Stalker (16 page)

Joona is driving fast as he ignores the red light and turns left into Odengatan.

A homeless woman with two overloaded shopping trolleys is sitting asleep outside the 7-Eleven.

Adam tells him how Filip has been overdosing on several different varieties of MDPV for a while now, and that Eugene thinks he’s entered a paranoid psychosis.

The drug has caused a number of deaths in Sweden, and was referred to in the evening tabloids as ‘the cannibal drug’ after a man who’d taken it tried to eat the face of a homeless man.

‘We haven’t got much time, they won’t be able to hold Eugene for long, he’ll be out soon and I reckon he’s likely to warn Filip,’ Adam says in a tense voice.

Joona overtakes a taxi on the inside, pulls in front of it, then swerves into the oncoming lanes and turns into Vanadisvägen.

The bumper thuds as he drives up on to the pavement and stops in front of the pale mocha-coloured building with red garage doors.

Within central Stockholm the self-storage companies have had to make do with using existing basements so as not to change the visible appearance of the city. Huge areas of small, locked rooms spread out just below the ground, like old catacombs beneath cathedrals.

Joona and Adam get out of the car and head over to the closed office looking out onto the little car park. In the gloom through the window they can make out flat stacks of removal boxes, a reception desk, and a large monitor for security cameras on the wall.

‘I want to look at a map of the storerooms, and I want to look at those cameras,’ Joona says.

‘It’s closed, we’re going to have to go through a prosecutor,’ Adam replies.

Joona nods, taps his stick against the edge of the pavement and thinks how it feels to sink through broken ice. It’s when you warm up that you start to freeze, he thinks as he picks up a heavy kerb-stone and throws it through the window. There’s a loud crash as the glass shatters and a red light begins to flash over on the reception desk.

‘The alarm will have gone off at their security company,’ Adam says feebly.

Joona pushes some loose splinters from the window frame with his stick, then goes in. Adam looks round, then follows him.

There’s a plan hanging on the wall, showing a grid system of wide and narrow passageways.

Every storeroom is numbered, and they’re arranged in blocks. A list of staff codes for the stores is neatly pinned up alongside.

Joona sits down at the computer. The passageways between the storerooms are monitored by security cameras. Twenty-five small squares cover the screen. All the cameras are filming windowless darkness. It’s night, and the lights have all been switched off.

‘See if you can find a list of customers,’ Adam says.

Joona minimises the security cameras, tries to open various programs but can’t get anywhere. Everything apart from the cameras requires a password.

He quickly returns to the cameras and enlarges the first square and stares at the grey-black stillness, like a black square of linen. Then the next one. The camera is filming nothing but darkness. Adam shuffles nervously behind him. He looks at the plan on the wall.

Everything is quiet, sunk in darkness.

The third camera is pointed towards an emergency exit. A green sign above the door casts an algae-like glow across the flecked cement floor and corrugated metal walls.

There’s some rubbish outside one of the storerooms, and the underwater lighting from the emergency exit illuminates an abandoned barrow.

Joona glances at the plan on the wall and locates the emergency exit, and works out where the camera is mounted. Everything is still quiet. A numbing feeling of exhaustion washes over him like a wave, forcing him to close his eyes for a couple of seconds.

The darkness on the computer screen is monotonous. Some of the cameras register light from coded locks, but nothing else.

‘Dark,’ Adam says.

‘Yes,’ Joona says, enlarging the fourteenth square.

He’s just about to close it when there’s a flicker in the bottom corner.

‘Hang on,’ he says.

Adam leans forward and looks at the dark image. There’s nothing in sight, everything is still, but then the little light in the corner flashes again.

‘What was that?’ Adam whispers, leaning closer to the screen.

The little light flashes again. It’s faint, and only manages to light up a small area of floor, revealing the pattern of the cement.

Joona clicks to enlarge the next camera image, then the next, and waits a while, but they show nothing but blackness. He looks at the overview, with all twenty-five cameras at the same time. Number fourteen flickers again, but the others remain lifeless.

‘The source of the light ought to be here, or here,’ Joona says, pointing at the plan. ‘But it’s not covered by one single camera, which makes no sense.’

‘Where are we?’ Adam asks, looking at the plan on the wall.

‘Camera fourteen must be at the far end of corridor C,’ Joona says.

He enlarges the images one by one. All black, still, but suddenly he stops.

‘Did you see something?’ Adam asks.

