The killer's art

80

Johan was taken straight to Visby Hospital, where he was given a sedative until he could speak to a psychologist. The nurse had left his room, assuring him that she’d be back soon. In the meantime, Johan should lie down and take it easy. He felt empty and numb, as if he wasn’t really there. When the door opened again, it wasn’t the nurse who came in. Instead, he saw Emma’s face in the doorway.

‘Hi,’ he said, attempting to smile. Her expression was stony, her face swollen, and it looked as if all her features were in the wrong place: her eyes on her chin, her nose on her left temple. She had no mouth at all. Just a dry hole.

Emma didn’t respond to his greeting. She stood some distance away from the bed, staring at him with disgust.

‘You didn’t tell me about that photograph of you in the news office,’ she snarled. ‘You were tailing a man you assumed was a murderer, just because you thought it would be fun, without giving the least thought to us — me and Elin — or our safety. And now she’s gone. My Elin, my beloved Elin is gone, and it’s your fault. Your fucking fault. If you hadn’t been doing what you did, this wouldn’t have happened.’

Johan was shocked by this unexpected attack, and he tried to protest.

‘But Emma…’ he said weakly.

‘Shut up.’

She crept closer. Stood leaning over him, staring angrily into his eyes.

‘He came into my house, my house. When I was taking a shower, he was creeping around. He took my daughter and disappeared. Now all we can do is hope that the police get him to say what he’s done with her, and that my Elin isn’t dead. That she’s still alive.’

‘Yes, but-’

‘She’s eight months old, Johan. Eight months old! ’

She tore off her engagement ring and threw it at him.

‘I will never forgive you for this!’ she screamed.

She left the room, slamming the door behind her with all her might.

Johan sat there in the hospital bed, anaesthetized, annihilated, incapable of taking in even a fraction of what had just happened.

It was horrible, just too horrible.