Who would keep a photograph of ones mother in a book on racial biology? Joona wonders to himself as he turns the photograph over.
On the backside of the photo, someone has written a line: Dont go far off, not even for a day. Its in pencil.
Joona takes out Nerudas poetry collection again. He flips through it until he finds the entire verse:
No estes lejos de mi un solo dia, porque como, porque, no se decirlo, es largo el dia, y te estare esperando como en las estaciones cuando en alguna parte se durmieron los trenes.
The photograph should have been in the Neruda collection.
If the killer had been looking through the books, this photo could have fallen out.
He was standing right here, Joona thought. He was looking at the dust in front of the books just as I am doing now and he was quickly flipping through the ones pulled out the past few weeks. He notices a photograph has fallen out of one of the books and is on the floor. He automatically picks it up and sticks it back, but into the wrong book.
Joona closes his eyes.
Thats what happened, he thinks. The hit man was looking through the books.
If he knows what hes looking for, then the object must be small enough to be hidden between the pages of a book.
What could it be?
A letter? A will? A photograph? A confession? Maybe it was a CD or a memory stick or a SIM card?
25
Joona leaves the living room and peeks into the bathroom, now in the process of being photographed in minute detail. He continues along the hallway and out the door of the apartment. He stops in front of the tight grillwork that covers the elevator shaft.
Theres a nameplate on the apartment door next to the elevator. Nilsson. Joona knocks and waits. Finally, he hears footsteps from inside. A plump woman of around sixty opens the door a crack and looks out.
Well?
Hello, Im Joona Linna, a detective inspector, and I-
But I told you before, I didnt see his face.
Have the police already visited you? I didnt know that.
She opens the door wider and two cats hop down from the telephone table to disappear deeper in the apartment.
He was wearing a Dracula mask, the woman says impatiently, as if shes said this a number of times before.
Who?
Who? the woman repeats, muttering, and goes inside her apartment.
After some time she returns with a yellowed newspaper clipping.
Joona takes a look at the twenty-year-old article describing a flasher who wore a Dracula mask and who groped women living in the Sodermalm district.
He wasnt wearing a stitch down there-
But this is not-
Not that I was looking, of course, she continued. But Ive already talked to you about this over and over again.
Joona looks at her and smiles. I actually intended to ask you about something completely different.
The womans eyes widen. Well, why didnt you say so?
I was wondering if you know your neighbor, Penelope Fernandez, who-
Shes like a grandchild to me, the woman says. So sweet, so kind, so pleasant-
She stops herself short. Is she dead?
Why do you ask?
Because the police only come over to ask unpleasant questions, she replies.
Did you notice any unusual visitors during the past couple of days?
Just because Im old, doesnt mean I pry into other peoples business.
No, I mean, perhaps you might have noticed something.
I have not.
Has anything else unusual happened lately?
Absolutely not. That girl is hardworking and dutiful.
Joona thanks her for her time saying he might come back with a question some other time. Then he moves aside so the woman can shut the door.
There are not many more apartments on the fourth floor. He begins to climb the stairs. Halfway up, he finds a child sitting on the steps. It looks like a boy approximately eight years old. His hair is short and hes wearing jeans and a worn Helly Hansen sweater. He has a bag with a bottle of Ramlosa mineral water. Its label is almost worn completely away. He also has half of a French roll.
Joona pauses in front of the child, who is looking at him in a shy way.
Hello there, Joona says. Whats your name?
Mia.
My names Joona.
Mia is a girl. Joona notices she has dirt on her chin and around her tiny neck.
Do you carry a gun? she asks. Why do you ask?
You told Ella that you were from the police.
Thats right. Im a detective inspector.
So you have a gun?
Yes, I do, Joona says. Would you like to shoot it off?
The girl looks at him astonished.
Youre joking.
Yes, Im joking, Joona says with a smile. The child laughs.
Why are you sitting on the staircase? he asks.
I like it. You can hear stuff.
Joona sits down next to the child.
What kind of stuff have you heard? he asks calmly.
Right now I just heard you were from the police and I heard Ella lying to you.
What was she lying about?
That she likes Penelope, Mia says.
She doesnt like Penelope?
She sticks cat poop through Penelopes mail slot.
Why would she do something like that?
I dunno. The girl shrugs her shoulders and fiddles with the bag on her lap.
Do you like Penelope?
She says hi to me.
But you dont know her?
Not really.
Joona looks around. Do you live in the stairwell?
The girl gives a slight smile back. No, I live on the second floor with my mom.