Page 46 of The Sleepwalker

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Joona is working on the theory that Hugo is relieved the prosecutor dropped the case against him and released him from custody. He plans to reinforce that feeling and – without lying – get the boy to believe that he no longer needs to stick to every detail of his initial statement.

He drives slowly down the narrow road in Mälarhöjden. To his right, there are a number of exclusive lakefront properties. To the left, behind the high supporting wall, the steep gardens belonging to the houses further up the slope loom above the road.

Joona slows down, passing the iron gates flanking the driveway and pulling up in a small parking area.

The mailbox is full of damp flyers.

As he gets out of the car, Joona finds himself thinking about the second prong of his strategy: encouraging Hugo to ignore Bernard’s attempts to stop him from talking.

That will require him to plant a seed of doubt in Bernard’s mind, making him think that his son hasn’t quite been fully cleared and, at the opportune moment, causing him to worry about Hugo saying too much.

The idea is that if Bernard tries to stop his son from talking, it will have the opposite effect, for the simple reason that people don’t like to be told what to do.

Joona makes his way in through the gates and down the driveway towards a grand yellow home with a black gable roof.

Beyond the house, the large lawn slopes down to a small cabin by the water.

Joona walks straight over to the door, taking his phone out of his inner pocket, starting the recorder and putting it back into his jacket.

He rings the bell and hears a digital tune echo inside, followed a moment later by footsteps on the tiled floor.

Bernard Sand opens the door.

His greying hair is standing on end, and he has dark bags beneath both eyes, but he is clean-shaven and wearing a brown corduroy suit with leather patches on the elbows.

‘Joona Linna,’ says Joona, shaking his hand. ‘We met while Hugo was in custody.’

‘Of course. Come in, come in. You can leave your coat here,’ says Bernard. ‘I’m sorry if I seemed a little guarded last time we met; this whole business has been terribly hard. Particularly for my son, of course, but also for me. Do you have children?’

‘An adult daughter,’ Joona replies as he hangs up his coat.

‘Ah, then you know what it’s like .?.?. Come in.’ Bernard leads him down the hallway. ‘I thought we might sit in the kitchen. Or perhaps you’d rather I didn’t stay? I’m not quite sure how these things work.’

‘It’d be fine for you or Agneta to join us.’

‘Agneta is at the office all day.’ Bernard pauses outside the closed kitchen door, turns to Joona and attempts a relaxed smile. ‘Hugo isn’t a suspect anymore, is he? I mean .?.?. It’s awful to admit, but when the solicitor called to tell us about the second victim .?.?. That was the first time I’ve ever thought that there might be an upside to murder.’

‘The investigation hasn’t been closed, it has just entered a new stage where the prosecutor no longer suspects Hugo of any crime,’ Joona explains.

‘And you?’

‘So long as something isn’t impossible, it’s still possible.’

‘Even murdering someone in Sollentuna while locked up in Stockholm?’

‘You’re an author,’ Joona points out.

‘He could have been working with someone else .?.?. if that’s what you mean?’

‘All I’m saying is that it isn’t impossible .?.?. Though I see Hugo as a witness at present.’

‘So you don’t think we need a solicitor anymore?’ Bernard asks with a frown.

‘I don’t think so, but if you’d feel more comfortable having one then that’s fine. Hugo is a minor, and this is a formal interview.’

Bernard knocks softly and opens the door to the kitchen, where there is a brass Advent star hanging in the window. Hugo is sitting at the table with a can of Red Bull and a dog-eared chemistry book in front of him. He is wearing glasses, and has his hair tied up in a bun.

The teenager is pale and beautiful, if a little rough around the edges, with his tattooed arms, the dark gash on his forehead, the yellowing bruise on his cheek and bandages on three fingers.