The Nightmare Read Online Free PDF Page B

diagonally.”
    Pollock says nothing, just walks over to the leather briefcase and gets on his knees beside it. His silver ponytail falls forward as he leans down to put the briefcase on its edge. Obvious light gray marks are clearly visible on the black leather.
    “So it’s so, then,” Joona remarks quietly.
    “Fucking awesome,” Tommy Kofoed says, and his whole tired face smiles up at Joona.
    “Suicide,” Pollock mutters.
    “Technically speaking, yes,” Joona says.
    They stand looking at the body for a while.
    “What do we really have here?” asks Kofoed. He’s still smiling. “Someone high up, with a job deciding who can export military equipment, who decides now to take his own life.”
    “Not our department,” sighs Pollock.
    Tommy Kofoed rolls off his gloves and gestures at the hanging man.
    “Joona? What’s the deal with the knots and the music?” he asks.
    “It’s a double sheet bend,” Joona says and points to the knots around the lamp hook. “I connect it to Palmcrona’s long naval career.”
    “And the music?”
    Joona stops and looks at him meditatively.
    “What do you think?” he asks.
    “Well, I know it’s a sonata for violin. Early nineteenth century or—”
    He is interrupted by the doorbell. The four of them glance at one another. Joona starts to walk back to the hallway and the rest follow but stop before they can be seen from the landing.
    At the front door, Joona considers a quick view through the peephole but decides against it. He can feel air stream through the keyhole as he presses down the door handle. The heavy door swings open. The landing is dark. Joona’s hand goes for his pistol as he checks behind the open door. A tall woman is caught in a faint gap of light by the handrail. She has huge hands. She’s probably about sixty-five years old. She’s completely still. Her gray hair is cut in a short, girlish pageboy style, and there’s a large, skin-colored bandage on her chin. She looks Joona right in the eye without a hint of a smile.
    “So have you cut him down yet?” she asks.

 
    7
    helpful people
    Joona had thought he’d have time to make the National Criminal Investigation Department meeting at one o’clock.
    But he’d wanted to have lunch with Disa first. They were to meet at Rosendal’s Garden on Djurgården. Joona arrived early and had to wait for a while in the sunshine. He idly watched the mist hovering over the small vineyard. Then he saw Disa coming, her cloth purse slung over her shoulder. Her narrow, intelligent face was closely sprinkled with late-spring freckles and her hair flowed free over her shoulders, loosed from its customary tight braids. She’d prettied up in a dress patterned in small flowers; on her feet were sandals with wedge heels.
    Carefully they hugged each other.
    “Hi,” Joona said. “You look great.”
    “You, too,” said Disa.
    Together they went to the buffet to choose their food and then sat down at an outdoor table. Joona noticed that her nails wore a new coat of polish. Usually they were short and ragged, embedded with the dirt Disa picked up in her work as an archaeologist. Joona’s gaze wandered away from her hands and out over the orchard.
    “Queen Kristina received a leopard as a present from the Count of Kurland. She kept it here at Djurgården.”
    “I didn’t know that,” Joona said absentmindedly.
    “I read in the palace accounts that the Royal Treasury paid forty daler in silver coins, the cost of a serving girl’s funeral. She was ripped apart by that leopard.”
    Disa leaned back in her chair and picked up her glass.
    “Stop talking so much, Joona Linna,” she said.
    “Sorry,” Joona said. “I just…”
    He fell silent again, suddenly exhausted.
    “What’s up?” She was suddenly concerned.
    “Please, just tell me more about the leopard.”
    “You look so sad.”
    “I was thinking about my mother … It’s been one year today since she passed away. I went to lay a wreath at her