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“Same to you, Erik,” says Joona. “Are you back in Stockholm?”

“We’re actually having Christmas dinner right now.”

“Do you remember I said we would find your son?”

“Yes, I remember.”

“You had your doubts from time to time.”

“Yes,” says Erik. “I admit it.”

“But I knew it would all work out,” Joona goes on.

“I didn’t.”

“I know, I noticed,” says Joona. “That’s why there’s something I need to say to you.”

“Yes?”

“What did I tell you?” asks Joona.

“What?”

“I was right, wasn’t I?”

“Yes, you were right,” Erik replies.

“Merry Christmas,” says Joona, ending the call.

Erik stares at the phone with a surprised expression, then turns to Simone. He looks at her transparent skin and wide mouth. Webs of worry lines have appeared around her eyes lately. She smiles at him, and he follows her gaze as she looks at Benjamin.

Erik watches his son for a long time. His throat aches with love. Benjamin is eating French fries, his expression serious. He has disappeared into his thoughts. His eyes stare vacantly, as if he has been sucked into his memories and the spaces between them. Erik reaches out with his uninjured arm, squeezes his son’s fingers, and sees him look up.

“Merry Christmas, Dad,” says Benjamin with a smile. “Here, have some fries.”

“What about taking some of this food over to see Granddad?” Erik suggests.

“Are you serious?” asks Simone.

“How much fun is it being in the hospital at Christmas?”

Simone smiles at him and calls for a taxi. Benjamin goes over to the counter for a bag to put the food in.

As their taxi slowly drives past Odenplan, Erik sees his family reflected in the window, superimposed over the enormous decorated Christmas tree in the square. They slip past the branches as if they were dancing together around it. There it stands, tall and wide, hundreds of tiny glowing lights curling up towards the bright shining star.

Copyright

This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.

Blue Door

An imprint of HarperCollins
Publishers

77–85 Fulham Palace Road,

Hammersmith, London W6 8JB

www.harpercollins.co.uk

First published in Great Britain by Blue Door 2011

Copyright © Lars Kepler 2009

English translation © Ann Long 2010

All rights reserved

Originally published in 2009 by Albert Bonniers Förlag, Sweden, as
Hypnotisören

Lars Kepler assert the moral right to be identified as the authors of this work

A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library

Source ISBN: 9780007359127

Ebook Edition © June 2012 ISBN: 9780007412457

Version 1

All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this ebook on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins.

HarperCollinsPublishers has made every reasonable effort to ensure that any picture content and written content in this ebook has been included or removed in accordance with the contractual and technological constraints in operation at the time of publication.

THE
NIGHTMARE
LARS KEPLER
Translated from the Swedish by Laura A. Wideburg

International Praise for
The Nightmare
:

‘One of the most exciting Swedish crime novels of recent years … It doesn’t get better than this’

Göteborgsposten

‘Joona Linna is quietly assured and as smart as a bag full of
Morses

Metro

‘Larsson is destined to have many heirs….Kepler is by far the best’

Time

‘A high-octane, taut thriller’

Marie Claire

‘Intricate detective work and heart-ticking suspense’

Boston Globe

‘This sophisticated literary duo turns out novels different from anything else coming from Sweden, inventive action thrillers with an almost cinematic density’

The Australian

‘Once again the authors have succeeded in making themselves stand out in the torrent of Swedish crime novels’

Helsingborgs Dagblad

‘The reader is ready to sell his own soul for the opportunity to read this book without interruption, in one sitting’

Arbetarbladet

‘The pace of this crime thriller leaves the reader short of breath’
Buch-magazin

Table of Contents

The word ‘music’ comes from the ‘art of the muses’ and reflects the Greek myth of the Nine Muses. All nine were daughters of the powerful god Zeus and the titan Mnemosyne, goddess of memory. Euterpe, the muse of music, is often portrayed holding a double flute to her lips. Her name means ‘Giver of Joy.’

The gift of musicality does not have a generally agreed-upon definition. There are people who lack the ability to hear differing frequencies in music while, on the other hand, there are people born with an exact memory for music and perfect pitch so they can reproduce a specific tone without any external reference.

Throughout the ages, a number of exceptional musical geniuses have emerged, some of whom have achieved lasting fame—Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart, who began to tour the courts of Europe at the age of six; Ludwig van Beethoven, who wrote many of his masterpieces after becoming totally deaf.

The legendary Niccolò Paganini was born in 1782 in the Italian city of Genoa. He was a self-taught violinist and composer. To this day, very few violinists have been able to perform Paganini’s swift, complicated works. Until his death, Paganini was plagued by rumours that to gain his musical virtuosity he’d signed a contract with the Devil.

In the light of the long June night, on becalmed waters, a large pleasure craft is discovered adrift on Jungfrufjärden Bay in the southern Stockholm archipelago. The water, a sleepy blue-grey in colour, moves as softly as the fog. The old man rowing in his wooden skiff calls out a few times, even though he’s starting to suspect no one is going to answer. He’s been watching the yacht from shore for almost an hour as it’s been drifting backwards, pushed by the lazy current away from land.

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