Lars Kepler - The Hypnotist

“I don’t know. They said they’ve been trying for fifty minutes.”

“What the hell. Then they need to send backup,” says Joona.

“That’s what I told them, but they said they wanted to wait and see what happened.”

As they set off to walk the short distance to the plane that is waiting to take them to Vilhelmina Airport in southern Lapland, Erik suddenly feels a brief, strange surge of relief: he was right all along.

He lifts his face to the falling snow. The flakes whirl and swirl, heavy and light at the same time. Simone turns and takes his hand.

Benjamin is lying on the floor, listening to the rocking chair creak stickily against the shiny surface of the plastic mat. His joints ache painfully, an ache that has intensified over the past few days. The chair rocks slowly back and forth. The wind blows across the tin roof. Suddenly the crude hinge on the porch door sings its metallic song. Heavy footsteps approach down the hall. Someone stamps the snow off their boots. Benjamin raises his head, but the dog leash tightens around his neck when he tries to see who has come into the room.

“Lie down,” Lydia murmurs.

He lowers his head to the floor, once again feeling the long coarse pile of the woven rug against his cheek, the dry smell of dust filling his nose.

“It’s the fourth Sunday in Advent in three days,” says Jussi. “We ought to make ginger biscuits.”

“Sundays are for discipline and nothing else,” says Lydia, continuing to rock.

Marek grins at something but doesn’t speak.

“Go on, laugh,” says Lydia.

“It was nothing.”

“Laugh,” says Lydia, her voice subdued. “I want my family to be happy.”

“We are,” Marek replies.

The floor is cold, and a cold draft seeps through the walls. The dust bunnies among the cables behind the television are drifting around. Benjamin is still wearing only his pyjamas. He thinks back to their arrival at Jussi’s haunted house. There was already snow on the ground, and since then it has snowed, thawed, and frozen hard again. Marek led him through an area crammed with dilapidated vehicles at the front of the house, old buses covered in snow and scrap cars piled high. The snow burned Benjamin’s bare feet. It felt like walking in a dry moat between the great heaps of snow-covered cars in the failing light.

There was a light on in the house, and when Jussi came out onto the porch, his elk gun over his arm, and caught sight of Lydia, it was as if all his determination abandoned him. She was not expected, nor was she welcome. But he was not about to offer any resistance, he would simply submit to her will, as usual. He merely shook his head when Marek took the gun from him.

Then there were footsteps on the porch, and Annbritt came out. Jussi had mumbled that Annbritt was his partner and they ought to let her go. When Annbritt saw the dog collar and leash around Benjamin’s neck, the colour drained from her face and she tried to go back into the house and shut the door, but Marek stopped her by inserting the barrel of the gun between the door and the frame and asked her with a smile if they might come in.

“Shall we discuss Christmas dinner?” Annbritt asks now, her voice uncertain.

“The most important things are the herring and the boar,” says Jussi.

Lydia sighs irritably. Benjamin gazes up at the gold-coloured ceiling fan, four gold lamps clustered beneath the blades. Its shadow looks like a grey flower against the white ceiling.

“I expect the boy will want meatballs,” says Jussi.

“We’ll see,” Lydia replies.

Marek spits into a potted plant and looks out into the darkness. “I’m getting hungry,” he says.

“We’ve got plenty of elk and venison in the freezer,” says Jussi.

Marek goes over to the table, pokes about in the bread basket, breaks off a piece, and stuffs it in his mouth.

When Benjamin looks up, Lydia automatically yanks the leash. He coughs and puts his head down again. He is hungry and tired.

“I need my medicine soon,” he says.

“You’ll be just fine,” replies Lydia.

“I have to have an injection once a week, and it’s been more than a week since- ”

“Shut up.”

“I’ll die if I don’t.”

Lydia jerks the leash so hard that Benjamin whimpers with pain. He starts to cry, and she jerks it again to shut him up.

Marek switches on the television; it makes a crackling noise and a distant voice can be heard; it could be a soccer game. Marek flicks between the channels without getting a picture and switches it off.

“I should have brought the TV from the other house,” he says.

“It’s not the TV. There just aren’t any cable channels up here,” says Jussi.

“You’re an idiot,” says Lydia.

“Why doesn’t the dish work?” asks Marek.

“I don’t know,” says Jussi. “It gets very windy here. It’s probably twisted.”

“Fix it then,” says Marek.

“You fix it!”

“Shut up,” says Lydia.

“There’s nothing but crap on television anyway,” Jussi mutters.

“I like Let’s Dance ,” says Marek.

“Can I go to the toilet?” Benjamin asks quietly.

“You piss outside,” says Lydia.

“All right.”

“Take him out, Marek,” Lydia instructs.

“Jussi can do it,” he replies.

“Why can’t he go by himself?” complains Jussi. “He can’t run away, it’s minus five out there, and it’s a long way to- ”

“Get off your ass and go with him,” Lydia breaks in. “I’ll keep an eye on Annbritt in the meantime.”

Sitting up makes Benjamin feel dizzy. He sees that Jussi has taken the dog leash from Lydia. Benjamin’s knees are stiff, and a sharp pain shoots up his thighs when he starts to walk. Every step is unbearable, but he grits his teeth in an effort to remain silent. He doesn’t want to annoy Lydia.

There are diplomas hanging along the wall in the hall. Dim light comes from a brass sconce with a frosted glass shade. A plastic bag from the ICA supermarket with the words quality, courtesy, service has been dropped on the cork-coloured vinyl floor.

“I need to take a shit,” says Jussi, letting go of the leash. “Wait on the porch when you come back.”

Jussi clutches his belly, disappears into the bathroom, puffing and blowing, and locks the door behind him. Benjamin can see Annbritt’s curved, strong back through the gap in the door. He hears Marek rhapsodizing about Greek pizza.

Lydia’s dark green padded jacket is hanging on a hook in the hallway. Benjamin looks around and then goes through the pockets rapidly, finding the house keys, a gold-coloured purse, and his own mobile. The battery is very low, but there should be enough life in it for at least one call. His heart quickening, he creeps out into the bitter cold. The snow has been cleared from the path leading down to the woodshed, and he sets off on his bare feet, trying to ignore the pain in his aching joints. In the darkness he can just make out the round shapes of the snow-covered cars and old buses in the yard. His hands are stiff and shaking with cold.

Reception is poor. He calls his mother’s number and presses the phone to his ear, his hand trembling. He hears the first crackling signal just as the door opens. It’s Jussi. They stare at each other. It doesn’t occur to Benjamin to hide the phone. Perhaps he ought to run, but where would he go? Jussi strides toward him, his face pale and agitated.

“Are you finished?” he asks loudly, looking behind him.

Jussi reaches Benjamin and looks him in the eye; they have made an agreement. He takes Benjamin’s phone and continues on down to the woodshed as Lydia emerges from the house.