ‘Why not?’ Joona asks.

      She looks him in the eye and says quietly: ‘I’m scared of the dark.’

      ‘What about the others?’

      Joona sees Lisa Jern standing there listening to them with an irritable frown between her eyebrows.

      ‘Yes,’ Tuula whispers.

      ‘What do they do when they sneak out?’

      The girl looks down and smiles to herself.

      ‘They’re older than you, aren’t they?’ Joona goes on.

      ‘Yes,’ she replies, and blushes.

      ‘Do they meet boys?’

      She nods.

      ‘Does Vicky do that too?’

      ‘Yes, she sneaks out at night,’ Tuula says, and leans closer to Joona.

      ‘Do you know who she goes to see?’

      ‘Dennis.’

      ‘Who’s that?’

      ‘I don’t know,’ she whispers, and licks her lips.

      ‘But his name is Dennis? Do you know his surname?’

      ‘No.’

      ‘How long is she usually gone?’

      Tuula shrugs her shoulders and picks at a piece of tape that’s hanging from the seat of her chair.

       31

      The prosecutor, Susanne Öst, is waiting outside the Hotel Ibis beside a large Ford Fairlane. Her face is round and free from make-up. She’s got her blonde hair in a ponytail, and is dressed in long grey trousers and a smart grey jacket. It looks as if she’s been scratching her neck hard, and one wing of her shirt collar is sticking up.

      ‘Do you have any objections to me pretending to be a police officer for a while?’ she asks, and blushes.

      ‘On the contrary,’ Joona says, shaking her hand.

      ‘We’re busy knocking on doors, looking in garages, barns, car parks and so on,’ she says seriously. ‘We’re closing the net, there aren’t that many places you can hide a car …’

      ‘No.’

      ‘But obviously it’ll go a bit quicker now we’ve got a name,’ she smiles, and opens the front door of the big Ford. ‘There are four men called Dennis in СКАЧАТЬ