CAMILLA LACKBERG
The Drowning
Translated from the Swedish by Tiina Nunnally
Copyright
Published by HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd
1 London Bridge Street
London SE1 9GF
Published by HarperCollinsPublishers 2012
Copyright © Camilla Lackberg 2008
Published by agreement with Nordin Agency, Sweden
Translation copyright © Tiina Nunnally 2011
First published in Swedish as Sjöjungfrun
Camilla Lackberg asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work
A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library
FIRST EDITION
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental and beyond the intent of either the author or the publisher.
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Source ISBN: 9780007419517
Ebook Edition © July 2012 ISBN: 9780007419524
Version: 2018-08-13
To Martin
Table of Contents
1
He had known that sooner or later it would come to light again. Something like that was impossible to hide. Every word had led him closer to what was unnameable and appalling. What he had been trying for so many years to repress.
Now escape was no longer an option. He felt the morning air fill his lungs as he walked as fast as he could. His heart was pounding in his chest. He didn’t want to go there, but he had to. So he had chosen to let fate decide. If someone was there, he would have to speak. If nobody was there, he would continue on his way to work, as if nothing had happened.
But the door opened when he knocked. He stepped inside and squinted in the dim light. The person standing in front of him was not the one he had expected to see. It was somebody else.
Her long hair swung rhythmically from side to side as he followed her into the next room. He started talking, asking questions. His thoughts were whirling round and round in his head. Nothing was what it appeared to be. This was all wrong, and yet it seemed right.
Suddenly he fell silent. Something had struck him in the solar plexus with a force that stopped his words in mid-sentence. He looked down and saw blood starting to seep out as the knife was pulled from the wound. Then a new stab, more pain, and the sharp blade twisting inside his body.
He knew it was over. It would all end here, even though there was still so much he had left to do and see and experience. At the same time there was a kind of justice in what was happening. He hadn’t deserved the good life he’d enjoyed, or all the love he’d been given. Not after what he had done.
After the pain had numbed his senses and the knife stopped moving, the water came. The