by Karin Nordin
You wanted to forget.
And he did. He forgot the hours from when he shot himself up with whatever poisonous concoction Vidar had sold to him when he woke up on that cold unfamiliar floor. But he didn’t forget what had happened to him. That he still remembered. That would never go away no matter how many joints he smoked, veins he collapsed, or detergents he sniffed. He would always wake up and his first thought would be the same.
Bodies. Bodies everywhere.
He pressed his palm against the floor and pushed himself up. His finger slipped and a tiny piece of wood from the planks jabbed into his skin.
‘Dammit,’ he cursed under his breath as he sat up. He narrowed his eyes to see the splinter, but it was too dark. His legs were tired, half asleep. He crawled closer to that thin stream of light from the window and raised his hand. Then he squeezed at the pad of his finger to try to squeeze the splinter out. No such luck.
He slumped. It was then that he realised he wasn’t at the commune. A slow creeping terror that began at his lower back idled up his spine until it pinched the nerves in the nape of his neck. It was the same walls from his memory. The same musty odour of wet wood and rainy pine nettles. The same dingy curtains. The same floor, now empty, where his friends had puked up their guts just before spasming to their deaths. He remembered their eyes, glossed over, protruding in horror as their mouths foamed, pink with blood.
He was overcome by another dry heave, his throat clenching up and cutting off his air supply until he inhaled a deep breath through his nostrils.
Along the wall was a pop-up camping table and at the centre was a punch bowl. The punch bowl. Filled to the brim with a sweet-smelling reddish liquid.
He crawled to his feet and made his way over to the table. A single cup sat beside the bowl.
Oh, God. Please be dreaming. Please don’t let this be real.
‘It’s the only way out.’
Jonny’s head snapped to the side. There was a figure in the corner, shrouded in the shadows. He hadn’t noticed them before. They were so still. Could they be real? Or was this just another hallucination?
‘I can’t,’ he whimpered. ‘I don’t want to die.’
‘But you don’t want to remember either,’ the voice said.
That was true. He wanted to forget. But nothing helped him forget.
‘You were supposed to join them. You were never supposed to be here.’
Jonny’s heart sank because he knew that was also true. He could still remember his girlfriend convulsing on the floor. He’d watched the light go out of her eyes. He’d watched as she went from laughing to choking to dead in a matter of minutes. The fact that she was dying hadn’t even processed in his mind. It was all too fast. Too sudden. She was laughing, celebrating. And then she was dead. Then they were all dead.
‘It’s not a shame to wish you’d been with them,’ the voice said. There was a lilting quality to the tone, convincing.
‘I can’t die.’
‘You can’t live either. You’ve tried that. How successful has that been?’
More truths. This must have been a dream. His subconscious was reaching out to him with the answer to the question he’d been struggling with for the last four years. How did he move on? How did he live when his every thought circled the concept of death? A death he’d avoided by pure happenstance.
‘Will it hurt?’ he asked.
‘No more than life,’ the voice replied.
And wasn’t that the hardest truth of all?
He picked up the cup and held it above the bowl. His fingers trembled. Then he steeled himself, tensed the muscles in his arm, and dunked the cup in the punch. One sip and the nightmare would be over.
Bottoms up.
Chapter 32
To say the downpour that morning had been torrential was an understatement. The rain flooded over the flimsy awning above his back patio like a raging waterfall. The small playground at the bottom of the hill was completely underwater. Even the swings skirted the top of a free-formed stream that surged through the lots. Kjeld had no desire to go outside, but after being stuck indoors for two days in a row watching animated princess films, he was willing to endure any weather conditions just to get out of the house.
Luckily for him, Gothenburg was home to Universeum. Complete with a replica rainforest, space experience, chemistry laboratory, and one of the biggest aquariums in the world, it was certain to provide a full day of entertainment for Tove. And with Tove’s newfound interest in sea creatures, something Kjeld had only learned that weekend, he was guaranteed to win a few fatherly bonus points.
