screams reverberating in his head, mingled with Regina’s cries in the forest. But this wasn’t a therapy session.
Then something occurred to him.
‘One thing, perhaps … My father and I have had some strange phone calls since the fire.’
‘From whom?’
‘I don’t know. They were anonymous calls.’
‘OK, but sometimes it’s possible to get the number anyway … We’ll give it a try.’
Marklund made a few more notes, then nodded. ‘Right, I think we’re done here.’ He looked at Per. ‘Many thanks. Would you like to go and bring Gerhard in now?’
Per stood up. He thought about Nilla, and asked, ‘How long will it take?’
‘Not long … Twenty minutes, maybe?’
‘OK … but Jerry doesn’t talk much, as I told you.’
As he left the room he looked at his watch and discovered that the interview had gone on for a good half- hour. Jerry had no doubt fallen asleep.
But when he got to reception his father was not fast asleep on the sofa; in fact, he wasn’t there at all. The sofa was empty.
Per stared at it for a few seconds, then checked the toilets in the little cloakroom. They were also empty.
The woman on reception looked up as Per went over to her. ‘The old man?’ she replied. ‘He left.’
‘Left?’
‘I think he spotted someone out in the street, and he went off.’
‘When?’
‘Not long ago. I’m not sure … maybe quarter of an hour ago?’
Per turned and was out of the police station in three strides.
He stood on the pavement looking around, blinking in the sunshine. A few cars went whizzing by along the street to his right, but there wasn’t a soul in sight.
Jerry had disappeared.
42
Kalmar was a labyrinth. Per had always thought it was just the right size, and easy enough to find your way around, but right now the town seemed like a confusing tangle of streets and pavements.
There was no sign of Jerry anywhere.
Per dashed over to the wide junctions at either side of the police station, then ran all the way around the block, but there was nothing. He switched on his mobile and tried to call Jerry. No reply.
After that he gave up and went back to reception. Lars Marklund was waiting just inside the door. He looked at his watch and asked, ‘Is there a problem?’
‘My father’s disappeared,’ said Per, his heart in his mouth. ‘I need to drive around and look for him.’
He turned away, but Marklund called after him, ‘Hang on! You can’t just go rushing off … Let’s have a description.’
Per stopped and came back, forcing himself to calm down.
Marklund took out a notebook and together they ran through Jerry’s appearance, height, and what he was wearing.
‘Good,’ said Marklund. ‘We’ll put out a call.’
Per hurried to the car. He started the engine, but didn’t set off. He clutched the wheel like a lifebuoy and tried to think – where could Jerry go? To a bar? To the bus station?
It was pointless, he would just have to search at random.
He pulled away and started to search, block by block. He turned left, then left again, scanning the streets around the police station. He met several cars and saw groups of schoolchildren on their way home, and mothers with buggies, but there was no sign of Jerry.
He was heading north towards the motorway when his phone began to ring in his pocket. He slowed down and got it out. ‘Hello?’
‘Where have you been, Per? I’ve been calling you for ages.’
It was Marika. Per could feel his guilty conscience like a weight on his shoulders, but he kept on staring through the windscreen. ‘With … I’ve been in a meeting.’
He still didn’t want to tell her he’d been interviewed by the police, and Marika didn’t ask any more questions. ‘You have to come to the hospital,’ she said.
‘I haven’t got time right now, Marika,’ said Per, gazing around. Still no Jerry. ‘I’ll be there in a little while, but at the moment I have to—’
She interrupted him. ‘I’ve been talking to Stenhammar.’
‘Stenhammar?’
‘Nilla’s doctor, Per. Don’t you remember?’
‘Yes, of course … What did he say?’
There was silence on the other end of the phone.
‘What is it, Marika?’
‘It’s a tumour,’ she said quietly. ‘A particular kind of tumour … It isn’t growing quickly, but it has to be removed.’
Per slowed down and closed his eyes briefly. ‘OK,’ he said. ‘But we knew that, didn’t we?’
Marika’s voice was still quiet. ‘It’s right next to the artery.’
Per didn’t understand. ‘Next to the artery?’
‘Yes. It’s wrapped itself around the main artery. The aorta.’
‘What does that mean?’
Marika fell silent again, then spoke even more quietly. ‘Nobody’s prepared to operate.’
‘But … they have to,’ said Per.
Marika didn’t reply.
‘They
‘Georg and I spent half an hour with Stenhammar. He’s spoken to several vascular surgeons, but he says none of them is prepared to risk it.’
‘Marika, I’m out in the car, there’s something I have to do for Jerry … But I’ll call you back soon.’
She started to say something, but he switched off the phone. He put his foot down. He had to find Jerry. He’d think about all the other stuff later, but first he had to find Jerry.
He gazed blankly out through the windscreen. Nilla …
He was on his way out of the town now. He passed a petrol station, followed by a grassy area on both sides of the road, with a viaduct crossing over it. There were fewer cars here.
He had almost reached the motorway. Best turn back.
Per looked up at the viaduct, a hundred metres away, and on the other side of the barrier he saw a dark- coloured car. It had stopped on the carriageway. The passenger door opened, and someone got out.
An old man in a grey coat, stooping. Per suddenly realized it was Jerry.
The car started to reverse; Jerry stood still. He seemed to be looking around, lost and confused. Then he started shambling forwards.
Per braked and stopped the car; he’d found Jerry, but couldn’t get to him. He was on the wrong carriageway. How could he get up on to the viaduct? The area was completely unfamiliar to him.
In the end he started to reverse. He was just about to do a U-turn and take the entry slip for the motorway, in defiance of the traffic regulations, when he saw that the car that had dropped Jerry off had stopped reversing. It
