The Disciple (68 page)

They went down in the lift. Neither of them spoke. Ralph was still looking smug as Sebastian bundled him out of the lift and opened a metal door. A long culvert opened out in front of them. Pipes running along the ceiling, with green and yellow labels on them. Bare walls, apart from lights in the form of white hemispheres approximately every five metres on both sides. Sebastian pushed Ralph into the corridor. Their footsteps echoed on the bare concrete floor.

‘Where are we going?’ Ralph wanted to know.

‘To the car park.’

After about twenty metres Sebastian stopped in front of a white door with two large lever handle locks, both angled up to the left. The words safe room were stencilled in the middle of the door, with a notice underneath stating that a maximum of sixty people could be accommodated inside.

‘Wait . . .’

Ralph stopped; Sebastian turned the handles to the right and opened the door, its hinges screeching. He groped around and found the light switches, then grabbed hold of Ralph’s arm.

‘What are you doing? Why are we going in here?’

Ralph resisted, but Sebastian more or less dragged him into the room and over to a radiator fixed to the wall opposite the door. He took out the key to the handcuffs, freed one of Ralph’s hands, spun him around a quarter turn and fastened one of the handcuffs to the radiator instead.

‘What are you doing?’

‘Edward is good. But he’s been stuck in Lövhaga for fourteen years because I put him there . . .’

Sebastian walked back to the door and left the safe room. Ralph looked around nervously. He could hear Sebastian’s footsteps echoing along the corridor. The room was painted white. There were two benches fixed to one wall, but otherwise it was empty. Sebastian reappeared, carrying an old wooden chair.

‘. . . which means I’m better,’ he concluded his sentence.

He put the chair down just inside the door.

‘You might be better than Edward, but you’re handcuffed to a radiator . . .’

Sebastian turned and closed the door. The bare room amplified the sound as the heavy metal door slammed shut and Sebastian turned both locks. Ralph swallowed. They were locked in. He didn’t like it.

‘So I’m the best.’

Sebastian didn’t appear to be in a hurry; he walked slowly over to Ralph. Came and stood very close. Ralph found it difficult to look him in the eye. This didn’t feel good. This didn’t feel good at all.

‘But do you know what I’m not?’ Sebastian didn’t bother waiting for a reply. ‘I’m not a police officer. Which means I can do this.’

Suddenly and with absolutely no warning he head-butted Ralph. His aim was perfect. His forehead hit Ralph smack bang in the middle of his nose. There was a crunching sound and blood began to pour from both nostrils. Ralph cried out and collapsed. Sebastian walked calmly back to the chair and sat down. He watched as Ralph raised his free hand to his nose and stared at the blood, as if he couldn’t grasp that it was coming from him. Hitting Ralph gave Sebastian no pleasure whatsoever. However, it was a rapid and effective way of making him realise that Sebastian was capable of absolutely anything. It seemed to have worked. Ralph was still staring at the blood with a look of pure shock on his face and tears in his eyes. Sebastian leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees and clasping his hands.

‘I’m very good at forming an impression of a person by seeing how he lives. I’ve been to your apartment.’

Ralph sat there taking short breaths through his nose in an attempt to stop the flow of blood, which meant he had to swallow it instead. He was breathing heavily. Struggling. He really didn’t want to lose. He had seized the power. He wasn’t going to allow Sebastian to take it away from him. He would not permit that to happen. He was stronger than he had ever been.

‘It’s a question of finding the patterns,’ Sebastian went on. ‘In the little things. Seeing the connections. There were no blinds in your apartment. Not even in the bedroom. You had a torch in the bathroom. One by the bed. One in every room, in fact. A box full of fuses, batteries, spare bulbs.’

He paused for effect.

‘I would say that you don’t like the dark.’

The look he got from Ralph confirmed how right he was.

‘What happens in the dark, Ralph? What comes to you in the dark? What are you so afraid of?’

