Trapped, page 53
But a copy of himself.
He actually had one of those.
He ran into the study. The life-size, cardboard cut-out of him wasn’t hard to find – it was propped against the wall behind some boxes. The cardboard had got a bit soiled after the production team had taken it on a bar crawl when he couldn’t join them himself. But it was far better than a hat and coat. The figure was him. Verliebtheit.
At least for five seconds, until Ruben realized he wasn’t moving.
He needed to reinforce the illusion. He glanced quickly at his watch. Two minutes had elapsed since the phone call. He needed to be in his car in no more than three minutes’ time. He spent thirty seconds putting on the same clothes the cardboard cut-out version of him was wearing. Then he ran out of the house, across the lawn and over to Ruben, who lowered the police car window when he spotted Vincent.
‘Hi, Ruben,’ said Vincent, putting his index finger in the air sufficiently high up that Ruben had to look upwards, his eyes automatically drawn to the finger.
‘Now, you are going to do … this,’ said Vincent, quickly moving his finger down while lowering his voice an octave on ‘this’.
Ruben’s gaze followed the downward motion of the finger until his eyes closed automatically. Vincent quickly put his hand to Ruben’s neck to ensure he kept his head gently leaning forward. Ruben would never forgive him for this.
‘Relax and breathe deeply,’ said Vincent. ‘With each breath you take, you’re feeling more and more relaxed. Deeper and deeper.’
He waited a few seconds until he heard Ruben breathing deeply and rhythmically.
‘In a few seconds, you’ll see me in the kitchen window,’ he continued. ‘We’re going to play the angry game. Do you understand?’
‘Yes. The angry game,’ Ruben mumbled in the monotonous tone of one who was easily hypnotized.
‘We’re going to stay completely still and stare at each other,’ said Vincent. ‘The first one to blink loses. You’ve never seen someone who can stay as still as I can. But the more I stay still, the more determined you are to win. Do you understand?’
‘You are still,’ Ruben murmured. ‘But I will win.’
Vincent removed his hand and raised Ruben’s head. His eyes were still closed. He could click his fingers to get Ruben to start and open them, but he’d never really liked that finger clicking thing. It was so … unsophisticated.
‘Ruben, look at me,’ he said instead, stating it as a command.
Ruben blinked at him in confusion.
‘Good, well that’s agreed then,’ said Vincent. ‘Good chat. I’m going to think over what you said. It’ll be a quiet night in for me.’
It was important to continue talking immediately after implanting a suggestion, in order to prevent Ruben’s brain from trying to figure out what had just happened.
‘Hmm, yes,’ Ruben said, trying to gather himself. ‘I’ll be keeping my eye on you, Vincent. Don’t try anything.’
Vincent jogged back to the house, checking the time. The whole thing had taken ninety seconds. One minute left. Once inside, he crouched beneath the kitchen window and positioned the cardboard cut-out in the window, turning it to face the police car. He saw Ruben sit up straighter.
He crept out via the terrace door into the back garden while sending a message to Benjamin asking him to pick up his little brother from school.
Vincent came round the corner of the house and followed the wall to his own car, which was parked in front of the garage. The car was between him and Ruben. He crouched behind it, so that he was hidden in case Ruben were to look in his direction. Ruben would hopefully have all his concentration aimed at the kitchen window for a good while to come, but he couldn’t afford to take chances.
Vincent carefully unlocked the car, opened the passenger-side door and wriggled over to the driver’s seat. Then he quietly reversed onto the street, just a few metres from the police car. The gravel crunched under his tyres, but Ruben didn’t react. Vincent didn’t dare drive past the police car and break Ruben’s field of vision. It would have to be the other way instead. Once he was round the corner so that Ruben could no longer see him, he floored it. He had to google his route while on the move. He couldn’t lose his grip now. He had to keep focused. Keep thinking one step at a time. But just one.
Mina.
Jane.
He couldn’t think about the cramped water tank. Couldn’t think about the fact that he was driving as fast as he could to let his big sister lock him in a glass box full of water. Couldn’t think about the fact that Jane was going to let him drown, couldn’t think about the fact that he was racing towards his death with the accelerator to the floor. Cars honked at him as he overtook them, nearly close enough to scrape their paintwork. He pushed the accelerator down even further.
Mina.
Jane.
126
Sara caught her breath for a few seconds outside Julia’s door. Then she knocked and entered. The room was empty. That wasn’t what she had been expecting. She thought everyone would be on site, today of all days, on high alert. She knew that Christer’s office was further down the corridor and she went there. The door was wide open, but his office was also empty. What was going on? Perhaps they’d been called out. If so, they needed her information even more.
Cheerful laughter and music was audible from a few rooms down: the unmistakable rhythms of Bob Marley. What on earth? She hurried to the room where the sound was coming from and was stopped dead in her tracks by the sight that met her eyes.
