Page 62 of The Sleepwalker
Pontus reaches up and touches his face, taking in his sticky hair and the bump on his cheek. He feels a searing pain, and he gasps.
‘I’ve got money,’ he slurs, taking out his phone. ‘I can make a transfer. Just give me your account number and .?.?.’
Swallowing blood, he dials 112 and puts his phone down on the railing. He is just about to explain that there is a limit of two million on his account when the figure twists towards him again.
Their shoulders move jerkily, with a dry, rattling sound.
The blow knocks Pontus to one side. The blade of the axe has struck his upper arm, and the pain is immediate and unbearable.
‘What the hell, you hit me!’ he cries out in shock.
He reaches for the wound with his other hand, groaning in pain. He can feel hot blood and soft flesh, smooth edges and broken bone. This can’t be happening. He is about to pass out, needs to lie down. His arm has been completely severed, and the only thing holding it in place is a scrap of fabric from the inside of his shirt and coat sleeves.
‘Listen,’ he says between shallow breaths. ‘Listen, I don’t know what—’
The next stroke hits him in almost exactly the same place, knocking the wind out of him and causing him to stagger to the side and crash against the railing.
His arm drops lower, now hanging by his thigh.
The pain is explosive, like hugging a red-hot poker. Impossible to let go, no matter how much it hurts.
Pontus is pulled along with the blade as the person yanks it back, but he remains on his feet.
He splutters and sees the axe swinging through the air again. The sharp blade is getting closer to his face, but for some reason he finds himself thinking about the bees gathering nectar from the heather.
They were early bumblebees. A tiny species, no bigger than apea.
As his head is severed from his body, he remembers the way he used to tame the little bees by cupping his hands around them. The shockwave meant they were unable to fly for a few minutes, and they would crawl over his skin as though they felt some sort of affection for him. As though they actually wanted to stay.
22
Joona and his team from the NCU met with the Prosecution Authority this morning, to take them through the current state of the investigation.
They have spoken to the family of the second victim, to his friends, colleagues, fellow conference delegates and hotel staff.
Test results, autopsy reports and forensic analyses continue to flood in, but as yet they haven’t made any breakthroughs.
Two targeted victims and one dead witness.
There are no obvious links between the three, which led Joona to say what no one wanted to hear:
‘We’ll have a new victim on our hands soon.’
He is now alone in the investigation room, studying the photographs on the wall and thinking about the similarities and differences between the two primary murders.
Both were married middle-class men with children.
Josef Lindgren’s body parts were scattered between different rooms in the caravan, while Nils Nordlund was found on his knees in the water with his head on the ice in front of him.
The first victim had repeatedly visited free porn sites online, and had on three occasions posted in a thread about buying sex on Flashback, where someone had recommended that he turn to the Darknet. He had downloaded and installed a Tor browser in the spring, but there is no way of knowing whether he everactually used it to procure sex.
No trace of pornography was found on either of the second victim’s computers, nor did he use any encryption software. Nils Nordlund’s phone is still missing, however, which means that they do not yet have the full picture of his activities. It has likely been destroyed or deactivated, because it no longer seems to be in use.
The door opens and Saga comes into the room. She sits down opposite Joona, leans back and meets his eye.
‘I shouldn’t be here,’ she says quietly.
‘But I really need your help.’
