Page 9 of The Sleepwalker
Bernard watches Agneta’s Lexus pull away with a racing heart. He then finishes off her coffee and sets the cup down on the charging post.
He has just decided that he will wake Hugo in good time ahead of his meeting with theKULTteam in Uppsala when a police car turns off onto the driveway and comes to a halt.
Bernard tightens the belt of his dressing gown as an officer gets out of the car and walks towards him with a serious look on her face.
‘Bernard Sand?’
‘Yes .?.?.’
‘A young man claiming to be your son was arrested last night.’
‘Hold on a second.’
‘He didn’t have any ID on him, so we need you to confirm his identity.’
‘I’m not sure I understand.’
‘Is your son Hugo Sand?’
‘Yes, but he’s asleep .?.?. I’m going to wake him at nine.’
‘When did you last see him?’
‘Yesterday evening.’
She sighs and takes out a phone, then makes a brief call to the prosecutor to ask for the images from the booking following the arrest in Bredäng.
‘Could you tell me what happened?’ Bernard asks with a rising sense of panic.
‘I’m afraid I can’t go into any more detail before you—’
‘Is he hurt?’
The woman doesn’t speak, just stands quietly with the phone in her hand. After a moment or two, it pings, and she opens the message and holds it up to him with a neutral expression on her face.
It feels as though a jet of hot air has just blown straight through Bernard’s skull. He fumbles for something to lean against and knocks the cup from the charging post.
Hugo’s frightened, dirty face is pale in the harsh glare of the flash. He has his mother’s delicate features, but his shoulder-length hair is knotted. The police must have confiscated his nose and lip rings, his earring and necklace. In the image, his tattoos make it look like he has dipped both arms in clay.
A board has been placed in front of him, the spaces for his name and ID number left empty. The only information provided is his height, the image number, the district ID and the date.
‘That’s him, that’s my son .?.?.’ Bernard says, clutching hisstomach with a trembling hand. ‘But I don’t understand, there must be some sort of misunderstanding .?.?. I’m sure you’ve heard that before, but I .?.?. I .?.?.’
‘Is there anyone else in your house at the moment?’
‘No, I don’t think so. I—’
‘You don’tknow?’
‘I thought Hugo was in his room, but if he’s not .?.?. then no, I’m the only one.’
‘OK, thank you.’
‘I can go in and check?’
‘We’ll need you to stay out here until forensics arrive, but if you’re cold, you’re welcome to wait in our car,’ says the officer.
‘I’m not cold, I can’t even think about that right now. Sorry, but I need to know what’s going on,’ Bernard says, his voice faltering.
