Читать книгу Joona Linna Crime Series Books 1 and 2: The Hypnotist, The Nightmare - Ларс Кеплер, Lars Kepler - Страница 42

Joona sits in his office and stares at his hands. One hand still holds the telephone. When he informed Jens Svanehjälm of Evelyn’s sudden change of heart, Jens had listened in silence, sighing heavily as Joona went over the cruel motive behind the crime.

“To be perfectly honest, Joona,” he had said eventually, “this is all a little bit thin, bearing in mind that Josef Ek accused his sister of being behind the whole thing. What we really need is a confession or some kind of forensic evidence.”

Joona glances around the room, rubs his hand over his face, then calls Daniella Richards to arrange a suitable time to continue questioning Josef, when the suspect will have a lower level of analgesics in his body.

“His head must be clear,” says Joona.

“You could come in at five o’clock,” says Daniella.

“This afternoon?”

“His next dose of morphine isn’t due until six. It levels out around teatime.”

Joona looks at the clock. It’s 2:30 p.m.

“That would suit me very well,” he says.

After the conversation with Daniella Richards, he calls Lisbet Carlén and informs her of the time.

In the staff room he takes an apple from the fruit bowl; when he returns to his office, his seat is occupied by Erixon, the crime-scene technician. His entire body is wedged against the desk. His face is bright red, and he is puffing and panting as he waves a weary hand at Joona.

“If you shove that apple in my mouth, you’ll have a suckling pig all ready for Christmas,” he says.

“Oh, shut up,” says Joona, taking a bite.

“I deserve it,” says Erixon. “Since that Thai place opened on the corner, I’ve put on twenty-five pounds.”

Joona shrugs. “The food’s really good.”

“Fuckin’ A.”

“So what did you find in the women’s locker room?” asks Joona.

Erixon holds up a chubby hand in a defensive gesture. “Don’t say, What did I tell you?”

Joona grins. “We’ll see,” he says diplomatically.

“All right,” says Erixon, wiping the sweat from his cheeks. “There was hair belonging to Josef Ek in the drain, and there was blood from his father between the tiles on the floor.”

“What did I tell you?” Joona beams.

In the lift down to the foyer, Joona calls Jens Svanehjälm again.

“I’m glad you called,” says Jens. “I’m getting a lot of shit about this hypnosis business. They’re saying we ought to scrap the preliminary investigation into Josef, that it’s just going to cost money and—”

“Hold on.”

“But I’ve decided to—”

“Jens?”

“What?” he replies irritably.

“We’ve got forensic evidence,” he says seriously. “We can link Josef Ek to the first crime scene and to his father’s blood.”

Chief Prosecutor Jens Svanehjälm breathes heavily on the other end of the phone. “Joona, you know you’ve called at the last possible minute.”

“But I’m in time.”

“Yes.”

They are just about to hang up when Joona says, “What did I tell you?”

“What?”

“I was right, wasn’t I?”

There is silence at the other end of the line. Then Jens says, slowly and deliberately, “Yes, Joona, you were right.”

They end the conversation, and the smile fades from the detective’s face. He walks along the glass wall facing the courtyard and checks the time once again. In half an hour he wants to be at the Nordic Museum.