Ларс Кеплер - The Rabbit Hunter

Saga gets out her phone and tries Joona again, and this time the call goes through.

‘Joona.’

‘At last,’ she says in Swedish.

‘Have you been trying to call?’ he asks.

‘I’ve left messages.’

‘My phone got wet,’ Joona explains.

Saga looks at the whiteboard containing the erased remnants of red, green and blue writing as she explains that she, as a Security Police agent, absolutely can’t tell him that Grace was subjected to a brutal gang rape in the Rabbit Hole.

‘She remembers the names of the perpetrators... William, Teddy Johnson, Kent, Lawrence and Rex Müller.’

‘Rex Müller?’ Joona says. ‘She named him?’

‘Yes,’ Saga replies, and smiles at López, who stares back at her blankly.

‘Which means that Rex has been identified both as a rapist and the man who’s avenging the rape.’

‘What? What are you talking about?’ Saga asks.

‘I’ve arrested Oscar von Creutz... I want to question him again, but he told me what happened and it’s pretty clear that Rex wasn’t part of it,’ Joona says. ‘They locked him in the stable while they raped his girlfriend. Oscar’s convinced that Rex is the person who’s started taking revenge on them.’

‘So Rex didn’t participate in the rape?’ Saga says.

‘No.’

López digs around in her bag and takes out dark lipstick.

‘And you don’t think he’s the murderer?’ Saga says.

‘He’s got enough money to pay someone to do it for him, but...’

‘None of this feels right,’ Saga concludes.

‘The murders have to be about what happened in the Rabbit Hole,’ Joona says. ‘We’ve got a spree killer who’s murdering the rapists one by one.’

‘But why?’

‘He must have been there.’

‘A witness?’

‘Something else,’ he says. ‘Something else must have happened, something we don’t know about, some unknown factor, a third element.’

‘Who could it be?’ she asks.

‘We’ve got a victim and the perpetrators... but something’s missing.’

‘What?’

‘That’s what we need to find out.’

‘I’ll talk to Grace, and you talk to Rex and Oscar,’ Saga says.

‘There’s no time to lose.’

Saga ends the call, puts her phone in her pocket and turns back towards López with a smile.

‘My boss says he’ll contact you tomorrow,’ she explains.

‘I understand Swedish,’ López says coolly in English.

‘Then you already know that,’ Saga replies, and gets up from her chair.

The corner of López’s mouth twitches at her own bluff, then she nods.

‘Your boss is going to say that you should tell us everything you know.’

‘I hope so,’ Saga says.

‘I’ll pick you up from your hotel after breakfast.’

‘Thanks,’ Saga says, and walks out of the conference room.

On the ground floor she hands her visitor’s badge back in at reception, then gets into her yellow car and starts to drive back to the exclusive rehab centre.

The traffic in the suburbs has died down and the rainy Chicago sky looks like dark-grey clay by the time Saga parks the car on Timberline Drive.

Five hundred metres away she can see the lights in the security lodge and the closed gates glinting in the floodlights’ sharp glare.

Visiting hours are long over, and the patients are probably all in bed.

She walks quickly along the road, but before she reaches the lights she jumps over the ditch and heads through the trees.

The only sounds are the rain dripping through the leaves, and her own footsteps on the grass and dead leaves.

She heads away from the security lodge, towards the fence, and holds the branches back as she tries to see through the trees.

There isn’t time to wait until morning, she needs to get in and talk to Grace immediately. Because regardless of whether the killer has been hired or is acting on his own behalf, he clearly intends to kill everyone on the list as efficiently as possible. Both his motives and modus operandi are emotionally charged, and all the evidence suggests that he has a warped and chaotic personality.

She wades through a grove of wet ferns, hears a shuffling sound behind her back, and looks up into the dark treetops to see a large bird moving through the upper branches.

Saga hurries on into the dense darkness before she sees light up ahead.

There’s no time to lose because this perpetrator has all the hallmarks of a spree killer.

Each murder is merely a step along the way, a small part of a final solution.

Saga emerges into an area where the trees have been cleared, and stops in front of the tall, black steel fence.

Every few metres signs warn that trespassing is forbidden, and list the name of the security company patrolling the area.

Saga runs over and grabs one of the thinner poles that make up the fence, puts her foot on a yellow sign that says ‘Security cameras in operation’, and heaves herself up, then jumps down on the other side.

A network of illuminated paths criss-crosses the park.

Saga runs between the trees and follows one of them beyond the reach of the lights.

If Grace hasn’t taken her medication, it might be possible to talk to her about what happened in the Rabbit Hole.

Saga approaches the buildings and slows down.

The lampposts cast a desolate glow over damp paths and wet park benches. The buildings are dark, their windows blind reflections.

Leaves drip and rustle behind her.

Someone is approaching. Saga steps back and sinks down behind the bushes.

It’s a man from the security firm, checking that the doors of one of the buildings are locked. Saga hears him report back over his radio before he moves on, out of sight.

The park is silent, and everything is glowing gently in the muted light from the lampposts. Saga approaches one of the buildings, and stops to listen.

Just as she starts walking again a light goes on in one of the windows, falling across the freshly mown grass.

Saga moves cautiously into the cover of a large tree. There’s a snap as she stands on a dry branch.

A naked woman appears in the window.

She can’t be more than twenty years old.

Saga watches her pale face as she stares out into the night before turning and tottering away from the window.

Saga waits a little while, then hurries across the grass to the path that leads to Grace’s building.

Only now does she notice that her jeans are soaked through to her knees.

She’s close to the art studio now, and hears her own footsteps echo softly off its stone façade.

Saga is planning to tell Grace that Rex didn’t participate in the rape, that he was locked up all night.

Maybe that will prompt Grace to tell her exactly what happened.

Maybe Grace will be able to identify the unknown factor that they need.

Saga has just started to walk cautiously towards the corner of the building when she hears giggling behind her.

She turns around.

A woman in a thin nightie is standing behind her with a blonde wig in her hand.

‘My little doll!’ she says, sounding astonished.

The woman’s face is oddly unguarded, almost boundless in its expressiveness. Saga moves slowly away but the woman follows her.

‘I had to do it, Megan,’ she says, making a sad face. ‘Grandpa said I couldn’t have you.’

‘You think—’

‘I swear,’ she interrupts sternly. ‘Ask him yourself. He’s standing over there, under that tree.’

The woman points nervously towards the shadows of the park.

‘OK,’ Saga says, and turns to look.

‘He just hid!’ she gasps.

‘I have to go,’ Saga says softly.

‘Come on,’ the woman hisses, and starts walking towards the park. ‘We’ll run away together... heedless of all danger, rushing through the forest...’