The Rabbit Hunter

85

Rex gets off the underground at Mariatorget, and is walking along Sankt Pauls Street when his phone buzzes to let him know he’s received a new voicemail. It’s from Janus Mickelsen, telling him he’s organised a secure safe-house for Rex and Sammy, with reinforced glass, a steel door, alarm and a direct line to the emergency control room.

‘I understand that you can’t speak freely if you feel threatened. I get it, I really do. This is a good solution, short-term. My boss has given the go-ahead and I’d like you to meet me tonight at 19.00 just outside Knivsta, at a safe-house belonging to the Security Police, so we can talk through the situation,’ Janus says, then repeats the full address twice before the message ends.

Rex decides to go and find out more about this threat the Security Police seem to be taking so seriously.

He walks through the glass door of 34 Krukmakar Street, where the Pool Hall has its rundown basement premises, thinking that there appears to be a tug-of-war between the Security Police and the National Operative Unit.

He passes the bar and goes downstairs, making his way between the tables.

The only sound is clicking as balls knock together and roll silently across the felt table.

At the end of the room is one pool table that’s bigger than the others. Beside it stands a tall man with unruly blond hair and eyes as grey as driftwood.

‘The yellow ball is called the Kaisa,’ Joona says.

The Finnish pool game, Kaisa, is like Russian Pyramid. It requires a larger table, bigger balls and longer cues. You can play Kaisa in teams, but usually it’s a duel between two players.

Rex listens as the taller man runs through the rules and hands him a long cue.

‘Sounds a bit like snooker,’ Rex says.

‘First to sixty wins.’

‘Is this why I’m here?’

Joona doesn’t answer, just sets the balls out in their positions. If Rex isn’t involved in the murders, then he’s probably one of the intended victims. The murders appear to revolve around the rape, but there’s something more to it than that, maybe further parties, an unknown participant, Joona thinks.

‘If you beat me you can leave, but if you lose I’ll arrest you,’ he says, shooting a sharp glance at Rex.

‘Sure,’ Rex smiles, running his hands through his unkempt hair.

‘I mean it,’ Joona says seriously. ‘You had a strong motive for the Foreign Minister’s murder.’

‘Did I?’

Joona hits his white cue-ball, and there’s a loud click as it strikes the yellow ball and sends it rolling across the table, where it hits the cushion, rebounds and disappears into one of the pockets.

‘Six points to me,’ Joona explains.

Rex looks at him uncomprehendingly.

‘I had a motive because I pissed in the Foreign Minister’s swimming pool?’

‘You said he was a bastard and that he stole your girlfriend in high school.’

‘Yes,’ Rex concedes.

‘But you didn’t mention you were locked up all night.’

‘There were three of them,’ he says reluctantly. ‘They gave me a beating and then locked me up — not great, but no reason to—’

‘Why did they do it?’ Joona interrupts.

‘What?’

‘Lock you up.’

‘So that Wille could see Grace without being disturbed, I assume.’

‘And did he?’

‘He always got what he wanted,’ Rex mutters, chalking his cue.

‘Aim for the Kaisa,’ Joona says, pointing at the yellow ball. ‘She needs to go into this pocket.’

Rex leans forward and takes the shot, but ends up hitting one of the reds, which rolls into the other red.

‘And that’s a kiss,’ Joona says. ‘No points for that.’

Rex shakes his head with a smile as Joona steps up and hits the Kaisa straight into the corner pocket.

‘What does Grace say?’ Joona says as he continues with his turn.

‘About what?’

‘About the evening you were locked up,’ he replies, taking another shot and potting Rex’s white cue-ball in the same pocket.

‘I don’t know. I never saw her again,’ Rex says. ‘I left the school and she never answered my letters or phone calls.’

‘I’m talking about now, though,’ Joona says.

‘I heard she moved back to Chicago, but I haven’t seen her for thirty years.’

‘You’ve been accused of murdering the Foreign Minister,’ Joona says.

‘Who’d accuse me of that?’ Rex manages to say.

‘You’re in serious trouble here,’ Joona says, backing away from the table.

‘I’ve done lots of stupid things,’ Rex tries to explain as he adjusts the position of his cue. ‘But I haven’t killed anyone.’

His shot misses. The white cue-ball rolls past the Kaisa, hits the cushion and bounces off.

‘If you’re not involved in the murders, then you could be on the list of future victims.’

‘Am I going to get protection?’

‘If you can explain why,’ Joona says.

‘I have no idea,’ Rex says, wiping his forehead.

‘Revenge?’ the detective suggests, taking his shot.

‘That’s not very likely.’

Joona gives him a sideways glance, then takes another shot.

‘It depends on what you’ve done,’ he says.

