The Fire Witness

67

There’s a vibration at the dam. Watertight body bags are folded neatly on top of a plastic tub with attached signal buoys to mark the position of any discoveries.

“I’ll start by the power station and take the area in squares,” Hasse says.

“No, let’s start where the dog reacted,” Joona says.

“Are we going to let the ladies tell us what to do now?” Hasse complains.

Deep below the turbulent surface of the water are the openings of the gates, with heavy grates to catch everything brought downstream by the river. The diver checks his air hose, connects the cable from the camera to the laptop, and then puts on his mask. Joona can see himself on the computer screen.

“Wave to the camera,” Hasse says, and then he puts in his mouthpiece and slides into the water.

“If the current is too strong, we’ll call it off,” Joona says.

“Be careful,” says Gunnarsson.

“I’m used to diving in heavy current,” Hasse says. “But if I don’t come up again, tell my boy that I should have gone with him instead.”

“Let’s have a beer at Hotel Laxen when you’re through,” Gunnarsson says, and waves.

Hasse Boman disappears beneath the surface, which bubbles, then grows calm again. Gunnarsson smiles and flicks his cigarette into the water. The only thing they can see on the computer screen is the rough surface of the concrete as it slips past the camera. They can hear Hasse’s deep breathing in the speaker. On the river, bubbles from his exhalation break the surface.

“How far down are you now?” asks Joona.

“Just thirty feet.”

“How hard is the current?”

“It’s like someone pulling at my legs.”

Joona keeps watching the diver’s plunge on the computer screen. The concrete wall slides past. The diver’s breathing sounds heavier. Sometimes they catch glimpses of his hands against the wall. His blue gloves shine in the camera’s light.

“There’s nothing down there,” Gunnarsson says, and begins to pace back and forth.

“The dog sensed-”

“But it didn’t mark the spot properly.” Gunnarsson raises his voice.

“No, but she sensed something,” Joona replies stubbornly.

He thinks how the bodies could have traveled with the water, tumbling over the riverbed, getting closer to the midstream current.

“Fifty feet. The current’s pretty strong here,” the diver says.

Gunnarsson is letting the lifeline out now. It’s moving swiftly over the metal railing and disappearing below the surface.

“You’re going too fast,” Joona says. “Fill your vests.”

The diver begins to fill his vests with air from his cylinders. Usually this is done only when it’s time to return to the surface, but the diver knows that Joona is right-he has to slow down because of all the flotsam in the water.

“I’m fine,” he says after a moment.

“If you can, I’d like it if you can take a look at the nearest grate,” Joona says.

Hasse moves slowly and then is caught in the current, which has sped up, as if the sluice gates have been opened wider. Garbage, twigs, and leaves rush past his face and head straight down.

Gunnarsson shifts the lifeline and cable as a log approaches and crashes into the dam.