Юхан Теорин - The Asylum

‘Do you hate him?’

She gives him a sharp look, as if the answer is obvious. ‘John Daniel died; his life lasted just nineteen years. But Rössel has never been punished. He is looked after, he gets free food and accommodation. Life is good over there in St Patricia’s.’

Jan thinks of those long, empty corridors. ‘Are you sure about that?’

Lilian nods firmly. ‘Oh yes, especially for a celebrity like Rössel. He’s cared for, and he has peace and quiet. Medication, therapy, every kind of support you can think of. The doctors want to bathe in the reflected glow of his fame. But John Daniel, he...’ She looks down at the table. ‘He was murdered and his body lies hidden somewhere. And my life has been shortened as a result... That’s what grief and hatred do to you. You dry up.’

Jan almost asks, Is that why you drink so much? But he doesn’t. He has an idea of what Lilian has been through and how she feels about Rössel — he has felt something similar when it comes to Torgny Fridman and the Gang of Four.

‘So you’re working at the pre-school because of John Daniel?’

‘Yes. I thought I’d be able to make contact with Rössel myself, but I couldn’t do it. In the end I asked Hanna if she would help me, and she was more successful.’

‘But aren’t you worried about her?’

‘Because she goes up to the hospital? She doesn’t actually meet Rössel, they just exchange letters. There’s no risk involved.’

Jan doesn’t say anything, and eventually Lilian goes on: ‘Hanna is the only one who knows who I am... that I’m related to John Daniel. I never spoke to the press after it happened; my parents did all that. They posed for the media, holding up school photos and weeping straight into the camera. They begged anyone who knew anything to contact the police. But no one ever did. And now we’ve been forgotten.’

Jan thinks about everything Hanna has told him, and asks, ‘So what does Rössel want? Is he hoping to escape?’

Lilian presses her lips tightly together. She has more energy now. ‘Rössel will never be free. He might think so, but it’s not going to happen. He’s just going to talk to us.’

‘When?’

‘Next Friday evening, when there’s a fire drill at St Patricia’s. They’re going to practise a full evacuation, so all the patients will have to leave their rooms. The corridors will be pretty crowded.’

Jan remembers the elderly patients down in the basement chapel. Their vacant expressions.

‘And what will happen to Rössel?’ he asks.

‘Hanna’s contact... Carl... he’s going to let Rössel into the visitors’ room.’

‘Where you’ll be waiting?’

‘We’re meeting him in there, and he’s going to tell us where John Daniel is buried.’

‘Do you really believe that?’

‘I know it,’ says Lilian. ‘He’s promised Hanna.’

Jan wants to say something, but he hesitates. ‘Things can go wrong,’ he says quietly at last.

‘Yes, but we won’t be taking any risks with Rössel,’ Lilian says. ‘There will be four of us, me and my brother and two friends. We’ve gone over every single thing. I’ve let my brother into the Dell a couple of times just to suss things out.’

‘At night?’

Lilian nods.

‘The children have seen him,’ Jan says.

‘Oh?’

‘Mira saw a man standing by her bed one night... You’re not being as careful as you think.’

‘We’re careful enough.’ Lilian looks at him. ‘So now you know. Are you with us?’

‘Me? What do you mean?’

‘We might need some help. Someone to keep watch.’

‘Maybe,’ he says eventually. ‘I’ll have to give it some thought.’

On the way home he thinks back to what Lilian said about the fire drill. The patients will have to leave their rooms. The corridors will be pretty crowded . And of course Rami will be let out of her room, just like all the others.

Jan has booked a slot in the laundry room in his apartment block the following morning. He puts a white wash in one machine and a dark wash in the other, and switches them on.

On his way back upstairs he stops by the sign that says LEGÉN. He shouldn’t go bothering his neighbour any more, but Jan has realized that he actually likes the man. Legén is just himself.

He rings the doorbell and after a minute or so Legén appears.

Jan waves. ‘Morning, it’s only me. How are things?’

‘Fine.’

Legén simply stands there; he doesn’t invite Jan in, but nor does he close the door.

‘Would you like a cup of coffee?’ Jan asks. He feels as if it is time he returned his neighbour’s hospitality.

But Legén just scratches the back of his neck as he considers the invitation. ‘Is it a dark roast?’

‘Er... I think so,’ Jan says.

‘OK.’

Legén picks up a plastic bag from the floor and walks straight out of the door, as if he has been waiting to be asked for a long time. Jan leads the way up the stairs and into his apartment.

‘Bit crowded in here,’ says Legén, looking with curiosity at all the furniture.

Jan sighs. ‘It’s not mine.’

He goes into the kitchen, and a few minutes later the coffee machine is bubbling away. Legén is sitting at the table, and Jan has even managed to produce some biscuits.

‘How’s the wine coming along?’ he asks.

‘Good... It’s going to be pretty strong stuff.’ Legén sounds pleased with himself.

Jan takes a sip of his coffee and wonders how old Legén actually is. Seventy, perhaps. After all, he retired from St Patricia’s four or five years ago, so that should be about right.

They drink their coffee in silence, then Jan looks at the clock. It is five past ten — he’s forgotten all about his washing. ‘You stay there,’ he says to Legén.

When he opens the door of his apartment, he sees an elderly lady on the landing. A neighbour. She is small and thin, and she is carrying an overflowing laundry basket. She has obviously booked the slot after Jan, and she doesn’t look pleased.

‘I’m really sorry... I wasn’t keeping an eye on the time.’

The woman merely nods. Jan hasn’t even managed to close his front door, but suddenly she says, ‘So you’re friends, you and him?’

‘Him?’

‘Verner Legén.’

‘Friends?’ Jan says quietly so that Legén won’t hear. ‘I don’t know about that, but we’ve had the odd chat.’

‘And you’ve been inside his apartment?’

‘Yes... I borrowed some sugar from him.’

He smiles, but his neighbour doesn’t smile back. She just stares at him. ‘Did he have any weapons in there?’

‘Weapons?’

‘Knives, guns...’ she says. ‘I mean, that’s the sort of thing you worry about, as a neighbour.’

Jan doesn’t understand, but shakes his head.

‘No, I suppose he’s quietened down these days,’ the woman says to herself. ‘He’s getting on a bit, after all.’

There is an awkward silence. The woman sets off down the stairs to the laundry room, but Jan doesn’t move.

In the end he has to ask the question: ‘Has Legén had weapons in the past?’

She stops. ‘Not here, well not as far as I know, anyway.’

‘But somewhere else?’

The woman looks at him closely. ‘Haven’t you heard what he did in Gothenburg?’

‘No?’

‘He murdered a whole load of people. Went crazy. Ran around and stabbed them out in the street, one after another.’

Jan listens; it’s all he can do. He is incapable of moving.

‘Legén? He killed people?’ he finally brings himself to ask.

The woman nods. ‘Everybody in the building knows about him.’ She sighs and adds, ‘Nobody wants him living here. They should have kept him in St Psycho’s... That’s where they locked him up.’