Page 16 of The Sleepwalker
‘The whole campsite is cordoned off, and we’re bringing in sniffer dogs tomorrow,’ says Lisette.
‘Shall we flip him over?’ asks Åhlén.
‘Please,’ says Joona.
Chaya and Åhlén lift the sturdy torso and gently turn it onto its front.
‘You haven’t said when you think he died,’ says Lisette.
‘Judging by the temperature of the body and the extent of the livor mortis, I’d say he’d been dead for almost an hour when the first officers arrived.’
‘Around two in the morning, in other words,’ says Joona.
‘Yes.’
They study Josef Lindgren’s exposed spine.
‘Who did this?’ asks Lisette. ‘What sort of killer are we looking for?’
‘It wouldn’t require a huge amount of physical strength,’ says Åhlén, ‘but whoever it was would need to be in fairly good shape.’
‘Could a young man have done this?’
‘Sure.’
‘In his sleep?’
5
Hugo wakes with a start, filled with a sense of unease. It is the middle of the night, and he isn’t sure what roused him. For a moment, he lies perfectly still, listening intently. He hears a faint knocking sound through the wall, but it stops suddenly.
He opens his eyes and stares up at his lampshade in the darkness. A white rice paper orb, stretched over rings of thin bamboo.
There have been a number of violent robberies to the south of Stockholm recently. The police have issued warnings, and there is talk that the perpetrators are a group of career criminals with military backgrounds and equipment. They let themselves into people’s homes during the night and force them to make large bank transfers, leaving a trail of dead, mutilated and raped family members in their wake.
Social media is rife with rumours that the group’s commander looks like a skeleton. A man who kills his prisoners with a spade before burning their houses to the ground.
The slow knocking sound starts and stops again.
Hugo turns his head and focuses on the closed blind, hovering like a grey rectangle in the darkness. The lights are on in the garden, and the shadows cast by the bare branches of the lilac are like cracks on the smooth fabric.
He closes his weary eyes, relaxes and hears a car pass byon the street. He should check the time, he thinks, see whether Olga has sent any more weird pictures, but he doesn’t have the energy.
All he wants is to go back to sleep, but he hears something that leaves him wide awake. The soft crunch of footsteps on the frosty grass outside.
The shadow of a person darts across the blind.
A moment later, several windows break at the rear of the house.
Hugo hears a series of dull bangs, and the house itself seems to groan. A light sprinkling of dust falls from the lampshade.
The blood in Hugo’s veins runs cold as he gets out of bed as quietly as he can.
His body starts shaking as the front door is forced open and shards of glass, wood and bits of metal crash to the tiled floor.
Through the walls, he hears a muffled voice bark an order, followed by the thudding of boots on the stairs.
Hugo tiptoes over to the window, carefully opens the blind and tries to see if he can make anything out in the dark garden.
