The Sandman

164

Joona peers through the heavy snowfall, jumps over a concrete plinth and reaches the edge of the quay. Sludgy ice is floating in the black water, rattling against the hull. The smell of the sea is mixed with the diesel fumes from four caterpillar trucks.

Joona clambers on board and hurries along the railing, shoving a box of shackles out of the way and finding a shovel.

‘You there!’ a man behind him calls.

Joona rushes straight through a damp cardboard box, running along the edge, and sees that there’s a sledgehammer next to the railing, among the wrenches, lifting hooks and a rusty chain. He drops the shovel, grabs the sledgehammer instead and runs over to the red container. It’s big enough for four cars. He hits it with his hand, and the metal echoes back dully.

‘Disa,’ he shouts, as he hurries round it.

A heavy container lock is fastened to the double-doors. He swings the sledgehammer across the deck, then twists it back and round with incredible force. There’s a crash as the lock shatters. He drops the sledgehammer and opens the doors.

Disa isn’t there.

All he can see in the gloom are two BMW sports cars.

Joona doesn’t know what to do. He looks back towards the quayside, at the vast stacks of containers.

One of the terminal’s tractors is moving loose goods with its lights flashing.

Far in the distance Loudden’s oil tank is barely visible through the heavy snowfall.

Joona wipes his mouth and starts to walk back.

One mobile crane is lifting a number of containers onto a goods train, and at the end of the quay, more than three hundred metres away, an articulated lorry covered in filthy tarpaulin is driving on board a roll-on, roll-off ferry to St Petersburg.

On the ramp behind the lorry is another one, pulling a red ISO-container behind it.

On the side of the container are the words Hamburg Süd.

Joona tries to work out the quickest way to get there.

‘You’re not allowed up here,’ a man shouts behind him.

Joona turns and sees a thickset dock worker in a helmet, bright-yellow tunic and heavy gloves.

‘National Crime Police,’ Joona explains quickly. ‘I’m looking for—’

‘I don’t care who you are,’ the man interrupts, ‘you can’t just climb on board a—’

‘Call your boss and tell him that—’

‘You’re going to wait right here and explain everything to the security guards who are—’

‘I haven’t got time for this,’ Joona says, turning away.

The dock worker grabs hold of him by the shoulder. Out of reflex Joona swings round, wraps his own arm over the man’s and twists his elbow up.

It all happens very fast.

The dock worker is forced to lean back because of the pain in his shoulder, and Joona kicks his feet out from under him at the same moment, and he starts to fall.

Instead of breaking the dock worker’s arm, Joona lets go and allows him to collapse onto the deck.

The large crane rumbles and everything suddenly goes dark when the glare of the floodlights is obscured by the cargo dangling from the crane, directly above him.

Joona picks up the sledgehammer and starts to walk away quickly, but a younger dock-worker in high-visibility clothing is standing in his way, holding a large wrench in his hand.

‘Be very careful,’ Joona says ominously.

‘You need to wait until the security guards get here,’ the dock worker tells him. There’s a worried look in his eyes.

Joona shoves him in the chest with one hand to force his way past. The dock worker takes a step back, then strikes out with the wrench. Joona blocks the blow with his arm, but it still hits him on the shoulder. He groans with pain and lets go of the sledgehammer. It falls to the deck with a clang. Joona grabs the back of the man’s helmet and pulls it down, then hits him hard over the ear, making him sink to his knees and howl with pain.