The Hypnotist - Ларс Кеплер

Lars Kepler

The Hypnotist

The first book in the Detective Inspector Joona Linna series, 2011

Translated from the Swedish by Ann Long

About the Publisher

In Greek mythology, the god Hypnos is a winged boy with poppy seeds in his hand. His name means sleep. He is the twin brother of Thanatos, death, and the son of night and darkness.

The term hypnosis was first used in its modern sense in 1843 by the Scottish surgeon James Braid. He used this term to describe a sleeplike state of both acute awareness and great receptiveness.

Even today, opinions vary with regard to the usefulness, reliability, and dangers of hypnosis. This lingering ambivalence is presumably owing to the fact that the techniques of hypnosis have been exploited by con men, stage performers, and secret services all over the world.

From a purely technical point of view, it is easy to place a person in a hypnotic state. The difficulty lies in controlling the course of events, guiding the patient, and interpreting and making use of the results. Only through considerable experience and skill is it possible to master deep hypnosis fully. There are only a handful of recognized doctors in the world who have truly mastered deep hypnosis.

Like fire, just like fire. Those were the first words the boy uttered under hypnosis. Despite life-threatening injuries- hundreds of knife wounds to his face, legs, torso, back, the soles of his feet, the back of his neck, and his head- the boy had been put into a state of deep hypnosis in an attempt to see what had happened with his own eyes.

Im trying to blink, he mumbled. I go into the kitchen, but it isnt right; theres a crackling noise between the chairs and a bright red fire is spreading across the floor.

Theyd thought he was dead when they found him among the other bodies in the terraced house. Hed lost a great deal of blood, gone into a state of shock, and hadnt regained consciousness until seven hours later. He was the only surviving witness.

Detective Joona Linna was certain that the boy would be able to provide valuable information, possibly even identify the killer.

But if the other circumstances had not been so exceptional, it would never even have occurred to anyone to turn to a hypnotist.

Chapter 1

tuesday, december 8: early morning

Erik Maria Bark is yanked reluctantly from his dream when the telephone rings. Before he is fully awake, he hears himself say with a smile, Balloons and streamers.

His heart is pounding from the sudden awakening. Erik has no idea what he meant by these words. The dream is completely gone, as if he had never had it.

He fumbles to find the ringing phone, creeping out of the bedroom with it and closing the door behind him to avoid waking Simone. A detective named Joona Linna asks if he is sufficiently awake to absorb important information. His thoughts are still tumbling down into the dark empty space after his dream as he listens.

Ive heard youre very skilled in the treatment of acute trauma, says Linna.

Yes, says Erik.

He swallows a painkiller as he listens. The detective explains that he needs to question a fifteen-year-old boy who has witnessed a double murder and been seriously injured himself. During the night he was moved from the neurological unit in Huddinge to the neurosurgical unit at Karolinska University Hospital in Solna.

Whats his condition? Erik asks.

The detective rapidly summarizes the patients status, concluding, He hasnt been stabilized. Hes in circulatory shock and unconscious.

Whos the doctor in charge? asks Erik.

Daniella Richards.

Shes extremely capable. Im sure she can-

She was the one who asked me to call you. She needs your help. Its urgent.

When Erik returns to the bedroom to get his clothes, Simone is lying on her back, looking at him with a strange, empty expression. A strip of light from the streetlamp is shining in between the blinds.

I didnt mean to wake you, he says softly.

Who was that? she asks.

Police a detective I didnt catch his name.

Whats it about?

I have to go to the hospital, he replies. They need some help with a boy.

What time is it, anyway? She looks at the alarm clock and closes her eyes. He notices the stripes on her freckled shoulders from the creased sheets.

Sleep now, Sixan, he whispers, calling her by her nickname.

Carrying his clothes from the room, Erik dresses quickly in the hall. He catches the flash of a shining blade of steel behind him and turns to see that his son has hung his ice skates on the handle of the front door so he wont forget them. Despite his hurry, Erik finds the protectors in the closet and slides them over the sharp blades.

Its three oclock in the morning when Erik gets into his car. Snow falls slowly from the black sky. There is not a breath of wind, and the heavy flakes settle sleepily on the empty street. He turns the key in the ignition, and the music pours in like a soft wave: Miles Davis, Kind of Blue.

He drives the short distance through the sleeping city, out of Luntmakargatan, along Sveavägen to Norrtull. He catches a glimpse of the waters of Brunnsviken, a large, dark opening behind the snowfall. He slows as he enters the enormous medical complex, manoeuvring between Astrid Lindgrens understaffed hospital and maternity unit, past the radiology and psychiatry departments, to park in his usual place outside the neurosurgical unit. There are only a few cars in the visitors car park. The glow of the streetlamps is reflected in the windows of the tall buildings, and blackbirds rustle through the branches of the trees in the darkness. Usually you hear the roar of the motorway from here, Erik thinks, but not at this time of night.