‘Nothing,’ Rex protests. ‘What the hell, I get under people’s skin, maybe I sleep with women I shouldn’t, say stupid stuff, and no doubt there are plenty of people who’d like to take a swing at me, but—’

‘Forty-one,’ Joona says, then straightens up and looks at him seriously.

‘I don’t know what to say,’ Rex says.

‘So you’ve done lots of stupid things,’ Joona reminds him.

‘I pissed in the Foreign Minister’s pool, but I—’

‘You already said that,’ Joona interrupts.

‘I’ve done it more than once,’ Rex confesses, suddenly blushing.

‘I don’t care where you’ve pissed.’

‘A hundred times, maybe,’ he says, with a peculiar intensity in his voice.

‘Get a different hobby.’

‘I will, of course I will. What I’m trying to say is that I saw something once when I was there.’

Joona leans over and takes another shot, to prevent Rex from seeing the satisfied smile on his face. The balls click together, and one of them hits the cushion and rebounds into a pocket.

‘Forty-nine,’ Joona says, slowly chalking the end of his cue.

‘Listen,’ Rex goes on. ‘I’m a sober alcoholic these days, but before things changed, before I started to take it seriously, I used to go there a lot... Sometimes I threw those hideous garden gnomes of his in the water, sometimes terracotta pots and garden furniture. I mean, he must have known about it, and just didn’t care, unless he thought it was fair payback.’

‘You thought you saw something?’ Joona prompts, as he moves around the table checking the angles.

‘I know I saw something, even if I was drunk... I don’t remember when, but I still know what I saw...’

He falls silent and shakes his head sadly.

‘You can think what you like,’ he says in a low voice, ‘but I saw someone in a mask with a weird, bulging face... inside the Foreign Minister’s house.’

‘How long ago?’

‘Four months, maybe? I’m not really sure.’

‘What were you doing earlier that day?’

‘No idea.’

‘Where did you get drunk?’

‘Just like Jack Kerouac, I try to do my drinking at home, to limit the damage, but it doesn’t always work out.’

Joona takes another shot, the balls click and the Kaisa disappears into the corner pocket.

‘Which month was it?’

He knocks Rex’s cue-ball into the same pocket, simultaneously hitting a red ball, which rolls diagonally across the table and down into the opposite pocket.

‘Don’t know,’ Rex says.

‘Fifty-nine points,’ Joona says. ‘What did you do afterwards?’

‘Afterwards?’ Rex says, trying to remember. ‘Oh, yeah... I went to Sylvia’s, she never sleeps, and tried to tell her what I’d seen. It seemed like a really smart idea at the time, but...’

‘And what did she think?’ Joona asks, holding back on his final shot.

‘I didn’t say anything,’ he says, sounding frustrated.

‘You went to see Sylvia... and said nothing?’

‘We had sex,’ he mutters.

‘Do you usually see Sylvia when you’re drunk?’ Joona asks.

‘I hope not,’ Rex says, leaning his cue against the wall.

‘We can stop playing. We can even agree to a tie,’ Joona says. ‘If you call Sylvia and ask what date it was.’

‘No chance.’

‘OK.’

Joona leans across the table with his cue.

‘Hold on,’ Rex says quickly. ‘You were joking about arresting me, right?’

Joona straightens up, turns towards him and looks him in the eye with a completely neutral expression.

Rex runs his hand through his hair and takes out his iPhone, puts his glasses on and looks for Sylvia among his contacts. He walks off towards the bar as he makes the call.

‘Sylvia Lund,’ she says when she answers.

‘Hi, it’s me, Rex.’

‘Hello, Rex,’ she says in a measured tone of voice.

He makes an effort to keep his voice friendly and stress-free.

‘How are you?’

‘Are you drunk?’

Rex looks at the tired-looking man behind the bar.

‘No, I’m not drunk, but—’

‘You sound strange,’ she interrupts.

Rex walks a little way up the ramp towards the street in order to talk in peace.

‘I need to ask you something,’ he says.

‘Can we do this tomorrow? I’m kind of busy,’ she says impatiently.

Her voice fades as she turns to say something to someone else.

‘But I just need—’

‘Rex, my daughter’s been invited to—’

‘Listen, I just need to know what day I came to see you that night, and—’

The line goes dead as Sylvia hangs up on him.

Rex looks out at the street and sees a balloon floating between the cars. He can feel his hands shaking as he calls her again.

‘What the hell do you think you’re playing at?’ Sylvia asks angrily.

‘I just need to know when it was,’ he persists.

‘It’s over,’ she says. ‘I want you to stop—’

‘Shut up.’

‘You’re drunk, I knew it—’

‘Sylvia, if you don’t tell me, I’m going to call your husband and ask when was the last time he got home from a trip and you were nicer than usual to him.’

There’s complete silence on the line. Sweat trickles down his back.

‘The last day of April,’ she says, and ends the call.