‘Start digging there... Right next to the trunk.’
Jan looks at the uneven ground. He is thinking about roots and secrets and different choices.
Then he picks up the spade, drives it into the ground and begins to dig. His body is full of energy now; he needs energy, because the ground is so hard. There aren’t many stones, but the spade must hack its way through tightly packed earth and tough root systems.
Rössel is still holding the other spade, but he is staring at the ground on the far side of the tree.
Jan keeps on digging, building up a pile of earth next to the trunk; a wide hole is opening up in front of him. From time to time he picks up the Angel and directs its beam at the hole, but he can see nothing yet.
‘Keep going,’ Rössel says.
Some of the roots are so thick that Jan can’t chop through them, so he digs out the earth around them and carries on downwards.
When he finally stops for a rest and looks at his watch, it is quarter to one. His arms are aching, but he keeps on digging.
Another slender root is sticking out of the earth — at least that’s what he thinks, until he sees that it is something else.
A yellowish bone.
The spade stops in mid-air as Jan stares down. He picks up the Angel again, and in the light he sees more bones. Bones and scraps of frayed material.
Rössel also sees the find, and nods. ‘Good... keep going.’
Jan hesitates. ‘I might damage him.’
‘It,’ says Rössel. ‘It’s only a body.’
Jan doesn’t answer; he bends his back and carries on. As carefully as possible he clears away the earth from around the bones; more and more pale fragments begin to appear. Slowly he reveals the shape of a skeleton, but the roots of the tree have grown during the passing years, and many bones have been broken or are missing.
After perhaps half an hour a large grey stone comes away from the damp wall of earth and rolls down into the bottom of the hole.
No, not a stone, Jan realizes — it’s a skull. He doesn’t want to look any closer, but he can see that bits of skin are still attached, like old paper.
Rössel says nothing; he simply climbs down and begins to gather up all the loose bones. He passes them up one by one, and Jan carefully lays them on the blanket. The round skull is placed there too.
Eventually there are no more bits to hand over.
‘Is that it?’ Jan asks.
‘That’s it,’ Rössel replies, taking a last swig from the bottle. ‘We just need to finish this off now.’ He clambers out of the grave, leans on the spade and smiles at Jan.
‘Finish this off?’
There is no answer to Jan’s question, but suddenly he hears the sound of rustling in the undergrowth behind him.
Boots.
Rössel glances in the direction of the noise. ‘Welcome,’ he says.
‘Hi, Ivan,’ a subdued voice replies in the darkness. It’s a woman’s voice; she sounds tired and out of breath.
Jan turns his head, holds up the Angel and sees someone he recognizes coming up the slope.
‘Hi, Jan.’
It is Hanna Aronsson, and she is moving slowly. She is carrying something: she has a small, limp body in her arms. With a blindfold around its eyes.
A sleeping child, or perhaps a child who has been drugged.
A boy.
55
Fifteen seconds later Jan is lying slumped on the ground.
Rössel has knocked him down, and it happened very quickly. One whirling blow with the spade in the darkness as Jan was staring at Hanna Aronsson, trying to understand why she was here. And who is the boy?
Rössel stepped forward and aimed at Jan’s right leg. The steel spade hit him just below the knee, the leg gave way and Jan went down in a flash of pain and nausea.
He loses consciousness.
Seconds pass, perhaps minutes.
‘Did everything go OK up there?’ He can hear Rössel’s voice.
And Hanna’s reply: ‘Yes, but I had to wait a while until he was outside on his own.’
‘Good,’ Rössel says.
The voices and the cold slowly bring Jan round, and when he looks up he can see a faint light. The Angel is lying in front of him, switched on, and in its glow he can just make out Rössel and Hanna like two shadows, a few metres away.
‘And he didn’t see you?’ Rössel asks.
‘No. Nobody saw me.’
Rössel has lowered the spade; he seems to be relaxing. He takes three steps towards Hanna and kisses her on the cheek, touches her blonde hair. ‘I’ve wanted to do that for so long,’ he says.
But his movements look stiff. His hands are unused to intimacy.
Jan has also recognized the boy: it is Leo. Leo Lundberg. Five years old, missing and the focus of a police search — Jan remembers Marie-Louise’s call, telling him that the boy had disappeared from his foster parents’ garden.
The blindfold covering Leo’s eyes is wide and black. He is breathing, but doesn’t appear to be awake; his body is heavy and inert in Hanna’s arms.
Jan watches as Rössel takes Leo and lays him down next to the hollow by the pine tree. ‘This is where he will lie,’ Rössel says. ‘Down here.’
It is like watching a shadow play. Jan feels dazed and somehow distant, but the pain in his leg is beginning to ease. He tries to sit up.
Rössel notices and turns to him. ‘Don’t move.’
Jan slowly shakes his head and sits up anyway. He tries to get Hanna to meet his gaze. ‘What are you doing?’ he asks. ‘Why have you brought Leo here?’
‘We didn’t bring him,’ Rössel says. ‘You did.’
Jan stares at him. ‘Me?’
‘This is the scene of the crime, this is where it all ends,’ Rössel says. ‘You even drew a map... A map with a confession, admitting what you’d done. It’s in the car, waiting for the police.’
Jan listens and looks at Hanna again, still trying to make eye contact. ‘What are you doing here, Hanna?’
But she merely glances at him, then looks away; in the light of the Angel her expression is blank, her eyes empty. ‘Sorry,’ she says, lowering her gaze. ‘But you were a perfect fit... You can save Ivan if you take the blame for the crimes he’s suspected of.’
‘I’m not taking the blame.’
‘Yes, you are. You’ve abducted boys in the past.’
Jan understands. Hanna has chosen him; he is a murderer who will be found dead next to an old victim and a new victim, while she and her Ivan disappear into the night. Rössel can be back at the hospital in an hour, and with a bit of luck no one will have noticed that he’s been gone.
Folie à deux. Shared psychosis. Or love over the wall. Jan recalls Dr Högsmed’s warning about getting too close to a psychopath, and looks at Hanna. ‘You got lost in the forest,’ he says.
She shakes her head. ‘I know what I’m doing. I’m here to set Ivan free... and you would do exactly the same for your Rami.’
Jan doesn’t answer.
Leo, he thinks. How is he going to save Leo?
‘Do it now, Hanna,’ Rössel says, offering her the spade. ‘Show me how strong you are.’
Hanna looks at the spade for a long time, then she closes her eyes. She doesn’t move. ‘I can’t,’ she says quietly.
‘It’s only a body.’ Rössel is still holding out the spade. ‘It can’t feel anything.’
‘I can’t do it.’
Only Jan is looking at Leo. He is still lying on the ground by the hole, but Jan suddenly notices that he is moving. The little boy can’t see because of the blindfold, but whatever Hanna has used to knock him out, chloroform or something similar, is starting to wear off.
But not quickly enough. Jan must keep talking: ‘There’s no way Rössel is going to be released, Hanna. He killed a guard tonight during his escape... He slit Carl’s throat.’