“You can tell us,” Joona says.
“No, it-”
“There’s no danger here,” Saga whispers.
Veronique rubs her cheeks and then looks up at Joona.
“Pontus just called from our summerhouse. He was crying and asked me to forgive him. I didn’t know what he was talking about, but he told me he would do anything he could to escape reaping his nightmare.”
91
A rowboat of polished mahogany bobs on Malmsjo Lake. It’s floating on calm waters behind a large spit. A soft breeze blows from the east and brings the smell of manure from the farm on the other side of the water. Pontus Salman has pulled in the oars, but the boat hasn’t drifted more than ten meters during the past hour.
His rifle is lying across his lap.
The only thing he hears is the lapping of water against the hull and the slight rustle of wind through the leaves of the trees.
He closes his eyes for a moment. He breathes deeply, opens his eyes, sets the piston on the floor, and makes sure it is held by the wooden bar. His hand touches the barrel heated by the sun and then he aims the barrel at his forehead.
He feels ill at the thought of his entire head blowing off.
His hands shake so much that he has to pause. He decides to aim the barrel at his heart instead.
Swallows are flying lower over the lake as they hunt insects across the surface of the water.
It’s probably going to rain tonight, he thinks.
A white streak from an airplane appears in the sky. Pontus begins to think about his nightmare.
It seems to him as if the entire lake turns dark, as if black ink were spread over it.
He turns his attention back to the rifle. He puts the barrel into his mouth and feels it scrape against his teeth. He tastes metal.
He’s about to pull the trigger when he hears the sound of a car. His heart flutters in his chest. Various thoughts race through his mind in less than a second. He realizes it must be his wife, since no other person knows where he’s gone.
He sets the rifle back over his knees and feels the blood pound through his veins. He notices how much he’s shaking as he tries to peer between the trees toward their summerhouse.
There’s a man walking across the dock.
It takes Pontus a moment to realize that it’s the detective who’d come to the office and showed him the photograph that Veronique had taken.
The moment he recognizes the detective, a new fear rushes through him. Tell me it’s not too late, he thinks over and over again as he starts to row back to land. Tell me it’s not too late and that I don’t have to reap my nightmare. Just tell me it’s not too late.
Pontus Salman doesn’t row all the way to the dock. He’s pale and only shakes his head as Joona asks him to come closer. Salman seems to want to keep his distance, and he turns the boat so the prow is pointed back toward the lake.
Joona decides to sit on the broken, sun-bleached wooden bench at the very end of the dock. He listens to the lapping of the water and the rustling of the wind in the trees.
“What do you want from me?” asks Pontus. Terror is in his voice.
“I’ve just been talking to your wife,” Joona says.
“Talking?”
“Well, I-”
“You have talked to Veronique?” Pontus asks worriedly.
“I just need some answers.”
“There’s not enough time for that.”
“We’re not in any hurry,” Joona says, taking note of the rifle in the rowboat.
“What do you know about anything?” mumbles Pontus, more to himself than to Joona.
The oars move softly through the water.
“I know that your wife took the photograph.”
Pontus’s face falls. He lifts the oars and water rushes over his hands.
“I can’t stop the deal,” Pontus says morosely. “I needed the money. I was in too much of a rush.”
“So you signed the contract.”
“It was watertight, even if it came to light. Everyone could swear that they’d agreed in good faith. No one would be guilty.”
“But there was a glitch in the end, right?”
“Right.”
“I thought I’d wait to put you under arrest-”
“That’s because you can’t prove it, can you?” Pontus says.
“I haven’t discussed this with the prosecutor,” Joona continues. “I’m sure that we can offer you a lighter sentence, however, if you testify against Raphael Guidi.”
“I won’t testify. I will never testify,” Pontus says, and the intensity in his voice reveals his determination. “I see that you don’t comprehend what’s really going on here. I’ve signed a rather unusual contract, and if I hadn’t been so cowardly, I’d already have killed myself, just like Palmcrona did.”
“We’ll protect you if you testify,” Joona says.
“Palmcrona escaped it,” Pontus says. “He hanged himself and now the next director has to be the one responsible for signing the order. So Palmcrona means nothing to Raphael Guidi. He was able to escape reaping his nightmare…”
Pontus’s expressionless face changes into a smile. Joona studies it while he thinks that Palmcrona did not escape his nightmare after all. His nightmare must have been the death of his son.
“A psychologist is on her way over here,” Joona says. “She’s going to do her best to convince you that suicide is not the answer. You’re telling me that the next director of the ISP will have to sign the export order, but what will happen if he refuses?”
Pontus stops rowing in circles. The rowboat continues to drift away from the dock.
Pontus says, “He can refuse, but he won’t…”
Lars Kepler
The Nightmare
92 discovered
Axel wakes up when the telephone on his nightstand rings. He hadn’t been able to sleep until close to dawn, and only beside Beverly’s sweating body.
Now he observes her young face and can tell that she resembles Greta: the same mouth, the same eyelashes.
Beverly is whispering something in her sleep and rolls over onto her stomach. Axel feels the warmth of tenderness wash through him as he regards this heartbreakingly small young person.
He sits up in bed and reaches for the thin volume of Friedrich Durrenmatt’s The Visit. There’s an unexpected knock on his bedroom door.
“Just a minute,” Axel calls at the same moment Robert rushes into the room.
“I thought you were already awake,” Axel’s brother says. “I really need your advice about this new instrument that I’ve-”
Robert sees Beverly in the bed and halts abruptly.
“Axel,” he stammers. “What’s going on?”
Beverly wakes up when she hears Robert’s voice. When she sees Robert, she hides underneath the