They both stare at the static black image.

‘That’s what I mean,’ Joona replies. ‘Where’s the green light? This is the camera pointing at the emergency exit.’

‘Try that one,’ Adam says, pointing. ‘That ought to pick up the light from the lock leading to the next section.’

Joona quickly enlarges the image. Also completely black. The door and lock can’t be seen at all.

That can only be because there’s something wrong with the camera. There seem to be an awful lot of faulty cameras down there.

‘There’s a huge area missing, loads of cameras,’ he says, looking at Adam.

‘Where?’

‘The whole of this upper area, along corridors C, D and E … that’s maybe fifty storerooms,’ Joona says, looking back at the image from camera fourteen again.

The faint light flickers across the uneven floor, and remains on for a moment. He can just make out the bottom of the metal doors before the light goes off, then comes on again.

‘That light’s an emergency signal,’ Joona says, getting up from the chair.

Security camera number fourteen is registering fragments of an emergency signal. Further along the corridor, where the cameras aren’t working, someone is flashing a light. It’s the international emergency signal using Morse code. SOS: three quick flashes followed by three longer ones, then three short ones again.

The automatic garage door whirrs shut behind them. The pain in his hip from walking down the slope makes Joona break out in a sweat. His heavy pistol is swinging against his ribs, and the sound of his stick echoes in the narrow tunnel leading down to the storage area.

‘We ought to call for backup,’ Adam says, drawing his Sig Sauer.

He pulls out the magazine, checks that it’s full, pushes it back in and feeds the first bullet into the chamber.

‘There’s no time, but I can go in on my own,’ Joona says.

‘I was thinking of telling you to wait outside, you’re not a police officer any more, and I can’t take responsibility for you,’ Adam explains.

They emerge into an underground garage, with metal doors leading to the storage area. Large ventilation pipes run across the ceiling.

‘I can usually manage,’ Joona says, stopping in front of the door.

He pulls out his large-calibre pistol. It’s a Colt Combat, with new sights and an improved trigger coil. He’s filed one side of the rosewood grip so that the gun sits snugly in his left hand.

Adam walks over to the keypad to the coded lock, and pulls out the list of staff codes. The little screen casts a blue light over his hand and up across the white concrete wall.

‘Stay behind me,’ he whispers, and opens the door.

They go inside, closing the steel door carefully behind them, and start to head along a dark side-passage. The monotonous grey metal walls and series of storeroom doors stretch off into the darkness.

They’re approaching the first wider passageway which, according to the plan, runs the entire length of the basement.

They move across the cement floor almost silently. The only sound is from Adam’s breathing, and the faint tapping of Joona’s stick.

Adam is walking ahead, and slows down when he reaches the junction with the main passageway. His right shoulder rubs against the metal wall, he stops, then swings round the corner quickly with his pistol raised.

There’s a buzzing sound as the ceiling lights come on ten metres away. It sounds like a large parrot climbing the bars of its cage. Adam lowers his gun and tries to breathe through his nose.

The barrel of his pistol is moving slightly in time with his raised pulse.

The sudden light makes Joona’s migraine flare behind his eye. It’s not serious, but he still has to lean against the wall for a moment before following Adam.

The lights in the main passageways are evidently activated by motion-sensors.

Joona looks up at one of the security cameras. The dark lens shimmers enigmatically.

The pipes running across the ceiling click. But otherwise the basement is completely quiet.

They reach a side-passage and once again there’s a clatter of tiny claws as a section of lighting comes on in the main walkway.

They turn left, walking past rows of sealed storerooms, and pass two shabby sofas as the lights go out behind them.

‘We ought to reach his area soon,’ Adam whispers.

Indirect light from an electronic lock some way ahead makes the storerooms seem to bulge out into the passageway.

Adam pauses to listen.

There’s a drumming, rattling sound somewhere. They can both hear something hard knocking against metal.

Then everything falls silent again.

They wait several seconds before continuing to move forward into the darkness.

There’s a sudden scraping sound, then a metallic noise far in the distance. Joona points up at a camera in the ceiling: the lens has been covered with duct-tape.

Adam stops before he reaches the next main passageway, moves his pistol to his left hand, wipes his right palm on his trousers, gives his hand a shake, then takes a firm grip of his gun. He notices that some gold glitter from the woman in the hotel room has stuck to the sleeve of his jacket, and glances quickly at Joona, focuses and darts round the corner.

