Lars Kepler - The Nightmare

The second book in the Detective Inspector Joona Linna series, 2012

Copyright 2010 by Lars Kepler

Translation copyright 2012 by Laura A. Wideburg

The word music comes from the art of the muses and reflects the Greek myth of the Nine Muses. All nine were daughters of the powerful god Zeus and the titan Mnemosyne, goddess of memory. Euterpe, the muse of music, is often portrayed holding a double flute to her lips. Her name means Giver of Joy.

The gift of musicality does not have a generally agreed-upon definition. There are people who lack the ability to hear differing frequencies in music while, on the other hand, there are people born with an exact memory for music and perfect pitch so they can reproduce a specific tone without any external reference.

Throughout the ages, a number of exceptional musical geniuses have emerged, some of whom have achieved lasting fame-Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart, who began to tour the courts of Europe at the age of six; Ludwig van Beethoven, who wrote many of his masterpieces after becoming totally deaf.

The legendary Niccol Paganini was born in 1782 in the Italian city of Genoa. He was a self-taught violinist and composer. To this day, very few violinists have been able to perform Paganinis swift, complicated works. Until his death, Paganini was plagued by rumors that to gain his musical virtuosity hed signed a contract with the Devil.

In the light of the long June night, on becalmed waters, a large pleasure craft is discovered adrift on Jungfrufjrden Bay in the southern Stockholm archipelago. The water, a sleepy blue-gray in color, moves as softly as the fog. The old man rowing in his wooden skiff calls out a few times, even though hes starting to suspect no one is going to answer. Hes been watching the yacht from shore for almost an hour as its been drifting backward, pushed by the lazy current away from land.

The man guides his boat until it bumps against the larger craft. Pulling in his oars and tying up to the swimming platform, he climbs the metal ladder and over the railing. Theres nothing to see on the afterdeck except for a pink recliner. The old man stands still and listens. Hearing nothing, he opens the glass door and steps down into the salon. A gray light shines through the large windows over the varnished teak brightwork and a deep blue cloth canvas settee. He continues down the steep stairs, which are paneled in more shining wood. Past a dark galley, past a bathroom, into the large cabin. Tiny windows near the ceiling offer barely enough light to reveal an arrow-shaped double berth. Near the headboard a young woman in a jean jacket sits slumped at the edge of the bed. Her thighs are spread; one hand rests on a pink pillow. She looks right into the old mans eyes with a puzzled, frightened expression.

The old man needs a moment to realize the woman is dead.

Fastened to her long black hair is a clasp shaped in the form of a white dove: the dove of peace.

As the old man moves toward her and touches her cheek, her head falls forward and a thin stream of water dribbles from her lips and on down to her chin.

A cold shiver runs down Penelope Fernandezs spine. Her heart beats faster and she darts a look over her shoulder. Perhaps she feels a sense of foreboding of whats to come as her day progresses.

In spite of the television studios heat, Penelopes face feels chilled. Maybe the sensation is left over from her time in makeup when the cold powder puff was pressed to her skin and the peace-dove hair clip was taken out so they could rub in the mousse that would make her hair fall in serpentine locks.

Penelope Fernandez is the spokesperson for the Swedish Peace and Reconciliation Society. Silently, she is being ushered into the newsroom and to her spotlighted seat across from Pontus Salman, CEO of the armaments manufacturer Silencia Defense AB. The news anchor Stefanie von Sydow is narrating a report on all the layoffs resulting from the purchase of the Bofors Corporation by British BAE Systems Limited. Then she turns to Penelope.

Penelope Fernandez, in several public debates you have been critical of the management of Swedish arms exports. In fact, you recently compared it to the French Angola-gate scandal. There, highly placed politicians and businessmen were prosecuted for bribery and weapons smuggling and given long prison sentences. But here in Sweden? We really havent seen this, have we?

Well, you can interpret this in two ways, replies Penelope. Either our politicians behave differently or our justice system works differently.

You know very well, begins Pontus Salman, that we have a long tradition of-

According to Swedish law, Penelope says, all manufacture and export of armaments are illegal.

Youre wrong, of course, says Salman.

Paragraphs 3 and 6 of the Military Equipment Act, Penelope points out with precision.

We at Silencia Defense have already gotten a positive preliminary decision. Salman smiles.

Otherwise this would be a case of major weapons crimes and-

But, we do have permission.

Dont forget the rationale for armaments-

Just a moment, Penelope. Stefanie von Sydow stops her and nods to Pontus Salman, whos lifted his hand to signal that he wasnt finished.

All business transactions are reviewed in advance, he explains. Either directly by the government or by the National Inspectorate of Strategic Products, if you know what that is.

France has similar regulations, says Penelope. And yet military equipment worth eight million Swedish crowns landed in Angola despite the UN weapons embargo and in spite of a completely binding prohibition-

Were not talking about France, were talking about Sweden.

I know that people want to keep their jobs, but I still would like to hear how you can explain the export of enormous amounts of ammunition to Kenya? Its a country that-

You have no proof, he says. Nothing. Not one shred. Or do you?

Unfortunately, I cannot-

You have no concrete evidence? asks Stefanie von Sydow.

No, but I-

Then I think Im owed an apology, says Pontus Salman.

Penelope stares him in the eyes, her anger and frustration boiling up, but she tamps it down, stays silent. Pontus Salman smiles smugly and begins to talk about Silencia Defenses factory in Trollhttan. Two hundred new jobs were created when they were given permission to start production, he says. He speaks slowly and in elaborate detail, deftly truncating the time left for his opponent.

As Penelope listens, she forces aside her anger by focusing on other matters. Soon, very soon, she and Bjrn will board his boat. Theyll make up the arrow-shaped bed in the forecabin and fill the refrigerator and tiny freezer with treats. She conjures up the frosted schnapps glasses, and the platter of marinated herring, mustard herring, soused herring, fresh potatoes, boiled eggs, and hardtack. After they anchor at a tiny island in the archipelago, theyll set the table on the afterdeck and sit there eating in the evening sun for hours.

Penelope Fernandez walks out of the Swedish Television building and heads toward Valhallavgen. She wasted two hours waiting for a slot in another morning program before the producer finally told her shed been bumped by a segment on quick tips for a summer tummy. Far away, on the fields of Grdet, she can make out the colorful tents of Circus Maximus and the little forms of two elephants, probably very large. One raises his trunk high in the air.

Penelope is only twenty-four years old. She has curly black hair cut to her shoulders, and a tiny crucifix, a confirmation present, glitters from a silver chain around her neck. Her skin is the soft golden color of virgin olive oil or honey, as a boy in high school said during a project where the students were supposed to describe one another. Her eyes are large and serious. More than once, shes heard herself described as looking like Sophia Loren.