Читать книгу The Sandman - Ларс Кеплер, Lars Kepler - Страница 10

4

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Anders is shouting and pounding at the heavy steel door, but the Senior Consultant still isn’t opening it. His pulse is thudding in his head as he turns to face their patient. Jurek Walter is still sitting on the floor, and blinks at him a few times before he starts to get up.

‘It’s a lie,’ Jurek says, dribbling blood down his chin. ‘They say I’m a monster, but I’m just a human being …’

He doesn’t have the energy to stand up and slumps back, panting, onto the floor.

‘A human being,’ he repeats.

With a weary gesture he puts one hand inside his shirt, pulls out a folded piece of paper and tosses it over towards Anders.

‘The letter he was asking for,’ he says. ‘For the past seven years I’ve been asking to see a lawyer … Not because I’ve got any hope of getting out … I am who I am, but I’m still a human being …’

Anders crouches down and reaches for the piece of paper without taking his eyes off Jurek. The crumpled man tries to get up again, leaning on his hands, and although he sways slightly he manages to put one foot down on the floor.

Anders picks up the paper from the floor, and finally hears a rattling sound as the key is inserted into the lock of the door. He turns and stares out through the reinforced glass, feeling his legs tremble beneath him.

‘You shouldn’t have given me an overdose,’ Jurek mutters.

Anders doesn’t turn round, but he knows that Jurek Walter is standing up, staring at him.

The reinforced glass in the door is like a screen of grainy ice. He can’t see who’s standing on the other side turning the key in the lock.

‘Open, open,’ he whispers as he hears breathing behind his back.

The door slides open and Anders stumbles out of the isolation cell. He stumbles straight into the concrete wall of the corridor and hears the heavy clang as the door shuts, then the rattles as the powerful lock responds to the turn of the key.

Panting, he leans back against the cool wall. Only then does he see that it wasn’t the Senior Consultant who rescued him but the young woman with the pierced cheeks.

‘I don’t know what happened,’ she says. ‘Roland must have lost it completely, he’s always incredibly careful about security.’

‘I’ll talk to him …’

‘Maybe he got ill … I think he’s diabetic.’

Anders wipes his clammy hands on his doctor’s coat and looks up at her again.

‘Thank you for letting me out,’ he says.

‘I’d do anything for you,’ she jokes.

He tries to give her his carefree, boyish smile, but his legs are shaking as he follows her out through the security door. She stops in the control room, then turns back towards him.

‘There’s only one problem with working down here,’ she says. ‘It’s so damn quiet that you have to eat loads of sweets just to stay awake.’

‘That sounds OK.’

On a monitor he can see Jurek sitting on his bed with his head in his hands. The dayroom with its television and running machine is empty.

The Sandman

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