The Disciple (25 page)

Sebastian looked at her, then at the pictures of the dead women.

‘I have no idea, to tell the truth.’

Ursula got to her feet. ‘I’m going to ring the lab; I need to have a conversation with someone sane.’

Torkel tried to catch her eye, but failed.

Before she reached the door Billy was on his feet too. He seemed to have thought of something, and was full of energy. ‘Hang on, there’s something else. How does he select them?’

He moved quickly across to the board and pointed to the photographs. ‘Look. Let’s say that it’s possible to track down your past relationships if you do a bit of hunting around and plan for a long time, but what about Annette Willén? How did he know about her? You only met her yesterday, didn’t you?’

The others took in what Billy had just said. It was as if the monster they were hunting was suddenly breathing down their necks. Billy looked at Sebastian, his expression serious. ‘Have you had any kind of feeling that someone might be following you?’

The question took Sebastian by surprise. Why hadn’t he thought of that possibility himself? Why hadn’t he seen that the gap in time between himself and the dead women had suddenly shrunk? From decades to less than twenty-four hours. It must have been the stress of having to accept the impossible that had stopped him from seeing.

‘I haven’t thought about it.’

But he was thinking about it now.

Seriously.

The following morning they were standing in the lift together. Vanja kept her eyes firmly fixed on the numbers counting down just above the door. They were heading for P, the car park.

Sebastian suppressed a yawn and rubbed his eyes wearily. He hadn’t slept much. He had found it difficult to stop his whirling thoughts. Hinde, the four dead women, the link. Everything was spinning around in his mind. He had dropped off at about four, only to be woken by the dream an hour or so later. By that time there was no chance of going back to sleep. He had got up, had a coffee, showered and driven to the police station to wait for Vanja. So that they could go and see Hinde.

‘If this is true, four women have died because of you,’ she said now, without looking at him.

Sebastian didn’t respond. What could he say? Sex with him was the only thing the four victims had in common. Sex with Sebastian Bergman. A death sentence.

‘You should have a warning sign around your neck. You’re worse than HIV.’

‘You might think I deserve this,’ Sebastian said quietly, ‘but would you be kind enough to keep quiet for a while?’

Vanja turned to him, her expression uncompromising. ‘I’m sorry, is this difficult for you? Well, let me tell you something: you’re not the victim here.’

Sebastian gritted his teeth and refrained from answering back. There was no point.

Perhaps he wasn’t the victim in the true sense of the word, but nor was he to blame. He couldn’t possibly have predicted that someone would track down some of his nocturnal adventures decades later and brutally murder them in order to demonstrate his power over Sebastian in a perverse way. Just as he could not have predicted or prevented the tsunami. He kept his mouth shut. She would never understand. He found it painful. More painful than Vanja could possibly imagine.

‘Have you had any kind of feeling that someone might be following you?’

Sebastian couldn’t get Billy’s words out of his head. How could you tell if someone was following you? He had no idea. In the taxi on the way to Kungsholmen this morning he had glanced out of the rear window from time to time, but it was impossible to tell whether any of the cars behind them might be following him or not. Perhaps it was an instinct that police officers developed, and he wasn’t a police officer. But no, that couldn’t be true either. He had been following Vanja for several months, and she hadn’t noticed anything. He was sure of that. If she had, he wouldn’t be sitting in this dark blue Volvo with her.

Vanja negotiated her way adeptly out of the car park and drove up to the security barrier. As they drove out she indicated right.

‘Hang on.’

As always her expression was irritated as she glanced at him. He wondered if she saved that particular look for him, but didn’t pursue the thought.

‘Turn left instead. Drive past the main entrance.’

‘What for?’

‘A long shot. If someone is following me, he or she might be waiting there. I always go in that way, and if I’m not on foot, that’s where the taxi drops me off.’

Vanja flicked the indicator to signal a left turn and pulled out into the traffic. After another left turn they rounded the corner into Polhemsgatan.

‘Stop.’

Vanja did as he asked. Sebastian scanned the street ahead. There weren’t many pedestrians around, but Kronoberg Park lay opposite Riksmord. It was impossible to gain an overview of the park, at least from the car. Not like this, anyway.

Sebastian turned to Vanja. ‘Have you got a pair of binoculars in the car?’

‘No.’

Once again Sebastian’s gaze swept over the street. He knew quite a lot about following someone. Keep out of sight, but at a reasonable distance so that you could follow the person quickly if your target moved. Everyone he could see appeared to be on their way somewhere. No one was just hanging around or ambling along aimlessly. So that left the park. And, it struck him, the café on the corner. Of course. A perfect view without arousing the least suspicion. That was why he had chosen the place himself.

‘Drive up to the café on the next corner.’ Sebastian pointed and Vanja started the car. As they drove slowly past the main entrance to Riksmord, Sebastian looked out of the side window at the cars parked on the right. Tried to remember if there had been any other regular customers. Someone who had been there as often as him. He couldn’t think of anyone, but then he hadn’t really been interested in the clientele. His focus had been elsewhere.

There was nowhere to park, so Vanja drove halfway up onto the pavement, far too close to the pedestrian crossing. They both got out and crossed the road. Vanja took the two small steps leading up to the café in one stride and pushed open the door. Sebastian heard the familiar tinkling sound of the little bell on the inside. He was just about to follow Vanja up the steps when he stiffened.