The ceiling clicks and ticks along the passageway as the lights come on in quick succession.

The walls, floor and ceiling are bathed in sharp light, but beyond the lights there’s nothing but blackness. Even though the passageway runs another fifty metres or so, only the first ten are visible.

‘Stop,’ Joona says quietly behind Adam.

They both stand completely still in the illuminated passageway. A drop of sweat falls from the tip of Adam’s nose. Joona leans on his stick, feeling strangely dizzy.

The brittle knocking sound starts up again in the distance, a high-frequency metallic buzz.

Suddenly the lights in the main passageway go out when the sensors can’t detect any movement. The two men stand motionless, staring into the darkness. Up ahead there’s a faint glow across the floor, from one of the side-passages.

The light vanishes, then returns in the same sequence: three longer flashes, followed by three short ones.

The strange drumming sound echoes again, followed by something hitting a metal wall. It’s much closer now.

‘What do we do?’ Adam whispers.

Joona doesn’t have time to answer before the ceiling lights at the very far end of the main passageway come on.

A young woman is standing in the middle of the gangway, swaying. She’s wearing nothing but a pair of dirty tracksuit bottoms and a padded jacket. Her feet are bare, and her hair looks matted.

She’s tied round the waist with thick steel wire, which snakes off into the side-passage next to her. When she takes a step forward the wire makes a metallic rattling sound against the walls behind her.

Her right arm is moving strangely, twitching and then moving away from her. There’s a black band round her wrist. It looks like someone’s tugging the band.

She steps towards them. Her arm sinks and suddenly there’s a large shadow behind her. A huge dog with a bloody ear appears at her side. Its black leash hangs limp in her hand, and leads behind her back and up to the dog’s neck.

The huge dog is a Great Dane. It reaches her chest and must weigh twice as much as her.

The dog moves nervously, twitching its head anxiously.

The woman says something and then drops the leash on the ground. The dog leaps forward and picks up speed rapidly in the passageway. The huge animal is getting closer to Joona and Adam with powerful, silent movements. Its muscles ripple across its back and loins as the lights come on, section by section.

They move back and raise their guns just as the lights go off at the far end of the passageway.

The young woman is no longer visible.

The sound of the animal’s claws and its panting breath is getting louder.

They run into a side-passage, past padlocks that shimmer in the light from the main passageway, but fifteen metres in their way is blocked by a barricade of furniture and removal boxes.

Now they can hear barking from another direction.

A sharp pain flares behind one of Joona’s eyes. It’s as if a hot knife-blade is being pushed into his head, and when it gets pulled out again he can’t see for a few seconds.

The pain of his migraine almost makes him drop his gun.

The dog slides on the cement floor, comes round the corner, catches sight of him and speeds up again.

Joona raises his pistol, blinks hard in an effort to see properly, but the sight on the barrel is trembling too much.

It’s too dark, but he fires anyway. The sound of the shot multiplies off the metal walls and concrete. The bullet misses and ricochets between the walls.

The dog is approaching with powerful bounds.

Joona blinks and can just make it out in a series of flickering images, its pointed ears and shimmering muscles, shoulders and strong thighs. His stick clatters to the floor as he rests his shoulder against the corrugated metal of a storeroom door and takes aim again.

‘Joona!’ Adam cries.

The sights quiver and slip past the beast’s head. He squeezes the trigger. The sights slide down towards its dark torso, and the shot rings out as the bullet slams into the dog’s chest just beneath its throat. The recoil sends Joona staggering backwards. He tries to keep his balance and throws his arm out, hitting the corrugated metal with the barrel of the pistol.

The dog’s legs buckle. Its heavy body thuds to the floor, momentum carrying it forward. It slides across the cement floor and hits Joona’s legs. He sinks to one knee and lets out a gasp. His vision flares, and jagged shapes flash and pulse in front of his eyes.

The dog’s legs are still twitching as Joona gets to his feet and picks up his stick.

Some distance away Adam is clambering over the barricade of old furniture, rolled-up carpets and boxes. He gets tangled up in a bicycle and falls over the other side, hitting his head against a metal door.

In front of Joona is an upturned bed pushed against one wall. He shoves it over across the rest of the barricade and squeezes through the gap between it and the wall. Through piles of chairs, bags of clothes hangers and old-fashioned hairdryers on stands he sees Adam get to his feet just as the second dog launches itself at him.