Ларс Кеплер - The Rabbit Hunter

Rex is listening to Wilhelm Stenhammar’s three fantasies for piano as he empties the dishwasher. Earlier that evening he was at TV4, recording a conversation about his friendship with the Foreign Minister.

He has never felt like such a fraud in his life, but after the piece aired he received a torrent of positive responses on social media.

Sammy is at a concert at Debaser, but has promised to be home by two o’clock at the latest. Rex is afraid to go to bed before his son is back. Wearily he fills a pot to boil water for tea and tries to suppress his anxiety. His phone rings. He sees that it’s DJ and answers at once.

‘What did you think of the interview?’ Rex asks. ‘I felt like—’

‘Is Sammy home?’ DJ interrupts.

‘No, he’s—’

‘Can I come up?’

‘Are you nearby?’

‘I’m sitting in the car outside.’

Only now does Rex notice the odd tone in his friend’s voice, and starts to worry that he’s brought bad news.

‘What happened?’

‘Can I come up for a little bit?’

‘Of course,’ Rex says.

He goes downstairs and unlocks the front door, then opens it as soon as he hears the lift stop on the landing outside.

Rex gasps and takes a step back when he sees DJ standing in the bright light.

David Jordan’s arms, chest, face and beard are covered in blood.

‘Christ!’ Rex exclaims. ‘What happened?’

DJ comes in and closes the door behind him. His eyes are glassy and blank.

‘It’s not my blood,’ he says tersely. ‘It was an accident... I’ll tell you, I just need...’

‘You scared the shit out of me.’

‘Sorry, I shouldn’t have come... I think I’m probably in shock.’

DJ leans against the door as he takes his shoes off, leaving a bloody handprint on the wood.

‘What on earth happened?’

‘I don’t know how it ended up... or rather, it’s complicated, but I ended up getting into an argument with a drunk. He came outside after me, then fell and cut himself.’

He looks up at Rex sheepishly.

‘I think he was hurt badly.’

‘How badly?’

DJ closes his eyes and Rex sees that he even has blood on his eyelids and lashes.

‘Sorry to drag you into this,’ DJ whispers. ‘I’m supposed to keep you out of anything like... Shit...’

‘Just tell me what happened.’

DJ doesn’t answer. He walks past Rex into the guest bathroom and starts to wash his hands. The red water fades to pink as hundreds of droplets hit the white tiles behind the tap.

DJ uses a wad of toilet paper to wipe his face. He flushes it, looks at himself in the mirror, sighs heavily and turns to Rex.

‘I panicked. I don’t know, it made sense at the time. I just walked away and got in the car when I heard the ambulance.’

‘That’s not great,’ Rex says quietly.

‘I just didn’t want... I didn’t want it to affect you,’ he tries to explain. ‘It can’t, not when we’re getting new backers, not now that everything’s really moving along.’

‘I know, but...’

‘Lyra’s at home,’ he goes on. ‘I didn’t know where I could go, so I came here.’

‘We’ll figure out what to do,’ Rex says, rubbing his face.

‘I might as well call the police and explain I didn’t do anything. It wasn’t my fault,’ he says, and starts to search for his phone in his pockets.

‘Hang on,’ Rex says. ‘Tell me all about it. Let’s go upstairs.’

‘Why does everything have to be so complicated? I just went to a bar in Axelsberg and...’

‘What on earth were you doing out there?’

DJ slumps into one of the chairs at the kitchen table. The pot boiled dry a while ago, and the kitchen smells like hot metal.

‘Sometimes I just need to go somewhere where I don’t know anyone,’ DJ explains.

‘I can understand that,’ Rex says, putting fresh water in the pot.

‘But there was a silly argument and I walked out,’ DJ says, sliding his elbows across the table. ‘The drunk followed me and wanted to fight, and in the end he fell into a shop window and cut himself.’

DJ sits back again and tries to breathe more slowly. There are streaks of blood on the table from the sleeves of his jacket.

‘And now there’s blood here,’ DJ says. ‘We need to wipe it off before Sammy gets home.’

‘He’ll probably be out half the night.’

‘I think there’s a lot of blood in the car as well,’ DJ whispers.

‘I’ll go down and take a look while you take a shower,’ Rex says.

‘No, what if someone sees you? You need to stay out of this. I’ll take care of the car tomorrow when Lyra’s at art college.’

Rex sits down across from DJ.

‘I still don’t get it,’ he says. ‘You were fighting? A proper fight?’

DJ’s eyes are shiny and bloodshot.

‘Look, he was drunk, staggering around. He kept telling me to go back in... and I was trying to fend him off when he stumbled into the window.’

‘How bad was it?’

‘He cut his neck. I’m not sure he’s going to make it. There was...’

‘But if the ambulance got there quickly?’

‘There was an awful lot of blood,’ DJ concludes.

‘So what are we going to do?’ Rex asks. ‘Do we just hope no one saw you?’

‘No one in the bar knew me, and the square was pretty dark.’

Rex nods and tries to think clearly.

‘You need to take a shower,’ he says. ‘I’ll get you some clothes... put everything in the washing machine and get yourself cleaned up, and I’ll see if there’s anything about it online yet.’

‘OK, thanks,’ DJ whispers.

Rex gets the bleach out and sprays the table and chair where DJ was sitting. He uses paper towels to wipe it off, then goes downstairs and cleans the bloodstained doorpost, the door-handle of the guest bathroom, the tap, the sink and the tiles behind it. He goes back upstairs, wiping the banister as he goes, then leaves the bleach and paper towels in the middle of the table so he doesn’t forget to clean the shower and washing machine once DJ has finished.

He takes out a bottle of Highland Park and a tumbler for DJ, then checks the news on his phone. There’s nothing about any fight or accident matching what DJ said.

Maybe it’s not as bad as he thought.

If the man had died, the news would be out there by now.

The prison warden has granted Joona’s application for a thirty-six-hour leave.

Joona reaches the end of the underground tunnel. The prison guard in front of him hesitates for a few seconds, then raises his hand and opens the door. They walk through, wait until the lock clicks, then walk to another door and wait for central command to authorise their progress into the next section.

Just as Joona had predicted, Salim Ratjen concluded that Joona was his only chance to get a message out before Wednesday. Ratjen’s message seems to consist of little more than a telephone number and a name, but it could still be coded authorisation for a murder.

After retrieving his belongings, Joona is led to Central Command by another guard.

His suit fitted him perfectly at his trial two years ago, but since then Joona has spent four hours a day exercising and now it’s too tight across the shoulders.

The lock whirrs and he opens the door and leaves the huge wall behind him.

A familiar pain behind his left eye flares up as he starts to walk across the asphalt. The electric fence with its coil of barbed wire is the last obstacle before freedom. Tall floodlights rise up ahead of him, their white pylons standing out against the steely grey sky.

He resists the temptation to walk faster, and finds himself thinking back to when he was a child, following his dad through the forest to fish for char.