by Lars Kepler
There’s some rubbish outside one of the storerooms, and the underwater lighting from the emergency exit illuminates an abandoned barrow.
Joona glances at the plan on the wall and locates the emergency exit, and works out where the camera is mounted. Everything is still quiet. A numbing feeling of exhaustion washes over him like a wave, forcing him to close his eyes for a couple of seconds.
The darkness on the computer screen is monotonous. Some of the cameras register light from coded locks, but nothing else.
‘Dark,’ Adam says.
‘Yes,’ Joona says, enlarging the fourteenth square.
He’s just about to close it when there’s a flicker in the bottom corner.
‘Hang on,’ he says.
Adam leans forward and looks at the dark image. There’s nothing in sight, everything is still, but then the little light in the corner flashes again.
‘What was that?’ Adam whispers, leaning closer to the screen.
The little light flashes again. It’s faint, and only manages to light up a small area of floor, revealing the pattern of the cement.
Joona clicks to enlarge the next camera image, then the next, and waits a while, but they show nothing but blackness. He looks at the overview, with all twenty-five cameras at the same time. Number fourteen flickers again, but the others remain lifeless.
‘The source of the light ought to be here, or here,’ Joona says, pointing at the plan. ‘But it’s not covered by one single camera, which makes no sense.’
‘Where are we?’ Adam asks, looking at the plan on the wall.
‘Camera fourteen must be at the far end of corridor C,’ Joona says.
He enlarges the images one by one. All black, still, but suddenly he stops.
‘Did you see something?’ Adam asks.
They both stare at the static black image.
‘That’s what I mean,’ Joona replies. ‘Where’s the green light? This is the camera pointing at the emergency exit.’
‘Try that one,’ Adam says, pointing. ‘That ought to pick up the light from the lock leading to the next section.’
Joona quickly enlarges the image. Also completely black. The door and lock can’t be seen at all.
That can only be because there’s something wrong with the camera. There seem to be an awful lot of faulty cameras down there.
‘There’s a huge area missing, loads of cameras,’ he says, looking at Adam.
‘Where?’
‘The whole of this upper area, along corridors C, D and E … that’s maybe fifty storerooms,’ Joona says, looking back at the image from camera fourteen again.
The faint light flickers across the uneven floor, and remains on for a moment. He can just make out the bottom of the metal doors before the light goes off, then comes on again.
‘That light’s an emergency signal,’ Joona says, getting up from the chair.
Security camera number fourteen is registering fragments of an emergency signal. Further along the corridor, where the cameras aren’t working, someone is flashing a light. It’s the international emergency signal using Morse code. SOS: three quick flashes followed by three longer ones, then three short ones again.
43
The automatic garage door whirrs shut behind them. The pain in his hip from walking down the slope makes Joona break out in a sweat. His heavy pistol is swinging against his ribs, and the sound of his stick echoes in the narrow tunnel leading down to the storage area.
‘We ought to call for backup,’ Adam says, drawing his Sig Sauer.
He pulls out the magazine, checks that it’s full, pushes it back in and feeds the first bullet into the chamber.
‘There’s no time, but I can go in on my own,’ Joona says.
‘I was thinking of telling you to wait outside, you’re not a police officer any more, and I can’t take responsibility for you,’ Adam explains.
They emerge into an underground garage, with metal doors leading to the storage area. Large ventilation pipes run across the ceiling.
‘I can usually manage,’ Joona says, stopping in front of the door.
He pulls out his large-calibre pistol. It’s a Colt Combat, with new sights and an improved trigger coil. He’s filed one side of the rosewood grip so that the gun sits snugly in his left hand.
Adam walks over to the keypad to the coded lock, and pulls out the list of staff codes. The little screen casts a blue light over his hand and up across the white concrete wall.
‘Stay behind me,’ he whispers, and opens the door.
They go inside, closing the steel door carefully behind them, and start to head along a dark side-passage. The monotonous grey metal walls and series of storeroom doors stretch off into the darkness.
They’re approaching the first wider passageway which, according to the plan, runs the entire length of the basement.
They move across the cement floor almost silently. The only sound is from Adam’s breathing, and the faint tapping of Joona’s stick.
Adam is walking ahead, and slows down when he reaches the junction with the main passageway. His right shoulder rubs against the metal wall, he stops, then swings round the corner quickly with his pistol raised.
There’s a buzzing sound as the ceiling lights come on ten metres away. It sounds like a large parrot climbing the bars of its cage. Adam lowers his gun and tries to breathe through his nose.
The barrel of his pistol is moving slightly in time with his raised pulse.
The sudden light makes Joona’s migraine flare behind his eye. It’s not serious, but he still has to lean against the wall for a moment before following Adam.
The lights in the main passageways are evidently activated by motion-sensors.
Joona looks up at one of the security cameras. The dark lens shimmers enigmatically.
The pipes running across the ceiling click. But otherwise the basement is completely quiet.
They reach a side-passage and once again there’s a clatter of tiny claws as a section of lighting comes on in the main walkway.
They turn left, walking past rows of sealed storerooms, and pass two shabby sofas as the lights go out behind them.
