Page 11 of The Sleepwalker
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The suspect’s father and solicitor have taken their seats on one side of the varnished pine table in the windowless interrogation room.
Bernard Sand seems calm and composed, sitting tall with his hands folded in his lap. He is clean-shaven, and his thick, greying hair is neatly combed back, his eyes watchful.
Joona and Lisette Josephson are sitting opposite them. Lisette has sleek blonde hair, a slight underbite and a stern gaze. She is wearing a pair of chestnut brown leather trousers and a nougat-coloured cashmere sweater. Her coat is draped over thearm of her chair.
Joona flicks through the forensic technicians’ photographs from the static caravan for the second time, pausing to study the image from the bedroom where the teenager was found.
The axe is on the bed, the gleaming blade resting on the pillow, almost as though it had tossed the young man to the floor and then lain down to sleep.
There are bloody hand- and footprints everywhere, bright spatters high up the walls, smeared blood and a large pool around a severed arm on the vinyl floor.
The clear impression of a shoulder is visible in the middle of the pool.
There is a curt knock at the door, and Hugo Sand is led into the room by a guard who takes a seat by the wall.
Hugo sits down between his father and solicitor.
His green custody tracksuit makes his skin look pale and sickly, emphasising the dark circles beneath his eyes.
He immediately starts chewing on his thumb nail, and his father reaches out and gently pulls his hand away from his mouth.
After the usual formalities, the prosecutor welcomes everyone and explains that they will be following the national guidelines for the handling of cases involving minors.
‘That’s why we’ve held off on interviewing you so far, Hugo – until your solicitor could be here,’ Lisette continues.
‘OK,’ he mumbles.
A waft of the solicitor’s aftershave drifts through the air as he pours some water into the paper cups and loosens his tie slightly.
‘Right, shall we get started?’ Lisette asks, briefly reading from the files in front of her before she looks up. ‘Following a call reporting a possible break-in at Bredäng Campsite, Hugo Sand was arrested by the responding officers at quarter past threethis morning. Forensics found blood belonging to the victim on Hugo, and his fingerprints and DNA were also found at the crime scene.’
The solicitor leans forward and clears his throat. ‘My client doesn’t deny having been in the caravan when—’
‘His fingerprints are on the murder weapon,’ the prosecutor cuts him off.
‘Wait,’ says Hugo, his voice barely holding. ‘I don’t know what happened. I woke up when one of the cops shot the floor in front of me, but I had no idea what I was doing there.’
‘My client is a sleepwalker, clinically diagnosed and very well documented,’ the solicitor says, opening his briefcase.
‘A sleepwalker?’ Lisette asks, blushing slightly.
‘Here is a list of places where Hugo has previously woken up, including but not limited to a metro car, a rowing boat on Lake Mälaren, a Thai massage parlour—’
‘Joona, perhaps you could take over?’ Lisette says, her voice faltering.
‘What did you do yesterday evening?’ Joona asks, fixing his eyes on the boy.
Hugo turns to his representative, who gives him a near-imperceptible nod in response, and then looks up at Joona.
‘Nothing.’
‘We ate dinner together around seven,’ says Bernard.
‘And after that?’
‘I hung out in my room with my girlfriend,’ Hugo says with a shrug.
