Ларс Кеплер - Stalker

He can feel the clattering of the rotors inside him. Erik presses against a tree, standing absolutely still as the branches lash around him.

This is completely mad, Erik thinks, feeling the whirling air tug at his clothes.

I was very nearly shot.

Dry earth and fallen pine needles fly up into his face.

The helicopter sweeps on, and the searchlight moves away through the forest, flickering through the tree trunks.

He’s the person they’re hunting.

In a few rays of light some twenty metres away he sees two heavily armed response unit officers with helmets, bulletproof vests and green assault rifles.

One of them turns in Erik’s direction just as the light of the helicopter reaches him through the canopy of trees.

Adrenalin shoots through Erik’s blood like an injection of ice.

A shot fires just as everything goes dark again. He see the flare of the barrel as the bullet slams into the tree trunk immediately above his head.

The sound of the shot echoes off the rocks.

The helicopter rises up and the clattering sound is deafening.

Erik rushes at a crouch across a clearing without looking back, sliding down on his backside, running through dense undergrowth, until he can see streetlights through the branches.

He carries on, approaching the road with caution. A car drives past and some distance away he can see a roadblock, spike strips, patrol cars and officers in black uniforms.

Erik hides behind some bushes, his back wet with sweat. The uniformed officers are close now. He can hear them talking into their radios, then they walk away, in the other direction, towards the command vehicle with its black windows.

The helicopter makes another circuit of the woodland. The sound echoes hard between the houses along the road. Erik slides down into the ditch and climbs up the other side, not looking at the police, and walks straight across the tarmac road. He hurries through two crooked gates next to a rusty turnstile, and follows a path leading to Västberga School’s playing field. A red running track forms a huge ellipsis round a football pitch, and the floodlights on their tall poles are illuminated.

Erik’s heart is beating so hard that it hurts his throat as he picks up one of the footballs by the fence behind the goal and walks over the touchline. He heads slowly across the pitch, in the middle of the lights, kicking the ball in front of him.

As he reaches the centre circle the helicopter flies over again. He doesn’t look up, just keeps kicking the football ahead of him.

With every metre the distance between him and the police is growing. With the ball at his feet he makes his way across the whole playing field.

The helicopter is already a long way away when Erik kicks the ball into the goal, crosses the track, climbs over the gate and emerges on to a road where the traffic appears to be flowing perfectly normally. He passes Telefonplan underground station, and is still heading away from the police operation when Joona Linna calls him.

‘Joona, what’s going on?’ Erik asks, trying to keep his voice steady. ‘The police are hunting me with a helicopter, they’ve tried to shoot me. This is crazy, I haven’t done anything, I was just following the preacher...’

‘Hang on, Erik, just hold on... Where are you now? Are you safe?’

‘I don’t know, I’m walking along an empty street, past Telefonplan... I don’t understand any of this.’

‘You followed the preacher to Adam’s home,’ Joona says. ‘His wife is the latest victim, she’s dead.’

‘No...’ Erik gasps.

‘They’re all panicking,’ Joona says darkly. ‘They seem to think you’re guilty of the murder because—’

‘So talk to them!’ Erik interrupts.

‘You were seen near the house right after the murder.’

‘Yes, but if I—’

Erik falls silent as he hears a car approaching. He ducks into a doorway and turns his back to the street.

‘Can’t I just hand myself in?’ he asks once the car has gone.

‘Not without a plan,’ Joona replies.

‘You don’t trust the police?’ Erik asks.

‘They just tried to shoot you,’ Joona says. ‘And if that wasn’t a mistake, then there are people in the force who are out for revenge.’

Erik runs his hands through his wet hair, struggling to understand all the improbable things that have happened over the past few days.

‘What are my options?’ he asks in the end. ‘What do you think I should do?’

‘If you can let me have a bit of time, I’ll try to find out what’s happening with the police operation,’ Joona says. ‘I’ll find out what they’re saying about you internally, and if there’s a safe way for you to come in.’

‘OK.’

‘But you need to lie low,’ Joona says.

‘How do I do that? What do I do?’

‘They’ve already got your car, you can’t go home, you can’t go to any of your friends. Ditch your phone after this conversation, because you know they can track it even when it’s switched off. They’re probably tracing it now, so we don’t have much time.’

‘I understand.’

Sweat is running down Erik’s cheeks as he tries to listen to Joona’s advice.

‘Find a cash machine and take some money out, as much as you can, this is your only chance to do that... But before you withdraw the money you need to work out how to get to another part of town quickly, because they’ll be ready if you make the slightest mistake.’

‘OK.’

‘Buy a used pay-as-you-go phone and call me so I’ve got the number,’ Joona goes on. ‘Don’t contact anyone else, and go and sleep in a shelter that won’t demand any ID.’

‘After this, everyone’s going to believe I’m guilty,’ Erik says.

‘Only until I find the preacher,’ Joona replies.

‘If I can get a chance to hypnotise Rocky, I know I could find out the sort of details that—’

‘That’s no longer possible,’ Joona interrupts. ‘He’s back in custody.’

When Joona gets back to his old room early the next morning, Margot is sitting behind her desk wearing a T-shirt with the text ‘Guys with trucks are not lesbians’. Her thick plait has almost come unravelled, she has dark rings under her eyes and deep lines around her mouth.

‘I’ve been to an emergency meeting of senior officers,’ she tells him, helping herself to a bag of sweets. ‘The regional police chief, Carlos, Annika from the National Police Board. The preliminary investigation is now top priority, we’re getting a lot more resources... A national alert has been issued, and they’re preparing for a press conference tomorrow.’

‘How’s Adam?’ Joona asks.

‘I don’t know, he’s been relieved of duty, doesn’t want to see a counsellor... he’s got his family round him, but...’

‘Terrible,’ Joona says.

Joona hopes Erik has taken his advice to destroy his phone immediately after their conversation.

During the large police and emergency services operation at Sofa Zone in Högdalen they had to charter a bus to take all the people they’d apprehended to the custody unit in Huddinge while they waited for a decision from the prosecutor about arrests. The high number of dead and injured were assumed to be the victims of a bloody power-struggle in the criminal underworld.

One of the men taken into custody for possession of narcotics was Rocky Kyrklund. He had eleven capsules each containing 250 milligrams of 30 per cent heroin hidden in his clothes.

‘We saw the murderer at the Zone. Erik followed him to Katryna,’ Joona says, leaning forward.

‘How do you know that?’

‘Erik didn’t do it,’ Joona says.

‘Joona,’ Margot sighs. ‘You can discuss this with me. I know the two of you are friends, but be careful when you see the others.’