Joona Linna Crime Series Books 1 and 2: The Hypnotist, The Nightmare. Lars Kepler
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opens his eyes. Joona waits, observing his face.
“There’s been an accident,” says Josef. “My whole family was in an accident.”
“Hasn’t anybody told you what’s happened?” asks Joona.
“Maybe a little,” he says faintly.
“He refuses to see a psychologist or a counsellor,” says the social worker.
Joona thinks about how different Josef’s voice was under hypnosis. Now it is suddenly fragile, almost non-existent, yet pensive.
“I think you know what’s happened.”
“You don’t have to answer that,” Lisbet Carlén says quickly.
“You’re fifteen years old now,” Joona goes on.
“Yes.”
“What did you do on your birthday?”
“Can’t remember,” says Josef.
“Did you get any presents?”
“I watched TV,” Josef replies.
“Did you go to see Evelyn?” Joona asks in a neutral tone.
“Yes.”
“At her apartment?”
“Yes.”
“Was she there?”
“Yes.” Silence. “No, she wasn’t,” says Josef hesitantly, changing his mind.
“Where was she, then?”
“At the cottage,” he replies.
“Is it nice there?”
“Not really … It’s cosy, I guess.”
“Was she happy to see you?”
“Who?”
“Evelyn.” Silence. “Did you take anything with you?”
“A cake.”
“A cake? Was it good?”
He nods.
“Did Evelyn like it?” Joona goes on.
“Only the best for Evelyn,” he says.
“Did she give you a present?”
“No.”
“But maybe she sang to you.”
“She didn’t want to give me my present,” he says, in an injured tone.
“Is that what she said?”
“Yes, she did,” he answers quickly.
“Why?” Silence. “Was she angry with you?” asks Joona.
He nods.
“Was she trying to get you to do something you didn’t want to do?” asks Joona calmly.
“No, she—” Josef whispers the rest.
“I can’t hear you, Josef.”
He continues to whisper, and Joona leans close, trying to hear the words. “That fucking bastard!” Josef yells in his ear.
Joona jumps back and rubs his ear as he walks around the bed. He tries to smile.
Josef’s face is ash-grey. “I’m going to find that fucking hypnotist and bite his throat; I’m going to hunt him down, him and his—”
The social worker moves over to the bed quickly and tries to switch off the tape recorder. “Josef! You have the right to remain silent—”
“Keep out of this,” Joona interrupts.
She looks at him with an agitated expression and says in a trembling voice, “Before the interview began, you should have informed—”
“Wrong. There are no laws governing this kind of interrogation,” says Joona, raising his voice. “He has the right to remain silent, that’s true, but I am not obliged to inform him of that right.”
“In that case, I apologise.”
“No problem,” mumbles Joona, turning back to Josef. “Why are you angry with the hypnotist?”
“I don’t have to answer your questions,” says Josef, attempting to point at the social worker.
31
friday, december 11: morning
Erik runs down the stairs and through the door. He stops outside and feels the sweat cooling on his back. A chill is in the air; not far away, a man sleeps under a thick mound of blankets. After a moment of indecisiveness, he walks slowly up toward Odenplan and sits down on a bench outside the library. He feels sick with fear. How can he be so stupid, pushing Simone away because he feels hurt?
After a while, Erik gets up and sets off for home, stopping to buy bread at the stone oven bakery and a caffè macchiato for Simone. He hurries back and, not wanting to wait for the lift, jogs up the stairs, but as soon as he unlocks the door he realises the apartment is empty. With effort, Erik pushes aside the feeling of desolation the empty apartment fills him with. No matter what, he intends to prove to Simone that she can trust him. However long it takes, he will convince her once again. He thinks this, then drinks her coffee standing up in the kitchen; no sense letting it go to waste. It upsets his stomach, and he takes a Prilosec.
It is still only nine o’clock in the morning, and his shift at the hospital doesn’t start for several hours. He takes a book to the bedroom with him and lies on top of the unmade bed in his stockinged feet. But instead of reading, he starts to think about Josef Ek; he wonders if Joona Linna will be able to get anything out of him.
The apartment is silent, deserted. A gentle calm spreads through his stomach from the medication.
Nothing that is said under hypnosis can be used as evidence, but Erik knows Josef was telling the truth about having killed his family, even if the actual motive is invisible. He closes his eyes. Evelyn must have known her brother was dangerous from an early age. Over the years she learned to live with his inability to control his impulses, gauging the risk of inciting his violent rage against her desire to live normally and independently. The family as a whole would have dealt with his violence, gradually making hundreds of infinitesimal adjustments and compromises in an effort to live with his hostility and keep it at bay. But nothing discouraged his impulses: not discipline, not punishment, not appeasement. They never really appreciated the seriousness of the situation. His mother and father might have thought that his aggressive behaviour was simply because he was a boy. Possibly they blamed themselves for letting him play brutal video games or watch slasher films.
Evelyn had escaped as soon as she could, found a job and a place of her own, but she’d sensed the increasing threat and was suddenly so afraid that she hid herself away in her aunt’s cottage, carrying a gun to protect herself.
Had Josef threatened her?
Erik tries to imagine Evelyn’s fear in the darkness at night in the cottage, with the loaded gun by her bed. He thinks about what Joona Linna told him after interviewing her. What happened when Josef turned up with a cake? What did he want from her? How did she feel? Was it only then that she became afraid and got the gun? Was it after his visit that she began to live with the fear that he would kill her?
Erik pictures Evelyn as she appeared on the day he met her at the cottage: a young woman in a silver-coloured down vest, a grey knitted sweater, scruffy jeans, and running shoes. She is walking through the trees, her ponytail swinging; her face is open, childlike. She carries the shotgun lazily, dragging it along the ground, bouncing it gently over the blueberry bushes and moss as the sun filters down through the branches of the pine trees.
Suddenly Erik realises something