‘Nothing . . .’ Barely a whisper.

‘So it’s okay if I turn off the lights?’

Sebastian straightened up and reached for the double switch on the wall. Ralph didn’t answer. He swallowed hard, his eyes darting all over the room. Sebastian thought he could see beads of sweat appearing on his forehead. The room wasn’t hot.

‘Please, I know where he is,’ Ralph begged.

‘I believe you. But as I said to Edward, I’m tired of playing games with psychopaths.’

‘I’m not playing games.’

‘I can’t take the risk.’

Sebastian flicked one of the switches. One row of lights went out. Ralph screamed.

‘It will be so dark in here that you won’t know if your eyes are closed or open,’ Sebastian said quietly.

Just like back there, Ralph thought. Like it was in the cellar. With them.

He started shaking, tugging at the handcuff. Hyperventilating. Sebastian hesitated. Ralph’s reaction was stronger than he could have imagined. He was obviously terrified. But Sebastian had to go on. He conjured up a mental picture of Annette Willén. If that wasn’t enough, he had the pictures of Vanja on his phone.

It was enough.

He turned off the lights.

Ralph gasped and held his breath. He pressed himself against the wall and curled up into a ball, making himself as small as possible. He tried to keep quiet, but he could hear that every time he exhaled he was whimpering helplessly. Was that a strip of light, or a visual memory in his over-stressed brain? Was that the sound of the door opening? Yes, it was. They came creeping in. Naked. They had found him. The people in the animal masks. The animals in human form. They were breathing. Whispering.

‘Switch the light on. Please . . . switch the light on.’

A thin beam of light was shining in his face. The torch on Sebastian’s phone. Ralph turned towards it, trying to absorb as much of it as he could. The animal people were waiting in the shadows all around him. Swaying from side to side. Dancing with peculiar, padding footsteps. Waiting for the darkness to swallow him up again so that they could come close.

Around him.

On him.

Inside him.

‘Where’s Edward?’ Sebastian asked, invisible behind the light.

He turned off the torch.

‘Off.’

The darkness. Swallowing him up.

‘On.’

The light came back.

‘Off.’

It was gone again.

‘On. Which do you prefer?’

Ralph was incapable of answering. All he could do was pant.

‘Off.’

Ralph was holding his breath. There was complete silence in the darkness. Apart from the whispering. The soft footsteps. The movement of the naked bodies. He was not alone. Never alone.

‘Sebastian . . .’

No response. Something grabbed hold of his leg. Ralph let out a roar of anguish. He was transported straight back.

To the past.

To them.

It struck him with full force. More than a memory. He could smell it. Taste it. He could hear the sounds. They were here. Touching him. They were wild. It had been such a long time. It would never end. He tried to shake them off. Spun around, writhing and kicking. He felt a burning pain as the skin around his wrist was torn off. He banged his head on the radiator. Yanked at the handcuffs again, felt something snap inside his wrist. It didn’t matter. He was incapable of screaming anymore.

The light went on. He was bathed in light. White, healing light from the ceiling. Sebastian came over to him. Ralph smiled gratefully.

‘Where did it begin, Ralph? Where are they?’

He wanted to tell him. Wanted to yell it at the top of his voice. But all he could manage was a staccato mumble. Sebastian bent down.

‘Åk-er-s-st . . .’

Sebastian leaned even closer. Ralph’s hot breath against his ear. Only a whisper now. He listened and straightened up.

‘Thank you.’

What could he say? This wasn’t his proudest moment. But he had said so many times that he would do anything he could to get his daughter back. The same thing applied now: he would do anything to avoid losing another daughter.

He walked back to the door. Unlocked it and pushed it open. He turned and looked at Ralph, slumped on the floor. Blood on his face and trickling down his arms, his hair plastered to his forehead, eyes staring blankly.

Sebastian’s mobile pinged.

The third picture.

He switched off the lights and left the room.

Nothing. Nothing. Nothing.

