Lars Kepler - The Sandman

‘What you were right about?’ Carlos repeats shrilly. ‘Everything, Joona. You were right about everything. Is that enough now? I think that’s probably enough...’

Joona smiles briefly and Carlos sits down with a sigh.

‘Mikael Kohler-Frost’s general condition is already much better, and I’ve questioned him a couple of times... Naturally, I was hoping that Mikael would be able to identify the accomplice.’

‘Maybe it’s too soon,’ Nathan says thoughtfully.

‘No... Mikael can’t give us a name, or a description... he can’t even give us a voice, but—’

‘Is he traumatised?’ Magdalena Ronander asks.

‘He’s simply never seen him,’ Joona says, meeting her gaze.

‘So we’ve got nothing at all to go on?’ Carlos whispers.

Joona steps forward and his shadow falls across the table and the room.

‘Mikael calls his kidnapper the Sandman... I asked Reidar Frost about it, and he explained that the name comes from a bedtime story the children’s mother used to tell them... The Sandman is some sort of personification of sleep; he throws sand in children’s eyes to get them to fall asleep.’

‘That’s right,’ Magdalena says with a smile. ‘And the proof that the Sandman has been there is the little gritty deposits at the corners of your eyes when you wake up.’

‘The Sandman,’ Pollock says thoughtfully, and jots something down in his black notebook.

Anja takes Joona’s phone and starts to connect it to the wireless sound system.

‘Mikael and Felicia Kohler-Frost are half-German. Roseanna Kohler moved to Sweden from Schwabach when she was eight years old,’ Joona explains.

‘That’s south of Nuremburg,’ Carlos adds.

‘The Sandman is their version of Wee Willie Winkie,’ Joona goes on. ‘And every evening before the children said their prayers she would tell them a bit more about him... Over the years she mixed up the story from her own childhood with a load of things she made up herself, and with fragments about E. T. A. Hoffmann’s barometer salesman and mechanical girls... Mikael and Felicia were only ten and eight years old, and they thought it was the Sandman who had taken them.’

The men and women seated round the table watch Anja prepare the recording of Mikael’s account. Their faces are sombre. For the first time they’re about to hear Jurek Walter’s only surviving victim talk about what happened.

‘In other words, we can’t identify the accomplice,’ Joona says. ‘Which leaves the location... If Mikael can lead us back there, then...’

There’s a hiss from the loudspeakers and certain sounds are emphasised, like the rustle of paper, while others are barely audible. At times Reidar’s sobbing can be heard, such as when his son talks about Felicia’s space-capsule fantasy.

As they listen, Nathan Pollock makes notes and Magdalena Ronander types non-stop on her laptop.

‘You say it’s impossible to escape,’ they hear Joona say seriously. ‘Yet that’s precisely what you did.’

‘It is impossible, it wasn’t like that,’ Mikael Kohler-Frost replies quickly.

‘How was it, then?’

‘The Sandman blew his dust over us and when I woke up I realised I wasn’t in the capsule any more,’ Mikael says. ‘It was completely dark, but I could hear that the room was different, and could tell that Felicia wasn’t there. I felt my way forward until I came to a door with a handle... and I opened it and found myself in a corridor... I don’t think I was aware that I was escaping, I just knew I had to keep moving forward... I came to a locked door and thought I’d ended up in a trap, because obviously I realised that the Sandman might come back any second... I panicked and broke the glass with my hand, and reached through to unlock it... I ran through a storeroom full of boxes and bags of cement... and then I saw that the wall to the right was nothing more than a plastic sheet stapled in place... I was having trouble breathing, and I could feel my fingers bleeding as I tried to pull the plastic down. I knew I’d hurt myself on the glass, but I didn’t care, I just carried on across a big concrete floor... the room wasn’t finished, and I kept going until I found myself walking on snow... the sky wasn’t completely dark by then... I ran past a digger with a blue star on it and carried on into the forest, and started to realise that I was free. I ran through trees and undergrowth and got covered in snow, I never looked back, just kept on going, across a field and up into a clump of trees, and suddenly I couldn’t go any further. A broken branch had jabbed straight into my thigh, I was completely stuck, I couldn’t move. Blood was running down into the snow and it hurt badly. I tried to pull free, but I was stuck fast... I thought I might be able to break the branch, but I was too weak, I just couldn’t do it. So I stood there. I was sure I could hear the Sandman’s porcelain fingers clicking. When I turned to look behind me I slipped and the branch came out. I don’t know if I passed out... I was much slower now, but I got to my feet and carried on up a slope, I was stumbling and kept thinking I couldn’t go any further, then I was crawling, and I found myself on a railway track. I’ve no idea how long I walked, I was freezing, but I kept going, occasionally I could see houses in the distance but I was so exhausted that I stuck to the tracks... It was snowing more and more, but it was like I was walking in a trance, it never occurred to me to stop, I just wanted to get further away...’

When Mikael has stopped talking and the hissing noise from the speakers has ceased, there’s total silence in the meeting room. Carlos stands up. He’s biting one of his thumbnails as he stares blankly into space.

‘We abandoned two children,’ he eventually says in a quiet voice. ‘They were missing, but we said they were dead and just went on with our lives.’

‘We were actually convinced that was true, though,’ Benny says gently.

‘Joona wanted to carry on,’ murmurs Anja.

‘But in the end even I didn’t believe they were still alive,’ says Joona.

‘And there was nothing left to go on,’ Pollock points out. ‘No evidence, no witnesses...’

Carlos’s cheeks are pale as he puts a hand to his neck and tries to undo the top button of his shirt.

‘But they were alive,’ he says, almost in a whisper.

‘Yes,’ Joona replies.

‘I’ve seen a lot, but this...’ Carlos says, tugging at his collar again. ‘I just can’t understand why. I mean, why the hell? I don’t get it, I just...’

‘There’s nothing to get,’ Anja says kindly. ‘You need a drink of water.’

‘Why would anyone keep two children locked up for all those years?’ he goes on, his voice raised. ‘Making sure that they survived, but nothing more, no blackmail, no violence, no abuse...’

Anja tries to lead him from the room, but he resists and grabs Nathan Pollock’s arm.

‘Find the girl,’ he says. ‘Whatever you do, find her today!’

‘I’m not sure—’

‘Find her!’ Carlos cuts in, then leaves the meeting room.

Anja returns shortly afterwards. The members of the group mutter and look through their papers. Tommy Kofoed is smiling a strained smile to himself. Benny is sitting with his mouth open, absentmindedly poking at Magdalena’s sports bag with his toes.

‘What’s wrong with you all?’ Anja asks sharply. ‘Didn’t you hear what the boss said?’

The group quickly agrees that Magdalena and Kofoed should put together a response team and a forensics unit while Joona tries to identify a preliminary search area to the south of Södertälje Syd station.

Joona studies a printout of the last picture that was taken of Felicia. He doesn’t know how many times he’s looked at it. Her eyes are big and dark, her long black hair is draped over her shoulder in a loose plait. She’s holding a riding hat and smiling shrewdly at the camera.