‘I don’t give a damn about that,’ she cuts him off.
‘So that you can have a functional witness later on,’ he concludes.
‘How much later? Will he be able to say anything later today?’
‘I think he’s going to realise what happened fairly quickly, but talking about it is another matter.’
‘So what happened? What did he say? He must have said something, surely?’
‘Yes, but-’
‘No fucking oath of confidentiality bollocks now,’ she interrupts. ‘I have to know, otherwise people will die.’
Erik goes over to the window and leans on the sill. Far below a patient is standing smoking, thin and bent-backed in his hospital gown.
‘I took him back,’ Erik says slowly. ‘Into the house… it was rather complicated, because it was very recent, and full of fragments of terrible memories.’
‘But he saw everything… could he see everything?’
‘It was only to make him understand that he couldn’t have saved her.’
‘But he saw the murder scene, and his wife? Did he?’
‘Yes, he did,’ Erik replies.
‘So what did he say?’
‘Not much… he talked about blood… and the wounds to her face.’
‘Was she in a particular position? A posture with sexual implications?’
‘He didn’t say.’
‘Was she sitting up or lying down? How did her mouth look, where were her hands? Was she naked? Violated?’
‘He said very little,’ Erik replies. ‘It can take a long time to reach details of that sort…’
‘I swear, if he doesn’t start talking I’ll take him into custody,’ she says in a loud voice. ‘I’ll drag him off to headquarters and watch him like a hawk until-’
‘Margot,’ Erik interrupts in a friendly voice.
She looks at him with a subdued expression, nods and breathes through her mouth, then pulls out a business card and puts it down on his desk.
‘We don’t know who his next victim’s going to be. It could be your wife. Think about that,’ she says, and leaves the room.
Erik feels his face relax. He walks slowly back to his desk. The floor is starting to feel soft beneath his feet. As he sits down in front of his computer there’s a knock on the door.
‘Yes?’
‘That charming superintendent has left the building,’ Nelly says, peering round the door.
‘She’s only trying to do her job.’
‘I know, she doesn’t really seem too bad…’
‘Stop it,’ he says, but can’t help smiling.
‘No, but she was pretty funny,’ Nelly says and laughs.
Erik rests his head on his hand and she turns serious and walks in, closes the door behind her and looks at him.
‘What is it?’ she asks. ‘What’s happened?’
‘Nothing,’ he replies.
‘Tell me,’ she insists, sitting down on the corner of his desk.
Her red woollen dress crackles with static electricity against her nylon tights as she crosses her legs.
‘I don’t know,’ Erik sighs.
‘What’s up with you?’ she laughs.
Erik stands up, takes a deep breath and looks at her.
‘Nelly,’ he says, and she can hear how empty his voice sounds. ‘I need to ask you about a patient… Before you started working here, Nina Blom put together a team for a complicated research project.’
‘Go on,’ she says, looking at him with obvious curiosity.
‘I know I outlined my cases to you, but this may not have been included, I mean…’
‘What’s the patient’s name?’ she asks calmly.
‘Rocky Kyrklund – do you remember him?’
‘Yes, hang on,’ she says tentatively.
‘He was a priest.’
‘Exactly, I remember, you talked about him quite a lot,’ she says as she thinks. ‘You had a file of pictures from the crime scene, and-’
‘You don’t remember where he ended up?’ he interrupts.
‘That was years ago,’ she replies.
‘He’s still inside, though, isn’t he?’
‘We’d better hope so,’ she replied. ‘He’d killed people, after all, hadn’t he?’
‘A woman.’ Erik nods.
‘That’s right, now I remember. Her whole face was destroyed.’
17
Nelly stands behind Erik as he makes his way through the patient database on his computer. He types Rocky Kyrklund’s name, searches, and discovers that he was sent to Karsudden District Hospital.
‘Karsudden,’ he says quietly.
She brushes a strand of blonde hair from her cheek and looks at him, her eyes narrowing.
‘Do you want to tell me why we’re talking about this patient?’
‘Rocky Kyrklund’s victim had been posed. You won’t remember, but she was lying on the floor with her face horribly disfigured, and her hand round her neck… I’ve just hypnotised Björn Kern, and… and he described details that were very reminiscent of the old murder.’
‘The one committed by the priest?’
‘I don’t know, but Björn Kern said his wife’s face had been completely destroyed… and that she was sitting with her hand over her ear.’
‘What do the police say?’
‘I don’t know,’ Erik mutters.
‘I mean, you did tell that… lovely pregnant lady?’
‘I didn’t tell her anything.’ Erik says.
‘You didn’t?’ she asks, a sceptical smile playing at the corners of her mouth.
‘Because it emerged while he was under hypnosis, and-’
‘But he wanted to talk, didn’t he?’
‘I might have misheard,’ Erik says.
‘Misheard?’ she laughs.
‘It’s just so sick – I can’t think clearly any more.’
‘Erik, it probably isn’t important, but you have to tell the police, that’s why they’re here,’ Nelly says gently.
He walks over to the window. The area where the patients stand and smoke is empty now. But he can still see the cigarette butts and sweet wrappers that have been tossed on the ground, and a blue shoe-cover that’s been pushed into the ashtray.
‘It’s a long time ago, but to me… Do you know what those weeks were like? I didn’t want Rocky to be released,’ Erik says slowly. ‘It was everything… the brutality, the eyes, the hands…’
‘I know I read all about it,’ Nelly says. ‘I don’t remember the details of your recommendation, but I know you said he was seriously bloody dangerous and that there was a severe risk of a relapse.’
‘What if he’s out? I’ve got to call Karsudden,’ Erik says, then picks up his phone, checks his computer, and dials the number for Simon Casillas, the senior consultant in charge.
Nelly sits down on Erik’s sofa while he talks to the doctor, and smiles at him when he looks at her as he exchanges the usual pleasantries and when he ends the conversation by repeating that the consultant’s article in Swedish Psychiatry really was excellent.
The sun passes behind a cloud and darkness falls across the room, as if a huge figure were standing in front of the building.
‘Rocky is still in Ward D:4,’ Erik says. ‘And he’s never been let out on parole.’
‘Does that feel better?’
‘No,’ he whispers.
‘Are you losing your grip?’ she asks, so seriously that he can’t help smiling.
He sighs and puts his hands to his face, then slowly lowers them, feeling his fingertips press gently against his eyelids and down his cheeks before he looks at Nelly again.
Her back is straight as she looks at him carefully. A tiny, sharp little wrinkle has appeared between her thin eyebrows.
‘OK, listen,’ Erik says. ‘I know this is completely wrong, but in one of the last conversations I had with Rocky, he claimed he had an alibi for the night of the murder, but I didn’t want him to be released simply because he’d bought himself a witness.’
‘What are you trying to say?’ she asks quietly.
‘I never passed that information on.’