When they got back from Märsta, Torkel had sent cars out to the other three crime scenes from the nineties. Just to be on the safe side. Whatever happened, nobody would be able to say he hadn’t done all he could – least of all himself. So he had also sent cars out to Bromma, Nynäshamn, Tumba and Liljeholmen, where the four most recent murders had taken place. He didn’t really think Hinde would go there; they belonged to Ralph. However, Torkel would have sent patrol cars all around the world if he thought it might save Vanja. A female police officer kidnapped by an escaped serial killer suffering from a sexual neurotic disorder. Nobody expected him to treat this like a normal disappearance, and he was making no attempt to do so. He called in the resources he thought he needed, and in addition a number of off-duty colleagues had come in voluntarily to ask if there was anything they could do. The effort was immense, but so far it had led nowhere. All the cars he had sent out had now reported back.

Nothing. Nothing. Nothing.

Torkel wondered what to do next. The best and closest thing they had was still Ralph. It didn’t matter what he wanted; he was going to speak to Torkel. If he knew anything, Torkel was going to get it out of him. He left the office and went over to the custody suite. Ralph’s cell was empty. He went to find one of the guards.

‘Where’s Ralph Svensson?’

‘Your colleague came and collected him about an hour ago.’

Torkel didn’t even need to ask which colleague. He hadn’t seen Sebastian since they got back from Märsta. He had leapt out of the car and disappeared the minute they arrived. About an hour ago. Torkel grabbed his mobile. Sebastian answered immediately.

‘Yes?’

‘Where the fuck is Ralph?’

‘Calm down. He’s in a safe room in the culvert. It might be an idea to go down there and switch on the lights for him.’

Torkel let out a long breath. He had been willing to go a long way to extract any information Ralph might have, but he knew that Sebastian was prepared to go further. Too far, probably. For a moment Torkel had pictured Sebastian removing a suspected serial killer from the building.

‘Where are you?’ he asked.

The brief silence that followed told him straight away that he wasn’t going to like the answer.

‘I can’t tell you that right now.’

That could mean only one thing. He was about to go too fucking far, and then some.

‘You know where Edward is,’ Torkel stated flatly.

‘Yes.’

‘Give me an address. Stay where you are and wait for us.’

‘No.’

‘Sebastian, for fuck’s sake! Do as I say!’

‘Not this time.’

Not this time, Torkel thought. As if he had ever done what Torkel said. What anyone said. Taking orders wasn’t one of Sebastian Bergman’s strong points.

‘You can’t go there alone.’ Torkel made one last attempt to reason with him. Find the right buttons to press. Get through to him. ‘You might be suicidal, but think about Vanja.’

‘That’s exactly what I’m doing.’

Sebastian paused. Torkel didn’t know what to do. Beg, plead, lose his temper? They would all be equally ineffective.

‘I’m sorry, Torkel, but this is about Hinde and me now.’

Sebastian ended the call. The car headlights illuminated the sign for Åkers Styckebruk with an arrow pointing to the right.

Sebastian indicated and turned off.

Whatever happened, it would soon be over.

Torkel had to restrain himself from hurling the phone to the floor. Fucking idiot. Sebastian, of course, but it applied to him too. He should have kicked him out. Shouldn’t have brought him in. Not again. No way. Would he never learn?

Before he left he told the custody officer where to find Ralph Svensson. He told them to go and get him and put him in an interview room. He would be there in five minutes. First of all he was going to mobilise everyone available, with the aim of finding Sebastian. He must have taken a car; with a bit of luck they might be able to track him using the GPS. If not, they would find out whose car he had borrowed and put out a call right across the area, giving the make, model and registration number. The custody officer called back just as Torkel walked into his office. They had found Ralph Svensson, but he was in no condition to be questioned. He was virtually catatonic. No response when he was touched or spoken to. He had been hurt, or had hurt himself. Injuries to his face and head. Broken wrist. He was on his way to the hospital.