It was going to take him a while to get that picture. She would make sure of it.
She shook her head and turned away from him. He forced her down on the bed, threatening her with both the knife and the Taser. She tried to fight back just enough, prolonging the struggle without making him feel he had to use one of the weapons. It was a difficult balancing act; she had to writhe and resist as much as possible, while still giving him the impression that he was on the way to achieving his goal, that he would be the victor in the end, so that he didn’t decide to knock her out.
Anything to gain time.
Then she suddenly felt it. Something hard and sharp sticking up by the mattress on the right-hand side of the bed. It scratched her hand. He had started to push the nightdress over her face, and she had hurled herself as far to the right as possible, trying to get away from him. She tried to look at the sharp object, wanting to know what it was, but it was impossible from where she was lying; the angle was wrong, and the nightdress was almost covering her eyes. She tried to feel it with her hand instead. She couldn’t find it; she could no longer reach the edge of the bed with her right hand. She decided to start struggling again, this time with the aim of getting her hand closer to the sharp object. She began with a silent roar, tensing her body so that it became as rigid as a plank of wood. It seemed to throw him off balance for a moment. She threw herself to the right so that her hand could reach further over; her fingers fumbled over the edge of the mattress, feverishly searching for the sharp object. She hoped it would be loose. Hinde was pushing her down again, trying to gain control. She let him have it, but held on tightly to the edge of the bed with her right hand. It worked. She allowed him to start putting on the nightdress as her fingers continued their quest. She heard the nightdress tear as he pulled it over her head, and she fought back with her left arm. Suddenly she found what she was searching for. It was something metallic, sharp and hard. She lost her grip on it in the struggle, but now she knew roughly where it was, and she soon managed to get hold of it again. It felt like a broken spring, and it was loose. She tugged at it with her thumb and index finger, but it wouldn’t come out. So she changed tactics and started to bend it backwards and forwards in order to weaken it at the base. Backwards and forwards. As quickly as she could.
It came away and she concealed it in her hand with lightning speed.
She let him pull the nightdress over her head properly so that his focus would be on the task in hand. It worked. He was staring angrily at her as he picked up the knife again.
‘I will use this,’ he said.
She nodded. Allowed him to win. Gave in. She sat up and put on the nightdress, keeping the broken spring hidden in her clenched right hand. As she slid it over her body she dropped the spring between her legs, covering it with the fabric. She could feel it against her thigh like a tiny, slightly cold and sharp irritant.
It was anything but that.
It was hope.
Hinde took another picture of her. Then he came over and cut through the cable tie securing her left leg to the bed.
‘Turn over.’ Vanja knew what came next. He wanted her on her stomach. At first she thought about making it difficult for him, but then she realised she had a better chance of holding onto the spring if she did it herself. She placed her left leg over her right leg, pressing the spring between her thighs, then rolled her upper body. She cried out in pain as the cable tie around her right leg bit into her flesh, but she felt the spring move with her as she lay down on her stomach.
Hinde straddled her legs and began to tie her hands behind her back with a nylon stocking. He checked the knot carefully. It was as if he had slowed down now that she was lying there, ready for the next stage. He got up and stood at the end of the bed. Grabbed hold of her left foot and made sure her legs were spread wide apart before tying her ankle to the bed with another stocking. He did the same with her right ankle before cutting the cable tie. Satisfied with his work, he went back to the box. She watched him take out the various items in order. She recognised them. His supply of food and drink. He disappeared, presumably heading for a small, lockable storeroom.
She started to ease the nightdress up over her thighs so that she could get hold of the little spring.
She hoped he was going to be away for a while. She needed time.
The dirt track along which he was driving was overgrown and rarely used. It twisted and turned through the forest, which after a while was replaced by open fields on both sides. A short distance away he could see what appeared to be a house. The halogen headlights lit up the long grass in front of the car, and he felt as if he was driving through a sea of dry, yellow grass. The light was reflected back at him, making it difficult to see anything other than the dark outline of the house.
He soon reached a fence around a makeshift turning area. He stopped, switched off the engine, got out of the car and waited for his eyes to get used to the darkness. He stared at the house. It looked deserted; there didn’t appear to be any lights on.
He carefully climbed over the fence. The building looming up against the night sky was much clearer now. It was perhaps a hundred metres away. It was large, but not in any way inviting. The moonlight cast a bluish sheen over the roof tiles and the facade, and after a while he was able to make out the dark holes where the windows had been. He started to walk. He thought he could see the faint, flickering glow of candlelight; it was as if the blackness inside suddenly acquired an orange tone from time to time, and faint, almost imperceptible shadows flitted over the windowsills and walls. Now he knew he was in the right place.
He kept on walking.
The tall grass rustled with every step he took towards his fate.
If he was lucky he would be able to trade his life for hers.
If he was unlucky, both he and Vanja would reach the end of their lives tonight.
Vanja had managed to pull up the nightdress and arch her back enough to push her bound hands between her thighs and get hold of the spring. It was now hidden in her right hand again. She could saw at the nylon stocking only when Hinde was out of the room. And that didn’t happen often enough. He had gone out for a while to light candles, but otherwise he was there all the time. He seemed to be waiting for someone. It was as if the ritual, which had been so vital at the beginning, was now of secondary importance. He spent most of the time pacing back and forth, listening.