Much to his dismay, however, half the parents in Gothenburg had the exact same idea as him. The narrow corridors were packed with screaming children and frantic parents, accidentally pushing prams into the backs of his calves whenever he stopped in the middle of the walkway because some random child decided to have a tearful fit in front of him. Or bumping against his shoulder when he slowed his pace to catch sight of Tove when she darted off to another exhibit. The dark corners, illuminated only by the hazy blue lighting from the glass of the aquariums and the phosphorescent gleam of certain species, darting about in the deep water, made it difficult to keep track of her.
Kjeld wasn’t the biggest fan of open water. It wasn’t a phobia, but more of an unsettling apprehension of things he couldn’t see. He’d never been comfortable on boats or in the ocean. There were too many unknowns. Too many opportunities for things to go wrong. And while he was certain there was nothing to fear from the thick glass that separated him from those aquatic creatures, the combination of children screeching in enthusiasm and people crowding the dimly lit pathways caused his heart to race from nervous claustrophobia.
He almost didn’t notice when his phone rang. Fortunately, he caught it on the third ring, just before it went to voicemail. It was Esme. He chalked up the sudden silence on her end to her shock that he’d actually picked up.
‘Give me a minute,’ Kjeld said, switching his phone from his left hand to his right to avoid inadvertently whacking a young mother with his elbow. ‘I need to get some place where I can hear you.’
Kjeld skirted around small groups of families and children who ran up and down the corridor, yelling at their parents, ‘Mama, see this! Papa, look at that!’ The room was dark aside from the blue glow of the tanks and the vibrant colours of exotic fish. In contrast, the people were all black shadows, unrecognisable until they pressed their faces close to the glass and caught a reflection of the lights that shone down from above the water.
Tove skipped up ahead with another young girl she’d made friends with, pointing at all of the brightly coloured fish and giggling. Her wild head of curls, which Kjeld hadn’t had time to put up in a ponytail that morning, bobbed with each step, helping him keep her in sight.
Kjeld followed them around a corner towards the aptly named Shark Tunnel, a curved tank that surrounded the corridor like a dome, allowing viewers to feel like they were in the tank itself. It reminded him of a trip he and Bengt had taken to Aruba early in their relationship. It was supposed to be romantic with its sandy beaches, crystal-clear water, and all-you-can-drink cocktails. But Kjeld had read too many statistics on unexplained ocean deaths, and after an uncomfortable scuba diving incident on the first day he kept himself firmly planted in the hotel room for the rest of the trip.
Needless to say, he had misgivings when it came to the ocean. And being beneath 1.4 million litres of water and carnivorous fish didn’t endear him to it any more than that ill-fated trip had. His abdominal muscles tightened as he walked through the tunnel, avoiding the sideways stares of a shark that followed along to his right before disappearing into the darkness of the tank. He kept his focus aimed towards the ground and the groups of clamouring children, periodically catching sight of Tove as she jumped up and down in the crowd to get a better look at the sharks.
‘Can you hear me better now?’ Kjeld asked, but Esme’s voice was garbled in response. ‘Shit.�
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A young boy bumped into his leg just as Kjeld caught a glimpse of a sting ray crossing overhead. The illusion of being underwater set him off balance and he cursed again under his breath. Maybe he should have tried to have this conversation outside the exhibit. Not that it would be any less noisy in the café.
‘Don’t go too far, Tove!’
Tove beamed at him with the biggest smile he’d seen in years and were it not for Esme continually calling his name from his phone, he might have forgotten she’d called at all.
He pushed himself up near the glass of the corridor and brought the phone to his ear. ‘Sorry about that.’
‘Where are you?’ Esme asked. ‘You sound like you’re in a tunnel.’
‘Technically I’m underwater,’ he said, watching as a school of blue and yellow fish swam overhead.
‘We’ve found another body.’
‘What? Where?’
‘The Estuary. Ove’s on the scene and gave us a quick time-of-death estimate. According to him the murder could have taken place as early as this morning. Sixten and I are on site now.’ Esme paused. ‘We just missed him, Kjeld. We were so close.’
