The Sandman

104

Joona Linna is in one of the large offices in the headquarters of National Crime, along with part of the investigating team. The walls are covered with maps, photographs and printouts of the tip-offs that are currently being prioritised. On a large-scale map of Lill-Jan’s Forest, the sites of the various finds are clearly marked.

With a yellow pen, Joona traces the railway line from the harbour through the forest, then turns to the group.

‘One of the things Jurek Walter used to work on was train gearboxes,’ he says. ‘It’s possible that the victims were buried in Lill-Jan’s Forest because of this railway line.’

‘Like Ángel Reséndiz,’ Benny Rubin says, smiling for no reason.

‘So why the hell don’t we just go in and interrogate Jurek Walter?’ Petter Näslund demands, far too loudly.

‘It wouldn’t work,’ Joona says patiently.

‘Petter, I presume you’ve read the psychiatric report?’ Magdalena Ronander says. ‘Is there really any point interrogating someone who’s both schizophrenic and psychotic, and who—’

‘We’ve got eighteen thousand kilometres of railway lines in Sweden,’ he interrupts. ‘We might as well get digging.’

‘Sit on my Facebook,’ Benny mutters.

Joona can’t help thinking that Petter Näslund has a point. Jurek Walter is the only person who can lead them to Felicia before it’s too late. They’re checking every single line of inquiry from the old preliminary investigation, they are looking into all the tip-offs that have come in, but they’re still not making any progress. Saga Bauer is their only real hope. Yesterday she beat up another patient and Jurek Walter got the blame. That isn’t necessarily a bad thing, Joona thinks. It might even help bring them together.

It’s getting dark outside, and sparse snowflakes hit Joona’s face as he gets out of the car and hurries in to Södermalm Hospital. He finds out from the reception desk that Irma Goodwin is doing an extra shift in the emergency room. He spots her as soon as he walks in. The door to one of the examination rooms is open. A woman with a split lip and bleeding wound on her chin is sitting quietly while Irma Goodwin talks to her.

There’s a smell of damp wool and the floor is damp with slush. A construction worker is sitting on one of the benches with one foot in a steamed-up plastic bag.

Joona waits until Irma Goodwin emerges from the room, then walks with her along the corridor towards another treatment room.

‘This is the third time she’s been here in as many months,’ Irma says.

‘You should refer her to a women’s refuge,’ Joona says.

‘I already have. But what good will that do?’

‘It does help,’ Joona insists.

‘What can I do for you, then?’ she asks, stopping outside the door.

‘I need to know about the progression of Legionnaires’ disease for—’

‘He’s going to be fine,’ she interrupts, opening the door.

‘Yes, but what if he hadn’t been treated?’ Joona says.

‘How do you mean?’ she asks, looking into his grey eyes.

‘We’re trying to find his sister,’ Joona says. ‘And it seems likely that she was infected at the same time as Mikael...’

‘In that case it’s serious,’ Irma says.

‘How serious?’

‘Without treatment... obviously it depends on her general condition, but she’s probably got a high fever by now.’

‘And then what?’

‘She’ll be coughing already, and having trouble breathing... it’s impossible to say with any degree of accuracy, but by the end of the week I’d say she’ll be at risk of brain damage and... well, you know that Legionnaires’ disease can be fatal.’