Page 105 of The Sleepwalker
Joona watches as Caroline hurries away on unsteady legs, hunched over slightly.
He waits a moment, then walks through to a parlour with a large Isaac Grünewald painting hanging on the wall, gold leaf joinery, stucco work and an enormous crystal chandelier.
He continues through the heavy double doors into a corner room with windows looking out onto the Fyris River, taking in the oak panelling, floor-to-ceiling bookshelves and three different seating areas.
A blonde woman in her thirties returns a volume of Descartes’ letters to the shelf and half-turns towards him. She is leaning on a cane in her left hand, but she moves it over to her right as he approaches, possibly to avoid having to shake his hand.
‘I overheard what you just said to Caroline. Incredibly sad news, but I’m glad for her sake that it’s you leading the investigation,’ she says. ‘I’m actually a little starstruck to meet you.’
She has a scar on her face, stretching from the edge of one eyebrow to her chin.
‘Your work on the porcelain children case was impressive,’ Joona replies, pausing a few metres away from her.
‘Don’t forget to ask Caroline about her sister-in-law. That’swhere I would’ve started, anyway.’
‘OK,’ says Joona.
The woman starts making her way towards the hall, the tip of her cane thudding softly against the Persian carpet. Joona holds open the heavy salon doors for her.
‘You know, I just pretend to be helpless for the advantages it brings,’ she jokes.
‘Same here.’
Joona follows her over the creaking parquet floor and out into the hall, where she drapes her coat over her arm, opens the front door and turns to him.
‘Leave some cases for me, Joona,’ she says as she leaves.
He moves back through the parlour to the large living room and hears Caroline wailing through the walls.
Joona sits down in an armchair, takes out his phone and skims through his messages. On the coffee table, there is a book of Mikael Jansson’s photographs from various Formula One races.
After a few minutes, Caroline Bandling comes in and sits down opposite him, crossing her legs and apologising for making him wait. Her eyes are puffy and red, but she is just about holding it together, like the first delicate ice in winter.
‘Julia has gone,’ he says.
She nods, clasps her trembling hands on her right thigh and meets his eye.
‘Are yousureit’s Pontus?’ she asks.
‘I’m afraid so.’
Her face crumples again, and she turns away and presses a hand to her mouth. Swallows hard and looks at him.
‘Sorry, I’ll pull myself together,’ she says, clearing her throat.
‘Take however long you need.’
‘You’ve got a job to do,’ she says, drying her cheeks. ‘It’s just that I’m struggling to take it all in .?.?. You’ll have to forgive me.’
‘Caroline, you’ve just received the worst news possible, and it’s no problem at all if you want to wait a few days .?.?. But I’m going to need to ask you some questions.’
‘It’s OK,’ she says, clasping her nervous hands again. ‘Just start, and we’ll see .?.?. How it goes, I mean.’
‘Thank you,’ Joona replies. He starts the voice recorder function on his phone and sets it down on the table in front of her.
‘You’ve got a hole in your jacket,’ she says.
‘I do.’
