Stalker

‘That charming superintendent has left the building,’ Nelly says, peering round the door.

‘She’s only trying to do her job.’

‘I know, she doesn’t really seem too bad …’

‘Stop it,’ he says, but can’t help smiling.

‘No, but she was pretty funny,’ Nelly says and laughs.

Erik rests his head on his hand and she turns serious and walks in, closes the door behind her and looks at him.

‘What is it?’ she asks. ‘What’s happened?’

‘Nothing,’ he replies.

‘Tell me,’ she insists, sitting down on the corner of his desk.

Her red woollen dress crackles with static electricity against her nylon tights as she crosses her legs.

‘I don’t know,’ Erik sighs.

‘What’s up with you?’ she laughs.

Erik stands up, takes a deep breath and looks at her.

‘Nelly,’ he says, and she can hear how empty his voice sounds. ‘I need to ask you about a patient … Before you started working here, Nina Blom put together a team for a complicated research project.’

‘Go on,’ she says, looking at him with obvious curiosity.

‘I know I outlined my cases to you, but this may not have been included, I mean …’

‘What’s the patient’s name?’ she asks calmly.

‘Rocky Kyrklund – do you remember him?’

‘Yes, hang on,’ she says tentatively.

‘He was a priest.’

‘Exactly, I remember, you talked about him quite a lot,’ she says as she thinks. ‘You had a file of pictures from the crime scene, and—’

‘You don’t remember where he ended up?’ he interrupts.

‘That was years ago,’ she replies.

‘He’s still inside, though, isn’t he?’

‘We’d better hope so,’ she replied. ‘He’d killed people, after all, hadn’t he?’

‘A woman.’ Erik nods.

‘That’s right, now I remember. Her whole face was destroyed.’

17 (#ulink_3bd2c889-0179-58a8-81c4-28319a0c1d9c)

Nelly stands behind Erik as he makes his way through the patient database on his computer. He types Rocky Kyrklund’s name, searches, and discovers that he was sent to Karsudden District Hospital.

‘Karsudden,’ he says quietly.

She brushes a strand of blonde hair from her cheek and looks at him, her eyes narrowing.

‘Do you want to tell me why we’re talking about this patient?’

‘Rocky Kyrklund’s victim had been posed. You won’t remember, but she was lying on the floor with her face horribly disfigured, and her hand round her neck … I’ve just hypnotised Björn Kern, and … and he described details that were very reminiscent of the old murder.’

‘The one committed by the priest?’

‘I don’t know, but Björn Kern said his wife’s face had been completely destroyed … and that she was sitting with her hand over her ear.’

‘What do the police say?’

‘I don’t know,’ Erik mutters.

‘I mean, you did tell that … lovely pregnant lady?’

‘I didn’t tell her anything.’ Erik says.

‘You didn’t?’ she asks, a sceptical smile playing at the corners of her mouth.

‘Because it emerged while he was under hypnosis, and—’

‘But he wanted to talk, didn’t he?’

‘I might have misheard,’ Erik says.

‘Misheard?’ she laughs.

‘It’s just so sick – I can’t think clearly any more.’

‘Erik, it probably isn’t important, but you have to tell the police, that’s why they’re here,’ Nelly says gently.

He walks over to the window. The area where the patients stand and smoke is empty now. But he can still see the cigarette butts and sweet wrappers that have been tossed on the ground, and a blue shoe-cover that’s been pushed into the ashtray.

‘It’s a long time ago, but to me … Do you know what those weeks were like? I didn’t want Rocky to be released,’ Erik says slowly. ‘It was everything … the brutality, the eyes, the hands …’

‘I know I read all about it,’ Nelly says. ‘I don’t remember the details of your recommendation, but I know you said he was seriously bloody dangerous and that there was a severe risk of a relapse.’

‘What if he’s out? I’ve got to call Karsudden,’ Erik says, then picks up his phone, checks his computer, and dials the number for Simon Casillas, the senior consultant in charge.