Юхан Теорин - The Voices Beyond

Aron clears his throat, looks into the prisoner’s bloodshot eyes. Comrade Trushkin knows where he is: at the start of the hard road leading to a full confession. He knows that the chair on which he is sitting will get wet, that the floor beneath him will soon be covered in stains.

‘Anything else?’ Vlad asks over his shoulder.

‘Indeed. He was planning a coup from within the organization when they picked him up down in Sochi. He was the spider at the centre of a web of foreign spies... I’m sure we will get plenty of new names tonight.’

Aron nods stiffly. His colleague adds, ‘You two know one another, don’t you?’

‘What?’ Aron says.

‘You and Trushkin. You used to go drinking together in your free time, didn’t you? You’re friends, aren’t you?’

Vlad shakes his head. ‘That is incorrect.’

The room falls silent. He is expecting Trushkin to say something, to open his mouth and protest, but it doesn’t happen. Trushkin merely stares blankly at him.

‘That is incorrect,’ Vlad says again. ‘We are not friends.’

Aron wonders if anyone has the cellar under surveillance. An ear pressed to the door? An eye peeping in through a gap? One of his commanding officers could walk in at any moment, wondering what they’re doing, why nothing is happening — so he walks resolutely up to the prisoner, removes his coat and pulls up his vest. Trushkin’s back is still milky white, free of cuts and bruises.

‘Let us begin,’ Vlad says.

He suppresses Aron’s whining objections. They both know that Trushkin was wrong: they are not parts of a combine harvester down here in the cellar. They are parts of a windmill. They work at the millstones, and Stalin is the master miller. But the mill is driven by the wind, and right now the wind is blowing so hard across the new country that no one can stop it. Not even Stalin.

The quota of enemies must be met, new names are needed, and Vlad can see that Trushkin understands this. They must both do their duty now.

Trushkin is looking down at the cement floor. Only his back is visible.

Aron crawls away, but Vlad steps forward.

He picks up the dubinka and begins the interrogation.

Uncle Kent’s wooden decking looked brand new, in Jonas’s opinion. He was very pleased with himself. It was time to move on to Aunt Veronica’s decking; the only thing left to sort out between him and Kent was his wages.

The money.

He had put it off as long as possible, and now it was late evening. Eventually, he went over to the house. There was a faint light showing in the windows of the living room, so he slid open the glass door.

It was hot and stuffy inside; the fans were turned off. Jonas could see bills and sports gear all over the floor and the bag of golf clubs had fallen over just by the door. He listened but couldn’t hear a thing. He was reaching out to switch on the main light when a voice said, ‘Don’t put the light on.’

Jonas stopped and peered into the room. The TV wasn’t on, but someone was sitting in the armchair in front of it.

The cairn ghost, he thought. The cairn ghost has come into the house.

‘Evening, JK — how’s it going?’

Jonas recognized Kent’s voice and took a couple of steps across the stone floor.

‘Fine...’ he said. ‘I’m due to be paid today. For the decking.’

Kent nodded slowly. ‘Absolutely. Come over here.’

Jonas slowly moved closer and saw Uncle Kent get up, swaying slightly. There was an empty bottle on the table.

Kent smiled and took out his wallet. ‘There you go, JK.’

Jonas went over and took the money. ‘Thanks.’

‘You’re welcome,’ Kent said, patting his forehead. His fingers were ice-cold. ‘Are you happy here, JK?’

Jonas nodded.

‘Good,’ Kent said. ‘That’s good. I like people to be happy at Villa Kloss.’ He looked around. ‘I’ve always been happy here. We used to have some wild parties back in the day, me and Niklas and our friends... We used to bring girls down from Stockholm and crack open the bubbly. I had a water bed in those days, as big as the swimming pool. We’d party around the clock sometimes. Have a little nap in the sun in the morning, then start all over again down on the shore at lunchtime.’

He looked at Jonas and wrapped his hand around the back of the boy’s neck. ‘But there is one thing I can tell you, JK, and it’s important. Are you listening?’

Jonas felt as if his whole body had gone rigid, but he managed another nod.

‘One thing I’ve learned,’ Kent said, ‘is that there’s always clearing up to do after a party. The longer you party, the more clearing up you have to do. Can you remember that?’

Jonas held his breath, then said, ‘OK.’

‘Well done, JK.’ Kent removed his hand. ‘I realize you might have been wondering about what happened near Marnäs the other night... me, too. But I only wanted to talk to Mayer, ask him what he was up to. Last season, he stole money from us so, obviously, we had no choice but to sack him. And then this year he boarded our ship in the Ölandic dock, locked the crew in the hold and cast off. So I wanted to speak to him, but he ran away from me, straight through the forest and out on to the road. And then a car came along and...’

Kent looked out at the alarm system in the garden and sighed. ‘Everything’s going to be fine. Things have been a bit messy over the past few weeks, what with all the problems we’ve had in the complex, but it’s all right now... He’s not going to get to us. We’ll retaliate.’

Jonas didn’t say anything. He was thinking about the gun Kent had taken. He edged slowly backwards, away from the hand.

Uncle Kent turned away and sat down again. Jonas kept moving towards the door, past the bills and the golf clubs.

Kent looked around. ‘Where are you going, JK?’

‘Just outside.’

‘Don’t leave the garden,’ Kent said. ‘We have to stay here now; the alarm system will protect us. It’s safest here, inside Villa Kloss.’

Jonas slid open the glass door and quickly stepped out on to the decking, almost bumping into Aunt Veronica, who was on her way into the house.

‘Hi, Jonas — still up and about?’

He smiled at her.

‘You’re starting work over at my place tomorrow, aren’t you? That’s great — I need lots of help!’

Jonas nodded. He was looking forward to it, too.

Veronica glanced into the room, spotted Kent and lowered her voice. ‘How’s he doing?’

‘OK... I think,’ Jonas said.

‘He’s had a lot to deal with.’

‘Yes.’

‘I’ll just pop in and see him... Sleep well, Jonas.’

She went inside and closed the glass door.

Jonas walked across the decking, past the small, faint lights. He looked back through the big window into Kent’s living room. Veronica had gone over to the armchair and was shaking Kent, saying something Jonas couldn’t hear.

Kent muttered a response, but Veronica kept on talking, a serious expression on her face.

Slowly, Kent sat up. He listened to his sister and nodded, without saying anything else.

Jonas stopped spying on them and went back to his own chalet. He was exhausted.

It was Thursday night in the May Lai Bar, the midnight hour, and Lady Summertime had only an hour of her shift left. Thank goodness. The purple wig was making her head more and more itchy.

This was Summertime’s penultimate gig at the club, and it hadn’t gone well. The place wasn’t even half full and the atmosphere was non-existent. The dance floor was deserted and, on top of all that, Lisa felt as if she were being watched up in her booth.

Which she was, of course. The security guards were around all the time, and she suspected that Kent Kloss had told them to keep an eye on her.