‘We ought to reach his area soon,’ Adam whispers.
Indirect light from an electronic lock some way ahead makes the storerooms seem to bulge out into the passageway.
Adam pauses to listen.
There’s a drumming, rattling sound somewhere. They can both hear something hard knocking against metal.
Then everything falls silent again.
They wait several seconds before continuing to move forward into the darkness.
There’s a sudden scraping sound, then a metallic noise far in the distance. Joona points up at a camera in the ceiling: the lens has been covered with duct-tape.
Adam stops before he reaches the next main passageway, moves his pistol to his left hand, wipes his right palm on his trousers, gives his hand a shake, then takes a firm grip of his gun. He notices that some gold glitter from the woman in the hotel room has stuck to the sleeve of his jacket, and glances quickly at Joona, focuses and darts round the corner.
The ceiling clicks and ticks along the passageway as the lights come on in quick succession.
The walls, floor and ceiling are bathed in sharp light, but beyond the lights there’s nothing but blackness. Even though the passageway runs another fifty metres or so, only the first ten are visible.
‘Stop,’ Joona says quietly behind Adam.
They both stand completely still in the illuminated passageway. A drop of sweat falls from the tip of Adam’s nose. Joona leans on his stick, feeling strangely dizzy.
The brittle knocking sound starts up again in the distance, a high-frequency metallic buzz.
Suddenly the lights in the main passageway go out when the sensors can’t detect any movement. The two men stand motionless, staring into the darkness. Up ahead there’s a faint glow across the floor, from one of the side-passages.
The light vani
shes, then returns in the same sequence: three longer flashes, followed by three short ones.
The strange drumming sound echoes again, followed by something hitting a metal wall. It’s much closer now.
‘What do we do?’ Adam whispers.
Joona doesn’t have time to answer before the ceiling lights at the very far end of the main passageway come on.
A young woman is standing in the middle of the gangway, swaying. She’s wearing nothing but a pair of dirty tracksuit bottoms and a padded jacket. Her feet are bare, and her hair looks matted.
She’s tied round the waist with thick steel wire, which snakes off into the side-passage next to her. When she takes a step forward the wire makes a metallic rattling sound against the walls behind her.
Her right arm is moving strangely, twitching and then moving away from her. There’s a black band round her wrist. It looks like someone’s tugging the band.
She steps towards them. Her arm sinks and suddenly there’s a large shadow behind her. A huge dog with a bloody ear appears at her side. Its black leash hangs limp in her hand, and leads behind her back and up to the dog’s neck.
The huge dog is a Great Dane. It reaches her chest and must weigh twice as much as her.
The dog moves nervously, twitching its head anxiously.
The woman says something and then drops the leash on the ground. The dog leaps forward and picks up speed rapidly in the passageway. The huge animal is getting closer to Joona and Adam with powerful, silent movements. Its muscles ripple across its back and loins as the lights come on, section by section.
They move back and raise their guns just as the lights go off at the far end of the passageway.
The young woman is no longer visible.
The sound of the animal’s claws and its panting breath is getting louder.
They run into a side-passage, past padlocks that shimmer in the light from the main passageway, but fifteen metres in their way is blocked by a barricade of furniture and removal boxes.
Now they can hear barking from another direction.
A sharp pain flares behind one of Joona’s eyes. It’s as if a hot knife-blade is being pushed into his head, and when it gets pulled out again he can’t see for a few seconds.
The pain of his migraine almost makes him drop his gun.
The dog slides on the cement floor, comes round the corner, catches sight of him and speeds up again.
Joona raises his pistol, blinks hard in an effort to see properly, but the sight on the barrel is trembling too much.
It’s too dark, but he fires anyway. The sound of the shot multiplies off the metal walls and concrete. The bullet misses and ricochets between the walls.
The dog is approaching with powerful bounds.
Joona blinks and can just make it out in a series of flickering images, its pointed ears and shimmering muscles, shoulders and strong thighs. His stick clatters to the floor as he rests his shoulder against the corrugated metal of a storeroom door and takes aim again.
‘Joona!’ Adam cries.
The sights quiver and slip past the beast’s head. He squeezes the trigger. The sights slide down towards its dark torso, and the shot rings out as the bullet slams into the dog’s chest just beneath its throat. The recoil sends Joona staggering backwards. He tries to keep his balance and throws his arm out, hitting the corrugated metal with the barrel of the pistol.
The dog’s legs buckle. Its heavy body thuds to the floor, momentum carrying it forward. It slides across the cement floor and hits Joona’s legs. He sinks to one knee and lets out a gasp. His vision flares, and jagged shapes flash and pulse in front of his eyes.
The dog’s legs are still twitching as Joona gets to his feet and picks up his stick.
Some distance away Adam is clambering over the barricade of old furniture, rolled-up carpets and boxes. He gets tangled up in a bicycle and falls over the other side, hitting his head against a metal door.
In front of Joona is an upturned bed pushed against one wall. He shoves it over across the rest of the barricade and squeezes through the gap between it and the wall. Through piles of chairs, bags of clothes hangers and old-fashioned hairdryers on stands he sees Adam get to his feet just as the second dog launches itself at him.
