She had stood there frozen to the spot; she had closed her eyes and waited for the dull thud of bodies hitting the rocks, and after a second or two the thud came.
The forest was silent. Then Hanna heard something in the darkness: the sound of whimpering from down below.
‘Ivan?’ she had shouted over the edge.
The whimpering continued, but the voice sounded like Jan’s. Then it stopped.
Hanna had turned and fled. Leo was gone; he had already run off into the night, and she decided to let him be. Kidnapping him and trying to put the blame on Jan Hauger had been Ivan’s idea, not hers. She was glad Leo had got away.
She had stumbled down through the trees to her rented car, then driven back to Valla on the motorway.
By three o’clock she was home. She had locked the door, then flushed the gloves, the syringe and the empty ampoule of Valium down the toilet; anything that could link her to Leo’s abduction had to go. Then she had gone to bed, repeating the same mantra over and over again in her head.
Nothing. She knew nothing. Nothing about the fire. Nothing about Ivan Rössel. Nothing about Jan Hauger and his obsession with Alice Rami.
But what was going to happen now? The lack of certainty almost drove her mad.
She had called Lilian on Saturday morning.
Lilian’s voice was subdued when she answered the phone. Hanna tried to sound perfectly normal, and asked what had happened on Friday night.
‘Nothing,’ Lilian said. ‘Nothing at all. Rössel never came to the visitors’ room. Nobody came... so in the end we went home.’
‘What a shame,’ Hanna said.
She didn’t know what else to say. She didn’t really want to speak to Lilian at all, but there was one question she had to ask: ‘Have the police called you?’
‘No,’ Lilian said. ‘Why would they do that? Do they suspect something?’
‘I shouldn’t think so,’ Hanna said quickly.
But of course that was exactly what she thought. After all, the grave that had contained the remains of Lilian’s brother was open now. When the police found Ivan’s and Jan’s bodies, they would also find John Daniel, and his family would be informed. They would know, at long last. Hanna cared only about making sure she wasn’t involved.
Nothing, she knew nothing.
Lilian was quiet for a moment, then she went on: ‘But Marie-Louise called last night; did she speak to you as well?’
‘Yes.’
‘So you know Leo Lundberg was missing.’
‘Yes.’
‘And what about you? Do you have anything to tell me, Hanna?’
‘No, nothing,’ Hanna said. She quickly put down the phone and let out a long breath.
Nothing.
She had gone back to her lonely bed and thought about Ivan. She had been obsessed with him for months, dreamed of helping him, getting him out of St Patricia’s at any price. But they had managed only a few brief conversations in the visitors’ room, supervised by Carl, who was always ready to accept a bribe. They had made love once, on the mattress down in the safe room.
Now Ivan was gone. She missed him.
But she realized that she actually missed Jan Hauger too.
Högsmed has paused in his account of the weekend’s events. He takes a deep breath and continues: ‘So we had a number of incidents on the same night. But eventually we managed to bring the situation under control, and all the patients are now accounted for... with the exception of the person who escaped. He was found dead, in the company of’ — the doctor glances sideways at Marie-Louise — ‘the person we suspect of helping him to escape. I am talking about your colleague, Jan Hauger. He is being treated in hospital; his injuries are severe, but he will live.’
No one speaks. Everyone seems to be holding their breath — including Hanna.
Jan is alive.
She hears the doctor sigh heavily, then he adds, ‘Staff recruitment falls within my remit, and of course I take full responsibility for the appointment of Jan Hauger.’
Marie-Louise looks down at the table, and chips in with a comment: ‘It wasn’t easy to tell. Jan seemed reliable in many ways, but there were a number of... warning signs. He recently told me he’d had mental-health issues in the past. He had apparently spent some time in a psychiatric unit when he was a teenager.’
Dr Högsmed continues his account. He tells them about Leo Lundberg’s disappearance from his foster family’s garden on Friday evening, and the ensuing police search — until he suddenly appeared at a farmhouse outside Gothenburg late that night. This meant that he hadn’t run away; he had been abducted in a car.
Finally Högsmed explains that the police found Jan Hauger unconscious at the bottom of a sheer drop in the forest, not far from the location where Leo turned up. The patient Jan had helped to escape was lying underneath him, dead. They had left Jan’s car down on the track, together with a written confession.
‘We are assuming this was a kind of suicide note,’ the doctor says. ‘Hauger and the patient had dug up a grave in the forest, but they let the child go... before throwing themselves off the precipice together.’
Silence once more. They probably all knew this already, but they still seem shocked. Andreas looks utterly devastated, and Hanna hopes her own expression is equally sorrowful.
‘How’s Leo?’ Marie-Louise asks.
‘He is unharmed. He doesn’t remember much, and perhaps that’s just as well,’ Högsmed says. ‘He only remembers that someone came up behind him in the garden when he was playing on the swing, and grabbed hold of his arms. The doctor found a needle mark on his arm, so no doubt some kind of sedative was involved, but he’s feeling fine now, under the circumstances.’
Hanna’s fists are tightly clenched under the table. What has Leo told the police? What does he remember about what happened in the darkness above the forest? He was drugged and blindfolded — so surely he won’t remember her? And if Jan recovers, will he be able to talk? Will anyone believe him?
She has to say something, and leans forward. ‘I’ve just remembered something.’
Everyone is looking at her, and she goes on: ‘It was just something Jan Hauger told me ages ago, and I don’t know if it means anything... but he said he took a group of children out on an excursion in the forest one day, and he separated one of the boys from the rest and left him out there.’
‘Oh?’ Högsmed says quickly. ‘And when was this?’
‘It was when he was working at some nursery or other... it sounded as if it was years and years ago.’
Marie-Louise stares at her for a long time. ‘You should have spoken to me about this, Hanna.’
‘I know, but I thought... I thought it was some kind of weird joke. I mean, Jan always seemed so reliable, didn’t he? And the children really liked him. Didn’t they?’
Högsmed looks at her and clears his throat. ‘This is highly confidential,’ he says, ‘but the police went to Hauger’s apartment over the weekend. They found a number of suspicious items, including a large number of drawings depicting extremely violent incidents and revenge fantasies. And one of Hauger’s neighbours used to work in the hospital; apparently Hauger had been asking questions about various escape routes.’
Hanna bows her head. ‘Poor Jan,’ she says quietly.
The others are looking at her oddly.
‘I just mean... he should have got some help. We should have been more vigilant.’
‘Disturbed antisocial tendencies are very difficult to spot,’ Högsmed says. ‘Even we professionals sometimes miss the signs.’
A final long silence.