Peder was reggae dancing to ‘No Woman No Cry’, leaning back and raising his knees. On his chest he was wearing a baby carrier, in which a baby was happily babbling away. Lying on the floor were another two babies on a thick blanket. They were displaying equal parts delight and terror as they were drowned in slobbery kisses from an overexcited golden retriever. Christer was holding the lead and doing his best to make sure the dog didn’t eat the children. Peder caught sight of Sara, stopped in the middle of a particularly exuberant leg lift and blushed from ear to ear.
‘Er … you see, it’s my wife’s birthday today,’ he said, embarrassed.
Sara didn’t reply. She was too busy trying to take in what she was seeing.
‘Her present,’ Peder continued in response to the unspoken question, ‘or, well, her demand actually, was to go out for lunch. Alone. And then to get her hair done. Alone. And then to nod off in the corner of some cafe. It’s been on the cards for a long time. So, yes. Hmm.’
He nodded towards the triplets as if this explained everything.
‘I gathered from Julia that today was an important day,’ Sara said. ‘Full mobilization. She can’t have been referring to your wife’s birthday.’
Peder cleared his throat, even more embarrassed, and switched off Bob Marley on the computer. Christer pulled the retriever away from the babies, who were gurgling with laughter on the blanket. The dog immediately looked deeply unhappy.
‘That’s correct, we’re on full alert today,’ said Christer. ‘We’re on standby, like you say. According to Vin— I mean, we have information suggesting another murder may take place today. The squad cars out on the streets are on the highest state of alert. But since we don’t have anything else to go on for the time being, Peder and I are manning the fort here. In case something comes in that requires us to act quickly.’
‘Then you’ll want to hear this,’ said Sara. ‘Do you remember the phone we traced in the spring? The one from Kungsholmen that called the tip line? You thought it was probably your murderer.’
Peder and Christer nodded attentively. The triplets and the dog seemed to sense the seriousness that had descended on the room, as all four went quiet at the same time.
‘Julia asked me to monitor that number this week in case it was reactivated. Which it just was. The phone was switched on for ten minutes and one call was made. But this time the call was made from the Norrtälje archipelago.’
The baby in Peder’s sling began to whimper anxiously. He carefully enveloped the small, chubby hands in his own.
‘Norrtälje?’ he said. ‘What was the call about?’
‘Don’t know. We can’t listen in; that requires a different warrant. Julia never asked me to obtain one.’
Sara had a sinking feeling in her stomach that she had made a fool of herself. She should obviously have asked Julia what they needed. It took time to obtain a warrant – it was necessary to plan in advance. But it wasn’t easy to get to grips with the procedures if you didn’t work on them day in day out. Of course she should have double-checked. Three months into her new job and still no better than a rookie.
‘It’s not your fault,’ said Christer as if reading her thoughts. ‘Julia should have asked you, but she’s had other things on her plate. Do we know more than the fact that the call came from the archipelago?’
‘Much more,’ Sara said, relieved. ‘We know who the call was placed to. Someone called Victor … sorry, Vincent Walder.’
Peder and Christer looked at each other in shock. Sara didn’t understand – she hadn’t thought they’d react so strongly. Or react at all, to be honest. There was clearly more going on here than Julia had told her about.
‘Bloody hell,’ said Peder quietly before turning to her. ‘We know him.’
‘I’ll call the task force right away and ask them to dispatch the flying squad,’ said Christer. ‘Come on, Bosse, we’ve got work to do.’
‘Ruben is already at Vincent’s,’ said Peder. ‘I’ll contact him and then try to get hold of Julia. Thanks, Sara. Good work.’
She couldn’t help smiling as Peder and Christer disappeared to carry out their duties. It was these moments she lived for. When she knew she had made a difference. When all the hours of slog suddenly produced results in the real world. She and Michael might put off the move to California for a while longer.
127
She looked at the bag on the bed in resignation. She had pointed out – several times – that they didn’t need to pack as if they were going abroad. Uppsala was only around an hour away. And they weren’t going to stay any longer than necessary. But Torkel liked to be prepared. So well prepared that you’d have thought he was one of those survivalists on Netflix. Without even opening the bag, Julia suspected its contents would see the two of them through a small war. And if they stayed at home it would see them through several years of subsistence. Above all, they had enough toilet paper to keep a whole county going for a fair while. What sort of muppet hoarded toilet paper? Ah well, she supposed he was her muppet.
And when it came down to it, he couldn’t do much else during this phase. He wasn’t the one who was going to have a vacuum cleaner hose shoved into his body, it wasn’t his eggs that were going to be sucked out by the dozen to see whether there were two or three that were usable.
The only meaningful thing he could do was pack her bag. She couldn’t reproach him for doing so with a vengeance.
However, she was annoyed at his attitude right now. She wasn’t just his wife and the potential mother of their future children. He refused to accept that she actually had a job to do too.
‘They can manage without you,’ he said from the hallway. ‘Come on.’
She heard him take the car keys from the hook by the door.
‘I don’t know how I can say this any more clearly,’ she hissed. ‘I’m heading up an investigation, in charge of a team – I’m involved in every aspect. And today is the day we have to stop a murderer from claiming his fourth victim. Don’t you understand how it would look if I wasn’t there?’
