“What happened?”
“Simone was injected with a powerful drug,” Erik says slowly. “I just got the results of her blood test; it’s an anaesthetic called alfentanil, used in major surgery.”
“But she’s all right?”
“She will be.”
Joona nods and writes down the name of the drug. “And Simone said she saw Josef take Benjamin?”
“She didn’t see the person’s face.”
“OK.”
“Are you going to find Josef?” asks Erik.
“Trust me, we’ll find him. There’s a national alert out for him. He’s badly injured. He’s going nowhere.”
“But you haven’t got any leads?”
Joona gives him a hard stare. “I don’t think it will be long before we find him.”
“Good.”
“Where were you when he came to your apartment?”
“I was sleeping in the spare room,” explains Erik. “I’d taken a pill, and I didn’t hear a thing.”
“So when he came into the bedroom, he only found Simone.”
“Yes.”
“This doesn’t make sense,” says Joona.
“It’s easy to miss the spare room. It looks more like a closet, hidden when the bathroom door is open. He probably thought I wasn’t home.”
“I don’t mean that,” says Joona. “I mean this doesn’t sound like Josef. He doesn’t give people injections; his behaviour is far more aggressive.”
“Perhaps it just looks aggressive to us,” says Erik.
“What do you mean?”
“Perhaps he knows what he’s doing all the time. I mean, you didn’t find any of his father’s blood on him back at home. That suggests he works systematically, coldly. What if he decided to get his revenge on me by taking Benjamin?”
There is silence. From the corner of his eye, Erik can see the blonde woman by the coffee machine sipping from her cup as she gazes out over the hospital complex.
Joona looks down at the table; then he meets Erik’s eyes and says gently, “I am really very sorry, Erik.”
43
saturday, december 12: morning
After parting with Joona outside the cafeteria, Erik returns to his office. The notion that Benjamin has been kidnapped hasn’t yet sunk in. It’s simply too incredible to believe that a stranger could break into their apartment and drag his son away.
And yet that’s what Simone saw.
It can’t be Josef Ek who has taken his son. Yes, he just made the case for it, but it’s impossible.
With a feeling that everything around him is becoming completely unmanageable, he sits down at his battered desk and calls the same people over and over and over again, as if he can tell from some nuance in their voices whether they might have overlooked some detail, whether they are lying or keeping information from him. He calls Aida three times in succession, asking first if she knows if Benjamin had any particular plans for the weekend, then if she has the phone numbers of his friends, the third time if she and Benjamin have had a fight. Her voice quavers on the other end of the phone when she answers, and Erik suddenly realises she’s just a kid, overwhelmed by the fierceness of his questioning and, in her own way, by Benjamin’s absence. Protectively, he gives her all the numbers where he can be reached and establishes that she hasn’t seen Benjamin since school yesterday. Then he begins calling the police. He asks what’s happening, whether they’re making any progress. He calls every hospital in the Stockholm area. He hears himself saying, in his most authoritative doctorly voice, “He has von Willebrand’s disease, but he may not be carrying his alert card from the emergency blood service. I’d recommend screening all unidentified adolescent male admittees for the disease.” He calls Benjamin’s mobile, which is switched off, for the tenth time. He calls Joona’s phone, demanding loudly that the police intensify the search. Joona must insist on more resources. Finally, he begs him to do his utmost.
Erik returns to Simone’s room but stops outside. He places a hand on the wall to steady himself; things have begun to spin, and he can feel something tightening around him. His brain is struggling to comprehend what is happening. Within, he can hear a constant refrain: I’m going to find Benjamin, I’m going to find Benjamin.
When he feels steadier, Erik looks at his wife through the pane of glass in the door. She is awake, but her face is tired and confused, her lips are pale, and the dark circles around her eyes have deepened. Her strawberry-blonde hair is messy with sweat. She is turning her wedding ring around, twisting it and pressing it against the knuckle. Erik runs a hand over his face and feels the rough stubble. Simone looks back at him, but her expression doesn’t change.
Erik goes in and sits heavily by her side. She glances at him, then lowers her eyes. He sees her lips draw back in a painful grimace. A few fat tears well up in her eyes, and her nose reddens with weeping.
“Benjamin tried to grab hold of me; he reached out for my hand,” she whispers. “But I just lay there. I couldn’t move.”
“I’ve just found out that Josef Ek ran away last night.” Erik’s voice is weak.
“I’m so cold,” she whispers, but she knocks his hand away when he tries to tuck the pale blue hospital blanket around her. “Don’t,” she says. “It’s your fault. You were so fucking desperate to hypnotise him—”
“Simone, I was trying to save someone’s life. This is not my fault. It’s my job.”
“But what about your son? Doesn’t he count?” Erik reaches for her, but she pushes him away. “I’m going to call my father,” she says, her voice unsteady. “He’ll help me find Benjamin.”
“I really don’t want you to do that,” says Erik.
“To be honest, I don’t give a shit about what you want. I want my son back.”
“I’ll find him, Sixan.”
“Why don’t I believe you?”
“The police are doing what they can, and your father—”
“The police? It was the police who let that lunatic get away,” she says angrily. “They’re not going to do anything to find Benjamin.”
“Josef is a serial killer. The police want to find him, and they will. But I’m not stupid. I know Benjamin isn’t important, they don’t care about him, not really, not like us, not like—”
“That’s exactly what I’m saying.”
“Joona Linna explained—”
“But it’s his fault! He’s the one who got you to carry out the hypnosis.”
Erik shakes his head, then swallows hard. “It was my decision.”
“My father will do everything he can,” she says quietly.
“I understand that you’re angry with me. But right now we need to put that aside. I want us to go through every little detail together. We need to think carefully, and we need to be calm.”
“What the fuck can you and I do?” she cries.
Silence. Erik hears someone switch on the television in the room next door. “We need to think,” he says cautiously. “I’m not sure it was Josef Ek who actually—”
“You’re