44
Adam cries out in pain as Joona pushes through the gap between the bed and the storeroom wall. He hears something made of glass break under the pressure. The lights in the main passageway go out but Joona can still see that the huge dog has clamped its jaws round Adam’s lower arm. It’s pulling backwards hard, snarling as its claws scrabble on the cement floor.
Adam is gasping and trying to hit the animal.
Joona can’t fire into the darkness, so tries to force his way through to them. A standard lamp with a broken shade, tucked into a pile of chairs, catches on his clothes.
The dog isn’t letting go of Adam’s arm. They crash into the metal wall together. Blood from Adam’s arm is running from its locked jaws.
Its paws slip on the polished cement floor, its claws unable to get any grip.
The dog jerks backwards again, trying to knock Adam off balance, but he’s managing to stay on his feet.
Joona shoves the lamp aside, its cord whips his cheek, but he makes it out past the bed and clambers over some boxes of books.
The dog makes a sudden downward jerk and when Adam stumbles forward it lets go and snaps at his neck. It misses and only catches part of the collar of his jacket, rips the fabric and tries to bite again. Adam throws himself back, falls and starts to kick out. The dog bites into his foot and tugs him towards it.
Joona pulls over a box of paperback books as he stumbles out on to the floor. He runs over with his pistol raised, but the dog suddenly lets go and disappears.
‘Big dogs,’ Joona says.
Leaning on his stick, he watches as Adam picks his pistol up off the floor and gets to his feet. Joona shuts his weary eyes for a moment, and can’t help thinking that he might be about to break.
They carry on towards the next main passageway. The lights go on ahead of them, and the clicking sound is back.
‘There,’ Adam says.
They catch a glimpse of someone disappearing into one of the side-passages. There’s a sound of clattering metal wire vibrating against the metal walls.
‘Did you see? Was it the same woman?’
‘I don’t think so,’ Joona replies, noticing how pale and sweaty Adam’s face is. ‘How are you doing?’
Adam doesn’t answer, just shakes off the blood running down the back of his hand on to the floor. His lower arm is injured, but his leather jacket prevented it being completely torn apart.
They stick to the right-hand side of the passageway in order to be able to see into the side-passage on the left. The metal wire scrapes and rattles against the metal walls.
A young woman is standing in the passageway, swaying. It’s not the same one as before. Her white jeans and chequered shirt are much dirtier.
‘He said you’d come,’ she mumbles in a brittle voice.
‘We’re police officers,’ Adam says.
She staggers and fumbles for a little dog-whistle attached to a cord around her neck.
‘Don’t do it,’ Adam says when he sees the second large dog get closer, crouching low with its ears folded down.
She’s been crying, her make-up has run down her face and her hair is hanging in messy clumps.
There’s blood around the waist of her shirt.
She rolls the dog-whistle between her fingers, then puts it to her lips.
Adam raises his pistol, takes aim and shoots the dog in the forehead. It collapses to the floor and the echo fades away.
She smiles at them through cracked lips, then staggers backwards when someone tugs on the metal wire round her waist.
‘We saw an SOS signal,’ Adam says.
‘I’m smart, aren’t I?’ she says wearily.
She starts to move back along the passageway, and the metal wire pul
ling her clatters against the walls and floor.
‘How many of you are there down here?’ Adam asks as they follow her.
They step over the dog and the pool of dark blood spreading out across the floor.
‘Where are you going?’
She doesn’t answer, and they carry on round a corner. Further along the dimly lit passageway is a faint light. They pass an open storeroom and in the gloom they can see a mattress on the floor, boxes, some old skis, and stacks of tinned food.
Someone tugs harder on the wire and the young woman keeps stumbling on, opens the next door and staggers into the storeroom.
Light shines out on to the door opposite, and her shadow sways across the corrugated metal and smooth walls.
There’s a growing stench of rotting rubbish.
Joona and Adam follow her with their pistols pointed at the floor. The light is coming from a pocket torch hanging from the ceiling, illuminating the nearest part of the large storeroom. Among a mass of removal crates and picture frames stands an emaciated man dressed in an unbuttoned mink coat.
It’s Filip Cronstedt.
Joona and Adam raise their guns.
He’s filthy, and has white froth at the corners of his mouth. His bare chest is covered with blood from a patchwork of cuts.
The first woman they saw, the one in the worn padded jacket, is sitting on a box in front of him, eating mushrooms from a jar with her fingers.
Filip hasn’t seen them yet. He’s carefully winding the retracted wire round a huge spindle, then scratches his neck and pulls the woman in the chequered shirt closer without looking up.
‘Filip,’ she whispers.
‘I need you on guard, Sophia … I don’t want to have to lock you up, but I’ve told you before, you can only have the light on when the door is closed.’
‘Filip Cronstedt?’ Adam says in a loud voice.
45
Filip Cronstedt looks up and stares at Adam with tired eyes and dilated pupils.
‘I’m the hatmaker,’ he says quietly.
Sweat is running down Joona’s back, and he can’t hold his pistol up any longer.
The torch hanging from the ceiling sways in a gust of air, and the shadows slide around the walls, its light reflecting off a large floor-mirror.