“Old scars? What do you mean?” asks Joona.
“You’re the one who called it.” The Needle smiles faintly. “An emergency C-section scar.”
He points at the vertical wound. As Joona looks more closely, he can see that all along one side there is a thin thread of old, pale-pink scar tissue, from a C-section that healed long ago.
“But she wasn’t pregnant?” asks Joona.
“No.” The Needle laughs, pushing his aviators back.
“Are we dealing with a murderer who has surgical skills?” asks Joona.
The Needle shakes his head; Joona thinks about the fact that someone killed Katja Ek in a frenzy, with considerable violence, and came back two hours later, turned her over, and carefully cut open her old C-section scar.
“See if there’s anything similar on the other bodies.”
“Do you want us to make that a priority?” asks The Needle.
“Yes, I think so.”
“You’re not sure?”
“I’m sure.”
“So you want us to prioritise everything.”
“More or less.” Joona is smiling as he leaves the room.
But as Joona gets into his car, he starts to shiver. He starts the engine, pulls out into Retzius Väg, turns up the heater, and keys in the number for Chief Prosecutor Jens Svanehjälm.
“Svanehjälm.”
“Joona Linna.”
“Ah. Good morning. I’ve just been talking to Carlos. He said you’d be in touch.”
“It’s a little difficult to say what we’re dealing with here,” says Joona. “I’ve just left the forensic unit, and I’m thinking of heading to the hospital; I really need to question the surviving witness.”
“Carlos explained the situation to me,” says Jens. “Have you got the profiling group started?”
“A profile won’t be enough,” replies Joona.
“No, I know; I agree. If we’re to have any chance of protecting the older sister, we absolutely have to speak to the boy.”
Joona suddenly sees a firework explode in complete silence: a pale blue star, far away above the roofs of Stockholm. He clears his throat. “I’m in touch with Susanne Granat at Social Services, and I was thinking of having Erik Maria Bark, the psychiatrist, with me during questioning. He’s an expert in the treatment of shock and trauma.”
“That’s perfectly in order,” says Jens reassuringly.
“In that case I’ll go straight to the neurosurgical unit.”
“Good idea.”
15
tuesday, december 8: morning
Hurrying along the hospital corridor after dropping Benjamin off at school, Erik thinks how stupid he had been to comment on Aida’s tattoo. He has just made himself look self-righteous and critical in their eyes.
Two uniformed police officers let him into the unit. Joona Linna is already waiting outside the room where Josef Ek is lying. When he sees Erik he gives a little wave, like a small child might, opening and closing his hand.
Erik looks in at Josef through the window in the door. A bag of blood, almost black, is suspended above him. His condition has stabilised somewhat, but there’s still a risk of new bleeds in the liver. The nurse prepares an infusion of morphine.
He is lying on his back, his mouth tightly closed; his stomach is moving rapidly up and down, and his fingers twitch from time to time.
“I was right when I said the perpetrator started at the football pitch,” says Joona. “He murdered Anders Ek first. Then he went to the house and killed Lisa, the little girl, thought he killed the boy, and killed Katja, the mother.”
“Has the pathologist confirmed that?”
“Yes,” replies Joona.
“I see.”
“So if the killer’s intention is to eliminate the entire family,” Joona goes on, “only the older daughter remains. Evelyn.”
“Unless he’s found out the boy is still alive,” says Erik.
“Exactly, but we can protect him.”
“Yes.”
“We have to find the killer before he can get to Evelyn,” says Joona. He looks Erik directly in the eye. “I need to find out what the boy knows.”
“And I need to do what’s in the best interests of the patient.”
“Perhaps it’s in his best interests not to lose his sister.”
“That occurred to me as well; I’ll have another look at him, of course,” says Erik. “But I’m fairly sure it’s too early. That said, I believe the patient will regain consciousness quite soon, within just a few hours, at least to the extent that we’ll be able to start talking to him. But after that point, you have to understand that we have a lengthy therapeutic process ahead of us. An interrogation could damage the boy’s condition.”
Daniella walks over briskly, wearing a snug red coat. She hands the patient’s file to Erik.
“Erik, it doesn’t matter what we think. The prosecutor has already decided that special circumstances apply.”
Erik turns and looks inquiringly at Joona. “So you don’t need our consent?” he asks.
“No,” answers Joona.
“So what are you waiting for?”
“I think Josef has already suffered more than anyone should have to suffer,” says Joona. “I don’t want to put him through anything that might harm him. But at the same time I have to find his sister before the killer does. And that boy saw the attacker’s face. If you won’t help me find out what he knows, I’ll do it myself, but obviously I prefer the better way.”
“Which is?”
“Hypnosis,” replies Joona.
Erik looks at him. “I don’t even have permission to hypnotise—”
“I’ve spoken to Annika Lorentzon,” says Daniella.
“What did she say?” asks Erik.
“It’s hardly a popular decision, permitting an unstable patient to be hypnotised, a child into the bargain. But since I am responsible for the patient, she has left the final judgment to me,” Daniella tells him.
Erik exhales, then rubs his eyes with his fingers. “I really want to get out of this.”
“If you don’t mind my saying so, your reluctance to use hypnosis seems to go beyond your prudent concern for the patient’s well-being,” says Joona.
“I have no intention of discussing the matter, but I promised ten years ago never to use hypnosis again. It was a decision on my part that I still think was the right one.”
“Is it right in this case?” asks Joona.
“To be honest, I don’t know.”
“Make an exception,” implores Daniella.
“Hypnosis, then.” Erik sighs.
“I’d like you to make an attempt as soon