Vanja had the feeling she was no longer the main character. That she was lying there for a different reason. But it didn’t matter to her. She was aware of the sharpness of the spring against her palm as she waited for him to disappear again so that she could carry on. So far her efforts had produced no perceptible results. Her hands were bound just as tightly; they were also beginning to feel cold and numb because of the restricted flow of blood. What worried her most was that her muscles were growing more and more tired. The question was how long she would be able to carry on.
If only he would leave the room.
But he was still standing there. Completely motionless.
Sebastian peered in through the broken window next to the front door and found himself looking into what must once have been the kitchen. It was dirty, with graffiti all over the walls. Someone had ripped out the sink unit. An old wood-burning stove from the beginning of the last century was standing in the corner, illuminated by the moonlight. Sebastian was aware of the faint glow of candlelight, probably from the room next door. He listened intently, but heard nothing. He walked up to the door, which was ajar. Broken glass littered the ground in front of it. He straightened his back.
Time to announce his presence.
The door creaked loudly as he opened it and stepped into the dark, narrow hallway.
‘Edward, I’m here,’ he shouted, then stopped to wait for a reaction. Nothing. The house remained just as silent as before.
Obviously Hinde wasn’t ready to show himself yet.
Sebastian turned left and found himself in the kitchen he had seen
from outside. Half the floor had collapsed, and he had to walk around the black hole in the middle of the room. There was a stale, mouldy smell, and he headed for the flickering light from the room next door. It was large and impressive, and had probably been the dining room once upon a time. A large black mark on the pale wooden floor showed where a rug had once been, and the wallpaper had begun to sag and peel with age. It looked as if the wall had acquired arms and was reaching out to him. A single lighted candle sitting in its own wax was fixed to an old, ornate metal radiator. There were two doorways. Immediately in front of him lay another large room, forming a kind of suite with the one in which he was standing. To the right a corridor led further into the house. He could see another flickering light in that direction. Perhaps he was meant to follow the candles.
That was what he decided to do, at any rate.
She heard the voice. At first she couldn’t place it. Or rather, she couldn’t make sense of that voice in this context.
She turned to glance at Hinde and realised that her ears had not deceived her. His face was glowing with anticipation. This was the voice Hinde had been waiting for. For a long, long time.
He picked up the knife and slipped out of the room. She watched him go, forgetting for a second the sharp spring in her hand.
What was Sebastian doing here? Why had he called out to Hinde?
This couldn’t be true. Sebastian never did anything for anyone except himself. That was how he worked. She knew that.
And yet he was here.
Sebastian had finished exploring downstairs. It was empty apart from a few more candles and some old rubbish. He went back to the stairs, looked up into the darkness and listened. Called out again. ‘Hello there!’
Still no reply.
He set off up the stairs. When he was halfway he could see the glow of another candle. He was starting to tire of this game now. He called out again, even louder this time. ‘Edward, I know you’re here.’
He kept going. Some of the treads were rotten, and he had to step over them. When he reached the top he could see that he was at the beginning of a corridor. There were doors on either side, and one right at the end. They were all closed.
He opened the first door. The windows had been boarded up, so it was pitch-dark. He pushed the door all the way back to let in the small amount of light from the corridor, and walked in. It seemed to be empty, apart from an old desk in one corner. Nothing else.
He was about to leave the room when he heard a faint noise behind him in the darkness. He spun around, but it was too late. He felt Hinde’s breath on his face, and the knife pressing against his throat. He tried to relax, and allowed Hinde to push him up against the damp, smelly wall.
‘I’ve been waiting for this,’ Edward hissed.
He was so close that Sebastian could feel his excitement. He tried to remain calm. The knife was sharp. If Hinde pressed just a little harder, it would pierce his skin.
‘I’ve been waiting for you, but now it’s time to begin.’
Sebastian met Hinde’s gaze. His eyes were shining, in spite of the fact that there was so little light in the room.
She was alive. Vanja was still alive.
‘Let her go,’ he tried to say with as much conviction as possible. ‘This is between you and me.’
Hinde smiled at him. The look on his face said it all. A shake of the head merely confirmed Sebastian’s worst fears.
‘No. I want you to watch. After all, you enjoy studying me. I thought it would be nice for you to have a front-row seat.’
Sebastian fought to maintain his composure. ‘Let her go. Take me instead.’
‘Instead? Never. Both of you, perhaps.’
He suddenly turned Sebastian so that he was standing behind him instead, still holding the knife to his throat. He pushed Sebastian out into the corridor.
‘I’m in control now,’ he said.
In order to emphasise the point he forced the knife upwards, making it difficult for Sebastian to breathe. Bundled him along towards the end of the corridor. Closer and closer to the door. Sebastian realised that was where they were going. The room beyond that door was their goal.
Even though he knew it was utterly pointless, Sebastian couldn’t help himself.
He begged.
He couldn’t lose her.