‘Who called it in?’
There was a moment’s hesitation on Esme’s part before she answered and Kjeld caught his shoulders tensing in preparation for her response. ‘I did.’
‘What?’
‘I was going through the CCTV footage again and I came across an image of a young man who matched Linnea’s description of the person Louisa had been speaking to at the library. I recognised him. It was Jonny Lindh.’
It took Kjeld a moment to make the connection between the name and Louisa. Two survivors of violent serial murderers. ‘Jonny Lindh from the graduation massacre? And you didn’t call me?’
‘It was your day off. And with the scare you and Bengt had with Tove I thought it was best to let you be until we had real results to share. It all happened so fast.’ Another pause. This one felt more apologetic than the last. ‘But you need to be here for this one.’
Tove turned a corner, chasing a blacktip reef shark that was skirting along the inner edge of the tank. Kjeld followed after her, trying to keep his focus on her instead of the millions of pounds of pressure pushing against the glass all around him.
‘I’ve got Tove with me for the rest of the day. Bengt is out of town until tomorrow evening. I don’t have anyone who can watch her.’ But he was already mentally running down the list of people he knew who might be able to keep an eye on her for a few hours.
There was a pause on the other end of the line. When Esme finally spoke there was a fearfulness in her tone that shook Kjeld from his thoughts. ‘It’s the same MO, Kjeld.’
‘Fire?’
‘No.’ Esme sighed. ‘It matches the graduation massacre. It’s the same method of death Jonny’s classmate intended for him four years ago.’
Chapter 33
The Nordre älv estuary was a 7000-hectare nature reserve that sat at the mouth of the Kattegat and Göta rivers, twenty-six kilometres from the centre of Gothenburg. In the summertime it was a popular destination for hikers, birdwatchers, and sport-fishing enthusiasts. But in the wet rainy months of winter, the reserve was almost entirely abandoned. Many of the hiking paths that skirted the water’s edge were blocked off from overflooding and the favourite picnic spots for families became boggy pits of mud and grass.
Normally, Kjeld would have been able to drive the distance in less than thirty minutes. But the heavy barrage of sleet against his windscreen forced him to drive more slowly on the back roads, increasing the time to a nerve-racking hour. At one point his visibility had been so low that he nearly drove the vehicle off the road when he hit a slick patch where the rain coated a layer of black ice. Tove let out a laughing scream like a kid on a roller coaster. Kjeld, on the other hand, drove the rest of the way white-knuckled, shoulders hunched over the wheel as though leaning forward might help propel his car forward and protect them from the elements.
When he reached the nature reserve entrance nearest the popular bathing locations, he pulled his car off to the side of the road and parked. Up ahead he could see officers taping off a section of the trail, which Kjeld knew led to one of the park’s abandoned utility cabins. The one that had hidden one of the city’s most devastating discoveries four years ago.
Kjeld took a deep breath, held it in to a count of six, and exhaled. It was a trick Esme taught him. It was supposed to calm the nerves. It worked, although he’d never admit it. He glanced down at his phone. He’d already called Bengt three times since leaving the museum. Each time it had gone directly to voicemail. He even tried getting hold of Liam, albeit he only called him once, also to no avail. It was then that Kjeld realised he didn’t have the numbers to any of Tove’s friends’ parents, teachers, or dance instructors. He didn’t even know the name of her regular babysitter and when he asked her she could only tell him that she called her Ducky on account of some cartoon they watched together.
As a result, he had no other choice but to bring her with him. A tiny voice inside of him warned that it was a bad idea, but short of leaving her with his next-door neighbour, who was basically a stranger to him even after sharing a wall for nearly three years, there was nothing else he could do.
Tove sat in the back seat, clutching a stuffed hammerhead shark puppet that Kjeld had bought for her as a bribe for having to leave the science centre early. She kicked the back of his seat.
‘Can I come with you?’ Tove asked.
‘No, sweetheart. You have to stay in the car.’