A memory.

Just before they’d passed the entrance to police headquarters. Parked on the right-hand side. A blue Ford Focus. Pale blue. The blue of a little boy’s pyjamas. A man wearing sunglasses in the driver’s seat.

His thoughts wandered back to the day he had decided to tidy his study. He had looked out of the window. Looked down at his old parking space outside the antique shop. There had been another car there at the time. A pale blue car.

‘Are you coming?’ Vanja was still waiting, holding the door open for him. Sebastian barely heard her. His mind was whirling. The visit to Stefan. When he had gone out to fetch milk. The men failing to unload the piano. Behind the van. A pale blue car. Possibly a Ford Focus.

‘Sebastian?’

Without a word Sebastian turned, crossed the road and set off in the direction from which they had come. Towards the parked car.

‘Where are you going?’ Vanja shouted after him, but he didn’t reply. He increased his speed. Far behind him he heard the little bell tinkle again as Vanja let go of the door and followed him. He broke into a run. The suspicion grew into certainty as he saw the person in the driver’s seat of the pale blue Focus begin to move.

The driver leaned forward.

Started the car.

Sebastian lengthened his stride.

‘Sebastian!’

The blue car pulled out. Sebastian ran between two parked cars and out into the street. Some idea in his head of blocking the road with whatever he had. His body. For a moment it looked as if the driver of the Ford was intending to do a U-turn, but Sebastian could see that he would never be able to swing around; the street was too narrow. Evidently the driver realised the same thing; he straightened up the car and put his foot down instead. Aiming for Sebastian.

‘Sebastian!’ Vanja again. Too far away. More urgency in her voice this time. She realised what was about to happen.

The car was only a dozen metres away from Sebastian, and showed no sign of slowing down. Quite the reverse. The sound of the revving engine grew louder and louder. The car was picking up speed. Realising that the driver had no intention of stopping, Sebastian hurled himself sideways, between two parked cars. It might have been his imagination, but he thought he felt the Ford catch the heel of his shoe as it raced past.

It continued at high speed. Vanja drew her gun, but knew she couldn’t shoot at a fast-disappearing car in the centre of Stockholm, and slid it back into its holster. She ran to the spot where Sebastian had fallen. From where she was standing it had been difficult to see whether the car had hit him or not. She crouched down beside him.

‘Are you okay?’

Sebastian turned towards her. Out of breath. Shaken. He was bleeding from a small cut on his temple, and the palms of his hands were grazed.

‘The number. Get the number of the car.’

‘Already done. Are you okay?’

Sebastian considered the question. Raised a hand to his head and stared at the blood. He must have hit one of the parked cars as he fell. Used his hands to break the fall. It could have been much worse. He let out a long breath.

‘Yes. I’m okay.’ He got to his feet with Vanja’s help and dusted himself off as best he could, then they set off towards their illegally parked car.

‘Did you manage to get a look at him?’ Vanja wanted to know.

Sebastian shrugged his shoulders. It hurt a bit. He must have fallen more heavily than he had first thought. ‘Sunglasses and a cap.’

They walked the rest of the way to the car in silence. Before Sebastian got in, he turned to Vanja. ‘Billy was right. Someone was following me.’ He realised he was stating the obvious, but he needed to say it. Put it into words. Someone had been following him. Everywhere. He hadn’t had a clue. It was an almost unreal feeling. Unreal and unpleasant. He had been under surveillance.

‘Yes.’ Vanja gazed back at him across the roof of the car, and this time she didn’t look annoyed. Even the least positive interpretation of her expression would reveal a certain sympathy. Sebastian decided there and then that whatever happened he would stop following her. Never stand outside her apartment block again. Never travel in the next carriage on the subway. He would ring Trolle and tell him to pack in the whole thing. Enough.

An hour or so later they parked and got out of the car. It was going to be another glorious summer’s day, and the heat struck them as they opened the door. They had barely spoken during the drive, which had suited Sebastian very well. He needed to be left in peace with his thoughts.

Vanja’s mobile rang. She took the call as she locked the car, and moved away slightly. Sebastian stayed where he was, looking over at the impersonal concrete building behind the high fence. Another greeting from his past. Another place that turned out to be more or less unchanged. This wasn’t the plan at all. He was supposed to be picking up his life again. A new beginning. A fresh start. That was the idea of trying to get back into Riksmord.

To get a life before he could become part of a life.

But then the past had caught up with him. Hinde. The dead women. Everything about this case was dragging him back. Many years had passed since he was last here. He had completed his interviews with Edward Hinde in the summer of 1999 and left Lövhaga for what he thought would be the last time. And now here he was again. Behind those barred windows, the high fence topped with barbed wire and the reinforced doors was Sweden’s most dangerous and most disturbed criminal. Sebastian realised he was a little nervous about the forthcoming encounter. Edward Hinde was extremely intelligent. Manipulative. Calculating. He had the ability to see through most things. You needed to be on top form for a meeting with Hinde, otherwise he quickly gained the upper hand. With everything that had happened, Sebastian wasn’t sure he could manage to keep his guard up.

Vanja came over to him. ‘We were already looking for the Focus. It was reported stolen from Södertälje. In February.’