She was close to tears. How could he be so petty and not understand? At the same time, she had stuck more needles in her belly and breathed in that bloody spray more times than she cared to count. It had to come to an end. Torkel came into the bedroom. He was struggling not to show the frustration that nevertheless shone clearly out of his face.
‘You’ve said it yourself many times,’ he said. ‘You’re one part of a highly skilled team. The others will manage. They know what they have to do. Surely it’s not up to you personally to stop the murder?’
‘Thanks for your vote of confidence,’ she said, backing away from him.
Torkel sighed and sat down on the bed. She knew that her low oestrogen made her more irritable, but sometimes he was just so damned stupid.
‘What you can do,’ he said. ‘Is this. Give us a chance. It didn’t work last time we tried. I know the timing is disastrous. But this date has been blocked off in the diary for weeks. If we don’t go to Uppsala University Hospital today then you’ll have to start again from the beginning with the injections and the whole circus for several weeks. Just to get back to this point again. Is it worth that?’
She sat down next to him and wiped her eyes with her sleeve. Then she slumped her shoulders in resignation.
‘No, it isn’t worth it,’ she said. ‘But you’re asking me to choose between creating a life – a life that might not ever really exist, we don’t know for sure – and trying to prevent another life being ended, a life that definitely exists today. It’s not fair.’
There was a vibration from under her bum. She had sat on her phone. She stood up and pulled it out. There was a message from Peder on the illuminated display. Two words. Two puny words that made her decision for her.
‘I’ve got to go right away,’ she said. ‘Give me the car keys.’
Torkel passed her the keys without arguing.
‘Kiss, darling. We’ll talk more later,’ he said while she put on her jacket.
She read the message again on the way out to the car.
It’s Vincent.
128
An irritating, muffled ringing sound interrupted his concentration. As if someone had set an alarm somewhere in the distance. Last week or something. Ruben furrowed his brow.
He couldn’t be disturbed – if he moved even an inch then Vincent would win.
Vincent was standing so still. Ruben was trying really hard.
He couldn’t fathom how it was possible to stand as still as that mentalist was doing in his window.
But Ruben didn’t plan on losing.
He fixed his gaze on Vincent even harder.
The sound went off again, much sharper now. Odd. By comparison, it had sounded like it was coming through cotton wool last time. Now it was more like a sharp knife cutting through his ear.
He squinted at Vincent.
Something looked different.
Something wasn’t right.
It rang a third time. Ruben blinked as if waking from sleep. Really deep sleep that you struggled to emerge from.
Although he knew he hadn’t slept. Not a wink.
He had been staring at Vincent the whole time and hadn’t nodded off even for a second.
But there was something about the shadows on Vincent’s face over in the kitchen window that didn’t add up.
Why not?
The phone rang for a fourth time and he had to tear his gaze away to locate it on the seat next to him. He put it on speakerphone as he answered.
‘Ruben Höök, what is it?’ he said in irritation.
‘It’s Peder. The murderer has just called Vincent. I know you consider him a suspect and this obviously points in that direction. But he may also be in trouble. Christer has deployed the flying squad – sit tight and don’t do anything until they arrive.’
Ruben hung up. He thought for a moment. He looked across the street towards the house. Then he got out of the car. He hesitated and stood there for a few seconds leaning against the car door. Then he ran across the lawn, heading for the window. Vincent’s cardboard cut-out stared placidly back at him. Ruben could have sworn the cut-out was smiling.
129
He pulled up on the patch of gravel in front of the mink farm. Kenneth was waiting for him. The bastard even waved at him. Vincent hated him. He parked and got out. The stench of decay was powerful. It seemed to be coming from the main building. Something had happened at the farm – that much was clear. But right now he didn’t care one iota about that. He wanted to murder Kenneth – to eradicate him from the surface of the earth for what he had done to Mina. But he knew there was no point in venting his fury on the bearded pensioner. If he did, he’d never see Mina again.
‘Where is she?’ he said instead.
Kenneth turned his back to him and began to walk away. Vincent had no choice but to follow. At the far end of the building there was a small door, through which the man disappeared. With his hand to his mouth, Vincent stopped in the doorway. The sunlight outside made it dark inside. There could be anything inside. It could be a trap. But Mina was in there.
The room inside turned out to be a workshop – the workshop he’d seen during their video call. The water tank was standing in the middle of the floor. Mina was sitting at the bottom. He ran over to her and hammered on the wall of the tank. He crouched so that he could see her better. The blood on her forehead had begun to dry. There was going to be one hell of a bruise there. She seemed otherwise unharmed so far as he could tell. But she wasn’t moving.
‘Mina,’ he shouted, with his mouth pressed to the glass.
‘We gave her something to make her sleep,’ the man explained while closing the door. ‘She put up too much of a struggle.’
The reassuring autumn sunshine outside disappeared and was replaced by the cold glow of fluorescent tubes. A generator was humming away somewhere.
‘But I’m sure she’ll come to when we start filling it with water,’ said Kenneth, reaching his hand out towards Vincent. ‘Your phone.’
