Lars Kepler - The Nightmare

“Oh, it’s you, Beverly,” he says in surprise.

Her face is dusty and she’s holding a white dandelion ball in her hand.

“I didn’t want to talk to the police,” she says.

“Where’s Robert?”

“I hitchhiked home,” she says. “It wasn’t hard. I got a ride right away.”

“Why do you hitchhike? You might have been-”

“Don’t be mad. I really didn’t do anything wrong. But there’s something very important that I have to tell you.”

The telephone in his jacket starts to vibrate again.

“Just a moment, Beverly, I have to get this,” he says.

He searches through his jacket pockets and finds his cell phone. He answers, “Axel Riessen here.”

A voice that seems to come from far away says, “Hello?”

“Hello,” Axel says.

“This is Raphael Guidi.” The voice is deep and the English is accented. “Please excuse the noise on the line. At the moment, I’m at sea, on my way to Latvia. I’m afraid that once we get out on the Baltic, we may lose our connection altogether.”

“I can hear you,” Axel says politely while Beverly walks over to the bed and sits.

“Let me get down to business,” Raphael Guidi says. “I’m calling you because I need to know that your signature is on the export authorization. I’d already thought that the container ship would have been able to leave the harbor by now.”

Axel holds the phone close to his ear. He walks into the library but can’t hear much besides his own breathing. He thinks about the photograph with Raphael Guidi, Carl Palmcrona, Agathe al-Haji, and Pontus Salman. He remembers how Palmcrona had raised his champagne glass and was laughing so that his teeth shone.

“Are you still there?” asks Raphael Guidi on the crackling line.

“I am not going to sign the authorization form,” Axel replies shortly, and shivers run up and down his spine.

“Maybe there’s a way I can convince you to change your mind,” Raphael Guidi says. “Think whether or not there’s something I can offer you that would help-”

“You have nothing I want.”

“I believe you may be wrong about that. Whenever I sign a contract, I-”

Axel hangs up. He slides the phone back into his jacket pocket. He’s filled with discomfort, almost a premonition, and begins to walk to the hallway door leading to the staircase. As he looks through the window, he spies movement in the park: shadows among the bushes heading toward his house. Axel whirls and looks out the other window but sees nothing.

There’s a clink from the bottom floor, as if one of the small panes of glass broke in the sunshine. Axel thinks the whole thing is absurd and at the same time realizes what’s going on. His body fills with adrenaline, and he has heightened awareness of his surroundings. Heart racing, he moves as swiftly as he can without running. He heads straight toward Beverly in his bedroom. Beautiful sunlight is flooding in through the gaps in the venetian blinds and landing at Beverly’s feet. Beverly has gotten undressed and crawled back into the unmade bed. She has the volume of Durrenmatt on her stomach.

“Axel,” she says, “I came back because I have to tell you some really good news-”

“Don’t be afraid, now.” He interrupts her. “Just do as I say. Hide underneath the bed right now. Don’t move or make a sound. Stay there for one hour.”

Beverly does what he says without question. She crawls beneath the bed.

Axel hears the tromping of feet coming up the stairs. There’s at least two of them, he thinks. Beverly’s jeans and T-shirt are on a chair. He picks them up and throws them under the bed.

His heart is pounding and his thoughts are whirling as he looks around, not knowing what to do.

He grabs his telephone from his jacket and runs out of the bedroom and into the library. He can hear the sound of feet in the hallway, also heading to the library.

His hands are shaking as he tries to punch a number into his phone. He hears the floor creak as someone rushes into the room. There’s no time to call. He tries to head over to the window so he can yell into the street for help, but someone grabs his right wrist while jamming a cool instrument against his throat. He doesn’t realize it’s a stun gun; 69,000 volts of electricity pulse through his body.

The sparking of electricity can be heard in the room, but Axel only feels heavy blows, as if someone were beating his throat with an iron pipe. He doesn’t even hear himself screaming. His brain shuts down and the world around him disappears.

The man who attacked him has already taped his mouth shut by the time Axel starts coming to. Axel finds he’s lying on the floor and his body is jerking in spasms. His arms and legs are flailing. A burning bite on his throat hits him with pain. He has no chance to defend himself.

The men brusquely move Axel’s arms and legs so that they can wrap him in white plastic. The plastic crackles softly and he believes that he’s going to suffocate. However, air is able to come through to him. The men tape up the plastic and then lift him like a rug. Axel tries to struggle, but he’s no longer in control of his own muscles. The two men carry him down the staircase, out through the front door, and into a waiting garbage truck.

Joona tries to call Pontus Salman back to shore. The rowboat glides farther away. Joona runs from the dock to the meet the psychologist and the two colleagues from Sodertalje. He accompanies them back to the dock and tells them to be careful, but he doesn’t believe that Pontus Salman is a danger to himself or others.

“But keep him in custody,” Joona says. “I’ll be in touch as soon as I can.” He hurries back to his car.

As Joona drives over the bridge over Fittjaviken, he reflects on Pontus Salman and how Salman sat in the rowboat and told Joona how he was convinced that Axel Riessen would want to sign the Paganini contract.

Joona had asked Salman if Riessen could refuse, but he said that Riessen would not want to.

As he dials the number for Axel Riessen, Joona can see Veronique Salman in his mind’s eye. The disappointed expression around her mouth and the fear in her eyes as she described how once one had kissed Raphael Guidi on the hand, there was no way out.

Those words, “the nightmare,” keep returning, Joona thinks. Palmcrona’s housekeeper had used it. Veronique Salman had said that Raphael made sure that everyone would tell him their worst nightmare and Pontus Salman had said that Palmcrona had avoided his nightmare by committing suicide.

Pontus had said, He was able to escape reaping his nightmare.

Joona reflects on the fact that Stefan Bergkvist never knew that Carl Palmcrona was his father. He thinks about the unbearable heat that burned the flesh right off the bones and made the blood boil-the heat that burst the boy’s skull.

You can’t break a Paganini contract even if you die.

Joona tries again to reach Axel Riessen on the phone and then tries the direct number to the ISP.

“Can you connect me to Axel Riessen?” he asks quickly.

“I’m sorry. He is not reachable at the moment,” the receptionist replies.

“I’m a detective with the police and I need to speak to him right away.”

“I understand, but-”

“Interrupt him if he’s in a meeting.”

“He’s not here,” she replies, raising her voice. “He hasn’t come in this morning, and we haven’t been able to reach him by phone.”

“Now I know,” Joona says while hanging up.

Joona parks his Volvo on Brahegatan outside the gate to Axel Riessen’s mansion. The massive front door is just swinging shut as he approaches, and he races to ring the bell. The lock rattles and the door is reopened.