Читать книгу Joona Linna Crime Series Books 1 and 2: The Hypnotist, The Nightmare - Ларс Кеплер, Lars Kepler - Страница 38

It is just 5:30 a.m. when the knocking begins somewhere in the apartment. Simone perceives the noise as part of a frustrating dream, in which she has to pick up different shells and porcelain lids. She understands the rules but still does the wrong thing. A boy knocks on the table and points out the wrong choices she has made. Simone twists and turns in her sleep, whimpering; she opens her eyes and is immediately wide awake.

Someone or something is knocking inside the apartment. She tries to locate the noise in the darkness, lying perfectly still and listening, but the knocking has stopped.

She can hear Erik snoring beside her. There is a tapping sound in the pipes. The wind blows against the windowpanes. The sound of a car outside roars through the window.

Simone just has time to think that she must have exaggerated the noise in her sleep when the knocking suddenly begins again. Someone is in the apartment! Erik has taken a pill and is out cold. His snoring quiets as she lays a hand on his arm, but he doesn’t wake up, only turns over, puffing. As quietly as possible, she creeps out of bed and slips through the bedroom door, which is ajar.

A light comes from the kitchen. As she moves through the hallway she sees a glow hanging in the air like a blue cloud of gas. It’s the fridge light. The fridge and the freezer are standing wide open. The freezer has begun to defrost and water is running onto the floor. Drops of water from the thawing packs of food are landing on the plastic edging with a gentle tapping noise.

Simone becomes aware of how cold it is in the kitchen. There is a smell of cigarette smoke. She looks out into the hallway.

Then she sees that the front door is wide open.

She rushes to Benjamin’s room. Fast asleep. For a little while she just stands there, listening to his regular breathing.

As she walks towards the front door to close it, her heart almost stops. There is someone standing in the doorway. He nods to her and holds out an object. It takes a few seconds before she realises this is the paperboy and he’s handing her the morning paper. She says thank you and takes the paper from him; when she finally closes the door, she notices that her entire body is shaking.

She switches on all the lights and searches the entire apartment. Nothing seems to be missing.

Simone is on her knees mopping the water from the floor when Erik walks into the kitchen. He fetches a dish cloth, throws it on the floor, and starts to push it around with his foot.

“Someone leave the fridge door open? I must have done it sleep-walking,” he says.

“No,” she says wearily.

“The fridge is a classic, after all. I must have been hungry.”

“I’d know. I’m such a light sleeper, I wake up every time you turn over in bed or stop snoring. I wake up if Benjamin goes to the toilet. I can hear when—”

“Then you must have been sleepwalking.”

“Erik, this isn’t funny. Something woke me up and the front door was open.”

She falls silent, not sure she should have told him this.

“I could definitely smell cigarette smoke in the kitchen,” she says eventually.

Erik laughs.

Simone’s cheeks are stained with an angry flush. “Why are you laughing?”

“Come on, Sixan. One of the neighbours probably smoked a cigarette standing by the exhaust fan in their kitchen. I mean, the whole building shares a ventilation system. Or some terrible person had a cigarette on the stairs without thinking—”

“Can you be a little more patronising?” Simone interrupts.

He tries to reassure her. “Simone—”

“Why don’t you believe someone was here?” she asks angrily. “After all that crap about you that was in the papers? The prank calls? It’s hardly surprising if some lunatic tries to get in here and—”

“Just stop. This is not logical. Who on earth would come into our apartment, open the fridge and the freezer, smoke a cigarette, and then just leave?”

He tosses the wrung-out dish cloth back on the floor and begins swabbing with his foot again.

“I don’t know, Erik! I don’t know, but that’s what somebody has done!”

“Calm down,” says Erik irritably.

“Calm down?”

“Stop making such a fuss. I’m sure we’ll find a simple explanation.”

“I could feel there was someone in the apartment when I woke up,” she says, in a subdued voice.

He sighs and leaves the kitchen. Simone looks at the dirty grey cloth he was using.

Benjamin comes in and sits down in his usual place.

“Good morning,” says Simone.

He sighs and sits there with his head in his hands. “Why do you and Dad always lie about everything?”

“We don’t,” she says.

“Yeah, right.”

“What makes you think we do?”

He doesn’t reply.

“Are you thinking about what I said in the taxi from—”

“I’m thinking about a whole load of things,” he says loudly.

“There’s no need to shout at me.”

He sighs. “Forget I said anything.”

“I don’t know what’s going to happen between me and Dad. It’s not that simple,” she says. “Maybe we’re only fooling ourselves, but that’s not the same as lying.”

“According to you,” he says quietly.

“Is something else bothering you?”

“How come there aren’t any pictures of me when I was little?”

“Of course there are,” she answers with a smile.

“Not when I was first born,” he says.

“Well, you know I had had a miscarriage … it’s just that we were so happy when you were born, we forgot to take photographs. I know exactly what you looked like. You had wrinkled ears and—”

“Stop it!” yells Benjamin, and storms off to his room.

Erik comes into the kitchen and drops an analgesic into a glass of water. “What’s up with Benjamin?” he asks.

“I have no idea.”

Erik drinks from the glass over the sink.

“He says we lie about everything,” says Simone.

“All teenagers feel that way. Comes with the territory.” Erik burps silently.

“I did mention to him that we were going to separate,” she tells him.

“How the hell could you do something so stupid?”

“I … I just said what I was feeling at the time.”

“For fuck’s sake, you can’t just think about yourself!”

“Me? I’m not the one who’s screwing students. I’m not the one taking a shitload of pills because—”

“Shut the fuck up!” he yells. “You don’t know anything!”

“I know you’re on serious painkillers.”

“And what’s that got to do with you?”

“Tell me, Erik: are you in pain?”

“I’m a doctor. I think I’m in a slightly better position to evaluate—”

“Oh, stop trying to fool me.”

“What do you mean?” he says.

“You’re an addict, Erik. We never have sex any more because you’re always zonked.”

“Maybe I don’t want to have sex with you,” he breaks in. “Why would I, when you’re so god-damn miserable with me all the time?”

The acrimony hangs in the air between them, nearly palpable. Is this really what saying the unsayable feels like? It should be more liberating, more profound; it should boil down to something more substantial.

“Then it is best if we separate,” she says.

“Fine.”

She can’t look at him; she just walks slowly out of the kitchen, feeling the tension and the pain in her throat, the tears springing to her eyes.

Benjamin has closed his bedroom door, and his music is so loud that the walls and doors are rattling. Simone locks herself in the bathroom, switches off the light, and weeps.

“Fucking hell!” she hears Erik yell from the hallway before the front door opens and shuts again.