Erik wakes up as they are driving down a long hill beside a golf course.
“Nearly there,” says Joona.
“I fell asleep,” says Erik, mainly to himself.
“Eva Blau rang Charlotte on the same day you were featured in all the newspapers,” Joona muses.
“And the following day Benjamin was kidnapped,” says Erik.
“Because someone spotted you.”
“Or because I broke my promise never to hypnotise anyone again.”
“In which case it’s my fault,” says Joona.
Erik doesn’t really know what to say.
“I’m sorry,” says Joona, his eyes fixed on the road.
They pass a discount shop with smashed windows. Joona glances in the rear-view mirror. A woman wrapped in a shawl sweeps up broken glass on the pavement.
“I don’t know what happened with Eva,” says Erik. “Every now and then a patient completely eludes you. It was as if my treatment aggravated her condition. She blamed me and my hypnosis for everything, she became delusional, she harmed herself, and in the end … I should never have accepted her into the group. I should never have hypnotised anyone.”
“But you helped Charlotte,” Joona says.
“So it seems,” Erik says quietly.
Just after a traffic circle, they bump over a railroad crossing, turn off to the left at a playing field, drive across a river, and stop outside a large grey apartment building.
Joona points to the glove compartment. “Would you pass me my gun, please.”
Erik opens the compartment and hands over the heavy weapon. Joona checks the barrel and the magazine and makes sure the safety catch is on before slipping the gun into his pocket.
They walk quickly across the parking lot, passing a playground with swings, a sandpit, and a jungle gym.
Erik points out the way to the main door; he looks up and sees flashing Christmas decorations and satellite dishes on virtually every balcony.
An old woman is standing inside the locked door, leaning on a wheeled walker. Joona knocks and waves cheerily. She looks at them and shakes her head. Joona shows her his ID through the glass, but she just shakes her head again. Erik rummages in his pockets and finds an envelope containing a receipt he was supposed to hand in to the finance office. He walks up to the glass, taps on it, and holds up the envelope. The woman immediately moves over to the door and presses the button to release the electrical lock.
“Is it the mail?” she asks shakily.
“Express delivery,” Erik replies.
“There’s so much sobbing and screaming in here,” the woman whispers towards the wall.
“What did you say?” asks Joona.
Erik looks at the list of names and finds Veronica Andersson on the second floor. The narrow staircase is covered with graffiti. A rank smell comes from the rubbish chute. The fluorescent fixture overhead flickers. They locate the right door and Joona rings the bell. Muddy footprints from children’s boots lead up and down the stairs.
No response.
“Try again,” says Erik.
Joona pushes open the letter box and shouts that he has a letter from The Watchtower. Erik sees the detective’s head jerk back, as if he has been hit by a blast wave.
“What is it?”
“I don’t know, but I want you to wait outside,” says Joona, his expression strained in the flickering light.
“No.”
“I’m going in alone.”
Something crashes to the floor in one of the neighbouring apartments. Joona reaches out and tries the door. It isn’t locked. A powerful smell surges out as the door swings open. Joona draws his gun and gestures sharply to Erik to stay where he is.