Юхан Теорин - The Asylum

A room in darkness.

He peeps in, expecting to see a big black shadow looming over the beds, but he sees nothing.

Nothing is moving in there. The three children are safely tucked up, their breathing quiet and even. Jan tiptoes in and listens, but the room is small; there is nowhere for anyone to hide.

It’s empty. So where has the visitor from the hospital gone?

Jan leaves the children, closes the door and switches on the light in the hallway. Then he goes from room to room, checking every corner, but he can’t find any sign of the visitor.

Eventually he returns to the hallway. The outside door is closed, but when he presses down the handle he discovers it isn’t locked. Someone has unlocked it and gone outside.

Jan opens the door and looks out, but there is no one in sight. ‘Hello?’ he calls out into the night, mostly to hear the sound of his own voice.

No answer. The playground is empty, the street beyond is deserted.

He closes the door against the cold, locks it and exhales. He looks at the clock: quarter past twelve.

There is one last thing he must do before he goes to bed: he must go down to the basement and hang the picture back on the wall. And of course he must replace the bottle — an empty wine bottle would be a little difficult to explain if Marie-Louise found it in the pre-school.

When he comes back up, he also jams a chair under the handle of the door leading to the basement so that no one will be able to open it from the other side — not even if they have a key card.

At eight o’clock the following morning, Jan goes home. The rest of the night was uneventful, when he finally managed to get to sleep. His heart was pounding as he lay in bed, but he felt lonely rather than afraid.

Our operation is secure , Dr Högsmed had said. The safety of all concerned is our number-one priority .

Jan has not found a way to get to Rami, not yet. But one thing he does know now: someone is using the pre-school as a sally port. As a way out of the hospital.

He hopes it isn’t a patient.

The second envelope from Rettig is delivered to Jan that morning when he is back in his own bed. His mind has drifted off into a warm, soothing dream about love, but he is abruptly woken at nine o’clock. He can’t work out why at first, but then it dawns on him that it was the clatter of the letter box.

He no longer remembers the dream; he might as well get up. When he peers out into the hallway there is an envelope lying there which looks familiar. This one is pale yellow, that’s the only difference. But it is just as thick as the first one, with the letters S. P. printed on the front.

This time Jan does something he didn’t have the courage to do last time: he opens the envelope. He takes it into the kitchen, places it on the table and studies the seal. It’s ordinary transparent sticky tape — the kind you can buy just about anywhere — and that’s what makes him begin to pull at it, teasing it away from the back of the envelope.

He hesitates for a brief moment. Is it wrong to open letters that shouldn’t ever be delivered anyway? He pushes the question aside.

When he has removed the tape it is very easy to slide a sharp knife under the flap and gently work it open. He reaches inside and removes the contents.

Rettig wasn’t lying. The envelope contains letters, nothing else. Jan counts thirty-four, in all colours and sizes. There are names on the front in pen or pencil, in different handwriting, all with the same address: St Patricia’s Hospital .

Jan slowly looks through the names, and notices that one particular name comes up several times: Ivan Rössel. Rössel the serial killer has received nine letters altogether.

There are no other names on the letters that Jan recognizes. There is nothing for Alice Rami, or Maria Blanker.

Jan rubs his eyes and thinks. If he can’t get in to see Rami, perhaps he can send a letter to her? What does he have to lose?

He has a set of stationery in one of the kitchen drawers. His mother gave it to him when he left home, with handmade envelopes and thick paper, but in ten years he has hardly ever used it.

He picks up a pen and stares at the empty sheet of paper for a few seconds, wanting to fill it with words. There is so much to say. But in the end he writes just one question: DEAR SQUIRREL — WOULD YOU LIKE TO GET OVER THE FENCE?

He signs his own first name. He considers adding his address, then realizes that Lars Rettig or one of the other care assistants will almost certainly see the envelope containing Rami’s reply. If she replies. So he writes Jan Larsson , and his old address in Gothenburg.

Then he places the sheet of paper in an envelope, writes Maria Blanker, St Patricia’s Hospital on the front, seals it and tucks it in among all the rest.

Jan has the package for the patients at St Patricia’s in his rucksack when he arrives at the Dell the following day. He will be staying on for the evening shift; he will be alone with the children for three hours, which will give him plenty of time to nip over to St Psycho’s when they have fallen asleep.

Everything seems quiet at the Dell, but when he walks into the staffroom he sees Marie-Louise sitting at the table with a strange man. He stops dead in the doorway, feeling a chill run down his spine. He suddenly remembers the events of Friday night: the unidentified visitor who emerged from the lift and walked out into the night through the pre-school.

But when he looks at the man properly he recognizes the glasses and the thick brown hair. And the mouth which rarely smiles.

‘Hello, Jan. How are you?’

Dr Högsmed has come to visit. Jan almost expects to see a collection of hats in front of him on the table, just waiting to be picked up — but there is only a half-empty coffee cup.

He quickly forces a smile and goes over to shake hands. ‘Fine thanks, Doctor.’

‘ Patrik , Jan.’

Jan nods. Of course he will never be able to think of Högsmed as anything other than Doctor , but he can pretend.

Högsmed studies his face. ‘So, have you got the hang of all the routines?’

‘Absolutely,’ Jan replies. ‘I love it here.’

‘That sounds excellent.’

Jan’s smile is becoming more rigid by the moment. He thinks about the letters in his rucksack. It isn’t open, of course, but does Högsmed suspect anything? Has Lars Rettig been found out?

Eventually the doctor looks away and turns to Marie-Louise. ‘Is he behaving himself?’

Högsmed sounds unconcerned, and Marie-Louise answers emphatically, ‘Oh yes, we’re very pleased with Jan! He’s become a real favourite with the children, a real playmate.’

Jan hears the praise, but he still can’t relax. He would prefer to slip away, out of the room and away from Dr Högsmed. When Marie-Louise asks if he’d like a coffee, he quickly shakes his head. ‘Thanks, but I had one just before I came out. I get a bit shaky if I have too much,’ he says, then adds, ‘Caffeine, I mean.’

Then he goes off to join the children in the playroom. Behind him Högsmed leans over and quietly says something to Marie-Louise, but the children are shouting and laughing, making it impossible for Jan to eavesdrop.

‘Come on, Jan!’

‘Come on, we’re going to build something!’

Natalie and Matilda draw him into the game, but he finds it difficult to chat and joke as usual today. He keeps looking over at the door, waiting to feel a hand on his shoulder, a harsh voice asking him to come for a little chat. An interview with the security team up at the hospital.

But it doesn’t happen. When he glances into the staffroom a little while later, the table is empty. Högsmed has gone.