‘But Papa always says I’m not allowed to be by myself in the car. Not even when we go to the supermarket.’
‘You’re not going to be sitting by yourself. One of my colleagues will be here to sit with you.’ Kjeld peered through the blurry windscreen towards the row of police and emergency vehicles up ahead that were blocking the lane to the car park. The rain hit the windscreen sideways and he turned on the wipers to get a better view. Esme had texted him that Sixten would wait in the car with Tove until Kjeld got back, but so far there was no sign of him.
‘But I want to go with you! I never get to go with you. Emelie Gunnarsson got to go with her mum to work one day. She told the entire class about it!’
‘What does Emelie Gunnarsson’s mum do?’
‘She’s a dog walker.’
Kjeld blinked. ‘A what?’
‘She walks dogs for people.’
‘Well, that’s completely different than my job. It’s a lot less dangerous.’
‘She told us that one time she got bit by a dachshund and had to get six stitches,’ Tove said, matter-of-factly.
Kjeld checked his phone for any missed messages. Nothing. Where the hell was Sixten? ‘I’ll be really quick, I promise. I just have to go check on something and then I’ll be right back.’
‘Was it a car accident?’ Tove traced her finger over the heart Bengt had drawn on her cast.
‘I don’t think so. But that’s what I have to go find out.’
‘Is it safe? Is there a bad guy out there?’
‘There’s no bad guy. Esme is already there. It’s perfectly safe.’
‘I want to see Esme!’ Tove smiled, her red ringlet curls falling in her face.
‘Maybe she can come see you afterwards.’
‘Daddy?’
‘Yes, Tove?’
‘Did somebody die?’
Kjeld was taken aback by that comment. Although he and Bengt had explained death to her when she was younger, when Bengt was very ill and things looked as though they wouldn’t improve, he hadn’t expected Tove to remember it. Let alone make the connection between his work and death. It seemed like such a grown-up question. One he wasn’t prepared to answer.
Fortunately, a familiar figure jogging towards the car saved him from having to come up with something on the spot.
‘Don’t think about that right now. Just sit here with your shark. Sixten is going to watch you for a bit
and I’ll be back in a few minutes.’
Sixten tugged open the passenger side of the car and climbed in, pushing back the hood of his parka to reveal his wild blond curls, half matted with rain.
‘Sorry about that. The press are starting to crowd the edges of the cordon tape. Some of them even walked the edge of the beach to get closer.’ He turned and glanced back at Tove with a toothy grin. ‘You must be Tove.’
Tove moved the mouth on her shark puppet. ‘Obviously.’
‘Just keep an eye on her until I get back.’
‘Sure thing, boss.’
Chapter 34
Kjeld stared down at the body of the young man that lay askew on the cabin floor. His skin was pale, almost transparent, and his lips were a deep shade of purple. The rest of his body appeared untouched. It was as though he’d simply fallen over and died. But even if Kjeld had come across this scene unexpectedly, he would have known that wasn’t the truth. Anywhere else in the park and it might have been an accident. But not here. And not now.
Esme had caught him up on the events he’d missed during his weekend off while he’d suited up. After Esme recognised Jonny on the CCTV footage outside the library, she and Sixten immediately put out an attempt-to-locate on Jonny. They’d driven to Jonny’s mother’s house first, hoping to find him there. When his mother confirmed that Jonny had been living at the commune, they checked there as well. But Sister Löv said he hadn’t been there in a few days. After that there was only one place Esme thought to go, and fearing the worst she drove directly to the scene of the crime from four years ago. But they’d been too late.
Inside the cabin there was an eerie silence, but outside was the muffled sound of officers holding back a small crowd of journalists that had somehow made their way past the cordon tape. The clicking of cameras sent a chill down Kjeld’s spine. After a moment their voices melded with the clamour of rain, filling the background with a monotonous din that allowed Kjeld’s thoughts to retreat into a memory. A memory of standing in the middle of that cabin once before. The ground littered with the bodies of dead teenagers.