‘Please, take me instead. Please.’
‘Very noble of you. But no doubt you have your reasons,’ came the reply.
They had reached the door. Hinde pushed it open with his free hand.
‘Here we are,’ he called out teasingly.
It took a second before Sebastian and Hinde realised the significance of what they were seeing.
The bed was empty. Torn nylon stockings lay in the spot where Vanja had been. Hinde was so surprised he loosened his grip on Sebastian, who reacted with lightning speed; he pushed the knife away and managed to break free.
He turned to Hinde, who was still lost for words.
‘Things not going according to plan?’
Disappointed and enraged, Hinde lashed out at him with the knife. Sebastian moved backwards towards the bed. Even though he knew he was in a very dangerous situation, he couldn’t help feeling a surge of joy. It looked as if Vanja had escaped. That was the important thing. He had been willing to give up his life for her when he walked into the house, and that was still the case.
Hinde made another sweeping movement with the knife, and Sebastian backed away towards the corner of the room. Soon he would have nowhere else to go. He searched frantically for something he could use to protect himself, but there was nothing. The longer he could hold out, the more of a head start Vanja would have. He tried to step over the bed, but stumbled and fell onto it. Hinde was there in a second, and although Sebastian kicked out at him, Hinde managed to stick the knife in his calf. The pain was agonising. Sebastian grabbed hold of the bedhead with both hands and tried to haul himself away from Hinde. He could see his own blood pouring from the wound in his leg.
Hinde stopped and quietly contemplated Sebastian, who was pulling himself into the corner with his leg dragging behind. He was suddenly happy to take his time.
‘Perhaps things haven’t quite gone according to plan. But at least I’ve got you.’ He began to move slowly towards Sebastian. The icy composure was back as he looked down at the bleeding man in the corner. He raised the knife.
Sebastian looked up at him. He had nowhere to go, and prepared himself for the inevitable.
He saw the blade of the knife flash through the air. Felt a terrible pain in his midriff. Hinde pulled out the knife and raised it again. He was aiming higher this time.
‘One stab for every year I’ve spent in Lövhaga, I think. Only twelve to go.’
Sebastian was beginning to lose consciousness, but fought to stay awake. He managed to spit out a response.
‘Vanja is safe,’ he said with a final smile. Hinde looked furious as he raised the knife again.
That was when Sebastian suddenly saw her. She flew across the room with something in her hand.
She was supposed to have run away. She wasn’t supposed to be here.
No.
Hinde became aware of the movement behind him at the last minute, and spun around. He saw the Taser in her hand and just managed to duck before she fired at him. He turned the knife around and delivered a heavy blow to her head with the handle. Vanja dropped the Taser and fell to the floor. Hinde threw himself at her. She fought back, but he struck her again. Then he stopped and looked down at her limp body. He smiled at Sebastian.
‘That’s what I call love. She came back.’
Sebastian began to crawl towards them with the final reserves of his strength. His shirt and trousers were covered in blood. He was dragging his leg through blood.
‘Don’t do it. Don’t.’
Hinde’s expression was one of pure satisfaction. ‘You must forgive me, but I’m going to move straight to the finale.’ He looked down at Vanja, grabbed hold of her hair
and pulled back her head, exposing her throat. ‘Watch carefully, Sebastian. This is the last thing you will ever see.’
Sebastian could no longer feel the pain. He felt nothing. He crawled and crawled, but it seemed as if he was moving only a millimetre at a time.
It would all be over at any second.
As Hinde raised the knife, a voice suddenly came from the doorway.
Sebastian thought it looked as if Billy was standing there.
Billy. What was he doing here?
He heard a shot and saw Hinde fall backwards.
Then everything went black.
Sebastian didn’t remember anything about the ambulance, his arrival at the hospital, or the operation. Not a thing. The first thing he became aware of, after seeing Hinde fall backwards, was opening his eyes as he came round. His wounds were extremely painful, and some overenthusiastic doctor was telling him how incredibly lucky he had been, before going into detail about the injuries he had actually sustained, and how much more serious the consequences could have been. Sebastian stopped listening.
He was alive and he was going to recover; that was all he needed to know.
They carried out the usual checks. Then Vanja and Torkel came in. Asked how he was feeling. Filled in the gaps between the stabbing and now.
‘Have you had to put up with a lot of crap?’ Sebastian asked Torkel, who looked exhausted. He probably hadn’t slept at all.
‘Not yet. But the day has only just begun.’
‘Sorry.’
‘I’ll survive.’ Torkel shrugged. ‘Vanja is fine, we’ve got Ralph Svensson and Roland Johansson, and Hinde is dead. You know how things work in the police service. The way you get there doesn’t really matter. It’s the result that counts.’
‘So you got Roland?’
‘Yes, in another stolen car on his way back to Gothenburg.’ Torkel paused; he seemed to be wondering whether to go on. ‘And you remember Trolle Hermansson?’ he said in a more subdued tone of voice.
Sebastian adjusted his position in the bed. He hadn’t expected Trolle’s name to come up. Not now. When it was all over. When he was safe. And Torkel sounded so serious.
The Disciple Page 51