The Sandman. Ларс Кеплер

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СКАЧАТЬ You have to realise, even if Legionella was mentioned in the other reports, that doesn’t mean that Mikael was one of Jurek Walter’s victims.’

      ‘So there were Legionella bacteria?’

      ‘Yes, I found antibodies against the bacteria in the boy’s blood, so he’d probably had Pontiac fever,’ Åhlén says with a sigh. ‘I know you want to be right, Joona, but nothing you’ve said is enough to—’

      ‘Mikael Kohler-Frost says he met Rebecka,’ Joona interrupts.

      ‘Rebecka Mendel?’ Åhlén asks with a tremble in his voice.

      ‘They were held captive together,’ Joona confirms.

      There is a long silence, then: ‘So … so you were right about everything, Joona,’ Åhlén says, sounding as if he’s about to start crying. ‘You’ve no idea how relieved I am to hear that.’

      He gulps hard down the phone, and whispers that they did the right thing after all.

      ‘Yes,’ Joona says, in a lonely voice.

      He and Åhlén had done the right thing when they arranged the car-crash for Joona’s wife and daughter.

      Two dead bodies were cremated and buried in place of Lumi and Summa. Using fake dental records, Åhlén had identified the bodies. He believed Joona, and trusted him, but it had been such a big decision, so momentous, that he has never stopped worrying about it.

      Joona daren’t leave the hospital until two uniformed officers arrive to guard Mikael’s room. On his way out along the corridor he calls Nathan Pollock and says they need to send someone to pick up the man’s father.

      ‘I’m sure it’s Mikael,’ he says. ‘And I’m sure he’s been held captive by Jurek Walter all these years.’

      He gets in the car and slowly drives away from the hospital as the windscreen wipers clear the snow aside.

      Mikael Kohler-Frost was ten years old when he disappeared – and he was twenty-three when he managed to escape.

      Sometimes prisoners manage to escape, like Elisabeth Fritzl in Austria, who escaped after twenty-four years as a sex-slave in her father’s cellar. Or Natascha Kampusch, who fled her kidnapper after eight years.

      Joona can’t help thinking that, like Elisabeth Fritzl and Natascha Kampusch, Mikael must have seen the man holding him captive. Suddenly a conclusion to all this seems possible. In just a few days, as soon as he is well enough, Mikael ought to be able to show the way to the place where he was held captive for so long.

      The car’s tyres rumble as Joona crosses the ridge of snow in the middle of the road to overtake a bus. As he drives past the Palace of Nobility the city opens up in front of him once more, with heavy snow falling between the dark sky and the swirling black water below the bridge.

      Obviously the accomplice must know that Mikael has escaped and can identify him, Joona thinks. Presumably he has already tried to cover his tracks and switch to a new hiding place, but if Mikael can lead them to where he was held captive, Forensics would be able to find some sort of evidence and the hunt would be on again.

      There’s a long way to go, but Joona’s heart is already beating faster in his chest.

      The thought is so overwhelming that he has to pull over to the side of Vasa Bridge and stop the car. Another driver blows his horn irritably. Joona gets out of his car and steps up onto the pavement, breathing the cold air deep into his lungs.

      A sudden burst of migraine makes him stumble and he grabs the railing for support. He closes his eyes for a moment, waits, and feels the pain ebb away before he opens his eyes again.

      Millions and millions of white snowflakes are flying through the air, vanishing on the dark water as if they had never existed.

      It’s too early to dare to think the thought, but he is well aware of what this means. His body feels weighed down by the realisation. If he manages to catch the accomplice, there will no longer be any threat to Summa and Lumi.

       35

      It’s too hot to talk in the sauna. Gold-coloured light is shining on their naked bodies and the pale sandalwood. It’s 97 degrees now and the air burns Reidar Frost’s lungs when he breathes in. Drops of sweat are falling from his nose onto the white hair on his chest.

      The Japanese journalist, Mizuho, is sitting on the bench next to Veronica. Their bodies are both flushed and shiny. Sweat is running between their breasts, over their stomachs and down into their pubic hair.

      Mizuho is looking seriously at Reidar. She has come all the way from Tokyo to interview him. He told her good-naturedly that he never gives interviews, but that she was very welcome to attend the party. She was probably hoping he would say something about the Sanctum series being turned into a manga film. She has been here four days now.

      Veronica sighs and closes her eyes for a while.

      Mizuho didn’t take off her gold necklace before entering the sauna, and Reidar can see that it’s starting to burn. Marie only lasted five minutes before she went off to the shower, and now the Japanese journalist leaves the sauna as well.

      Veronica leans forward and rests her elbows on her knees, breathing through her half-open mouth as sweat drips from her nipples.

      Reidar feels a sort of brittle tenderness towards her. But he doesn’t know how to explain the desolate landscape inside him, and that everything he does now, everything he throws himself into, is just random fumbling for something to help him survive the next minute.

      ‘Marie’s very beautiful,’ Veronica says.

      ‘Yes.’

      ‘Big breasts.’

      ‘Stop it,’ Reidar mutters.

      She looks at him with a serious expression as she goes on:

      ‘Why can’t I just get a divorce …?’

      ‘Because that would be the end for us,’ Reidar says.

      Veronica’s eyes fill with tears and she is about to say something else when Marie comes back in and sits down next to Reidar with a little giggle.

      ‘God, it’s hot,’ she gasps. ‘How can you sit here?’

      Veronica throws a scoop of water onto the stones. There’s a loud hiss and hot clouds of steam rise up and surround them for a few seconds. Then the heat becomes dry and static again.

      Reidar is hanging forward over his knees. The hair on his head is so hot he almost scalds himself when he runs his hand through it.

      ‘No, that’s enough,’ he gasps, and climbs down.

      The two women follow him out into the soft snow. Dusk is spreading its darkness across the snow, which is already glowing pale blue.

      Heavy СКАЧАТЬ