Part 58 (1/2)

'But I don't understand why,' Joona persists.

'Buy a book on Swedish law.'

A strand of blonde hair blows across Sara's face, and she brushes it aside with one finger and raises her eyebrows as Joona starts to speak.

'According to chapter twenty-four, paragraph twenty,' he says, 'a prosecutor can revoke the decision to remand a suspect in custody if that decision is no longer justified.'

'Bravo,' she smiles. 'But there's a clear risk that Kyrklund will evade the course of justice, and a tangible danger that he would commit further offences.'

'But we're only talking about minor narcotics offences, punishable by a year's imprisonment at most ... and it's extremely doubtful that possession could even be proven.'

'You said it wasn't his jacket over the phone,' she says in a bright voice.

'And that the reason for holding him in custody in no way warrants this degree of intrusion into his life.'

'Suddenly it feels like I'm standing on the steps of the City Court holding fresh custody negotiations with a former police officer ...'

'I can arrange for supervision,' Joona says, following her down the steps.

'It doesn't work like that, as you well know.'

'I understand that, but he's ill and needs constant medical attention,' Joona says.

She stops and lets her eyes roam over his face.

'If Kyrklund needs a doctor, the doctor can come to prison.'

'But if I were to say that this is a particular treatment that can't be carried out in prison ...'

'Then I'd say you were lying.'

'I can get a medical certificate,' Joona persists.

'Go ahead, but I'm pressing charges next Tuesday.'

'I'll appeal.'

'Nice try,' she smiles, and starts walking again.

100.

Joona is sitting on one of the rear pews in Adolf Fredrik Church. A girls' choir is rehearsing for a concert up at the front. The choir leader gives them the right note and the teenagers start to sing O viridissima virga.

Joona sinks into memories of the long, light nights in Nattavaara after Summa's death. Sunlight floods through the arched windows of the church, mixed with autumn leaves and stained gla.s.s.

The choir pauses after a few minutes, the girls take out their mobiles, gather in groups and walk through the aisles, chatting as they go.

The door to the porch opens and closes quickly. The churchwarden looks up from her book, then carries on reading.

Margot comes in with two heavy plastic bags in her hands. They hit the pew as she squeezes in next to Joona. Her stomach has swollen so much that it presses again the shelf for hymnbooks.

'I really am sorry,' Margot says in a half-whisper. 'I know you don't want to believe it, but take a look at this.'

With a sigh she lifts one of the bags on to her lap and pulls out a printout showing a fingerprint match. Joona quickly reads through the various parameters of the comparison, then checks the first-level details himself, and sees the similarities in the lines and patterns.

There are three perfectly defined fingerprints, and the match with Erik Maria Bark is one hundred per cent.

'Where were the prints found?' Joona asks.

'On the little porcelain deer's head that was in Susanna Kern's hand.'

Joona gazes out into the nave. The choir is gathering once more, the choir leader claps her hands to get their attention.

'You asked for evidence before,' Margot continues. 'These fingerprints are evidence, aren't they?'

'In a judicial sense,' he says in a low voice.

'The searches are still going on,' she says. 'We've found our serial killer.'

'Have you?'

Margot puts the bag containing material from the preliminary investigation on Joona's lap.

'I really wanted to believe you, and the idea of the preacher,' she says, leaning back and breathing hard.

'You should,' Joona replies.

'You met Rocky, I arranged for you to be able to question him,' she says, with a hint of impatience. 'You said you needed to do that before you could find this unclean preacher.'

'He doesn't remember anything now.'

'Because there isn't anything to remember,' she concludes.

The choir starts singing, and the girls' voices fill the church. Margot tries to make herself more comfortable and tucks her plait over her shoulder.

'You traced Erik to Smland,' Joona says.

'The rapid response team stormed a charter bus and found his phone tucked between two seats.'

'Oops,' Joona says drily.

'He hasn't put a foot wrong so far, he's staying out of the way like a professional,' she says. 'It's almost as if he's been given advice about what to do.'