The gun!
They threw themselves to the floor the very same moment but she was a fraction quicker to get her hand on the magazine. He tried to pull it out of her grip. He hit her on her side with his elbow so that she’d release her hold. But she retained her clamp-like grasp on the gun. He hit her again, but she clenched her teeth and put all her force behind a single blow. The muscles in her back were tensed, in her shoulders too, and she hit back as hard as she could. Her hand found its way in between his ribs, and he suddenly dropped down onto his knees, gasping for breath.
She held the gun against him. He looked down at the floor. His breathing became all the heavier and then turned into sobbing. After a brief moment she realized he was crying.
“Don’t kill me,” he said. “Don’t kill me. Nobody was to know... I should never have done it.”
He looked up at her.
“I should never have done it.” He lowered his head again and sniffled loudly.
“Please, don’t kill me. It wasn’t me that hurt them. I just drove them to where they were going. They were ordinary transports. To their missions.”
Jana furrowed her brow.
“What did you transport?”
“The children.”
Anders hid his face in his hands. He sobbed loudly.
She lowered the pistol.
“Which children?”
“The children... I fetched them when they were...ready. And when they had carried out their missions then I...took them back again. Then I saw the grave. I saw...they stood there...”
She stared at him, thought she had heard wrong.
“I didn’t do anything. I just transported them to where they were going. To the training and then back from there. But it wasn’t me who killed them.”
Jana was speechless. She looked at the man kneeling in front of her. They looked at each other. His eyes were red. Saliva was dripping from the corners of his mouth onto his bleached sweater.
“I didn’t kill them. Not me. It wasn’t me, I didn’t do anything. I promise, I just drove the van. Nothing happened, I just drove, and they didn’t know anything anyway.”
“I don’t understand,” she said.
“They must die. All of them. Him too...”
“Who? You mean...?”
“They’ve got their own names... Thanatos...” Anders whispered. “He was really special. He was really...”
Anders started to shake.
“It wasn’t meant to be like that. I didn’t know. He ran.”
“Was it you who killed the boy, was it you who killed Thanatos?”
“I had no choice. He tried to escape from the boat.”
“The boat?”
Anders became quiet.
He looked at a point far in front of him. Blinking.
“The boat...”
“Which boat?”
“The boat! He tried to escape! I had to stop him. He had to go back to the island, but he ran.”
“What’s the island called?”
“He didn’t want to die.”
“Tell me what the island’s called!”
“It hasn’t got a name.”
“Where is it? Tell me where it is!”
Anders went quiet, as if he suddenly became aware of the situation he was now in.
“Near Gr?ns? Island.”
“Are there children out there now?”
He shook his head slowly.
“Who are you working for?”
He looked up at Jana again.
“I’ve told you too much,” he said.
“Who are you working for? Give me a name!”
Anders opened his eyes wide.
Tensed himself.
And then he cast himself against Jana. Tried to knock the pistol out of her hands.
She was caught by surprise but kept her hold.
He put his hand on the pistol and pulled hard, put all his weight onto her arms and roared loudly.
Jana’s index finger was pressed hard against the trigger guard. The pain was intense. She concentrated all her strength; she mustn’t lose her grip. Her arm trembled. The adrenaline was pumping. She struggled as hard as she could. But she couldn’t keep it up. Her finger was stuck. It felt as if it would break off.
He pushed up again and her index finger was forced up in a U-shaped arch.
She had to let go.
When the bone cracked she let go.
Anders got hold of the pistol and immediately pointed it at her. He took small, short steps backward. “It’s all over now. I know it is.”
He was sweating, his hands trembled, his eyes were darting here and there.
“I’m already dead. It’s over. He is going to come. I know he will. It’s over.”
Anders raised the pistol.
Jana realized what was about to happen.
“It isn’t over. Wait,” she said.
“It’s over now. That’s just as well,” said Anders and put the barrel in his mouth and pulled the trigger.
*
Torsten Granath lay on a leather sofa outside his office at the Prosecution Department. He looked up when Jana Berzelius came walking along the corridor.
“What’s happened to you?” he said and nodded toward the plaster on her forehead.
“It’s nothing. Just a graze. I fell when I was out running,” she lied.
“You strained your finger too?”
She nodded and looked at her index finger. It wasn’t very painful but it swelled a lot.
“It’s still very slippery at some places.” Torsten sighed and stretched out at full length again.
“Yes.”
“Ice isn’t good. You’ve got to think about your hip joints. Especially at my age. I’m thinking about buying those studs you can put on the soles of your shoes. You ought to get some. For when you’re out running, I mean.”
“No.”
“No. I know. They are actually rather silly.”
“Why are you lying here?”
“My back, you know. It’s only problems with old men. Time to take it a bit easy.”
“That’s what you usually say.”
“I know.”
Torsten pushed himself up into a sitting position. He gave Jana a serious look.
“How are you getting on with the investigation? I’ve got a feeling it was wrong to let you take care of this,” he said.
“It’s going fine,” she said briefly.
“Have you charged anybody?”
“Yes. For the death of Thomas Rydberg. But our suspicions about the perpetrator Lena Wikstr?m are based on assumptions and a few witness statements. She hasn’t confessed to the murder of Rydberg yet. As the prosecutor I’m concerned about actually making the charges stick and being able to prove anything.”
“And then you’ve got Juhlén, the boy and the containers. How many murders are we actually dealing with here?”
“It’s unclear. We haven’t counted all the victims yet. The state of decomposure of the bodies is making it difficult.”
“So there will probably be dreadful statistics in other words?”
“Yes.”
“Oh heavens above. An enormous murder case to unravel, involving multiple victims, perhaps the largest ever in this country...”
Torsten got up and rolled his shoulders to release some tension.
“Gunnar ?hrn isn’t entirely convinced that you’re on the right track as far as Lena is concerned.”
“He isn’t?”
“No, he thinks she’s keeping back some important information, but not that she is the brains behind this horrible business.”
“Has he said that?”
Torsten nodded.
“And he thinks you’re a bit too silent to be the investigating prosecutor,” he said.
“Oh, indeed?”
“Yes, it might be a good idea to take the lead a bit more.”
Jana gritted her teeth.
“Okay.”
“Don’t take it so personally.”
“No, it’s all right.”
“Good.”
He patted her on the shoulder before moving along to his office on his stiff legs.
She disappeared immediately into her own office and closed the door behind her. She would have to have a talk with Gunnar!
*
Gunnar ?hrn leaned back in his office chair and rubbed his eyes. The press conference was over and the reporters had asked an overwhelming number of questions about the salvage work. But the press officer, Sara Arvidsson, had only revealed that the police didn’t want to comment on anything specific. It was only a question of time before the media fathomed the extent of the crimes and got hold of the pictures of all the dead bodies found in the containers. Then it would no longer be possible to answer as evasively. He had a strange feeling that he was being observed, and he twisted round on his chair.