The Sandman. Ларс Кеплер

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Chapter 164

      

       Chapter 165

      

       Chapter 166

      

       Chapter 167

      

       Chapter 168

      

       Chapter 169

      

       Chapter 170

      

       Chapter 171

      

       Chapter 172

      

       Chapter 173

      

       Chapter 174

      

       Chapter 175

      

       Chapter 176

      

       Chapter 177

      

       Chapter 178

      

       Chapter 179

      

       Chapter 180

      

       Chapter 181

      

       Chapter 182

      

       Chapter 183

      

       Epilogue

      

       Read on for an exclusive extract from the next Joona Linna thriller, Stalker

       About the Author

      

       Also by Lars Kepler

      

       About the Publisher

       It’s the middle of the night, and snow is blowing in from the sea. A young man is walking across a high railway bridge, towards Stockholm. His face is as pale as misted glass. His jeans are stiff with frozen blood. He is walking between the rails, stepping over the sleepers. Fifty metres below him the ice on the water is just visible, like a strip of cloth. A blanket of snow covers the trees and oil tanks in the harbour are barely visible; the snow is swirling in the glow from the container crane far below.

       Warm blood is trickling down the man’s lower left arm, into his hand and dripping from his fingertips.

       The rails start to sing and whistle as a night-train approaches the two-kilometre-long bridge.

       The young man sways and sits down on the rail, then gets to his feet again and carries on walking.

       The air is buffeted in front of the train, and the view is obscured by the billowing snow. The Traxx train has already reached the middle of the bridge when the driver catches sight of the man on the track. He blows his horn, and sees the figure almost fall, then it takes a long step to the left, onto the oncoming track, and grabs hold of the flimsy railing.

       The man’s clothes are flapping around his body. The bridge is shaking heavily under his feet. He is standing still with his eyes wide open, his hands on the railing.

       Everything is swirling snow and tumbling darkness.

       His bloody hand has started to freeze as he carries on walking.

       His name is Mikael Kohler-Frost. He has been missing for thirteen years, and was declared dead seven years ago.

       1

       Secure Criminal Psychology Unit

       Löwenströmska Hospital

      The steel gate closes behind the new doctor with a heavy clang. The metallic echo pushes past him and continues down the spiral staircase.

      Anders Rönn feels a shiver run down his spine when everything suddenly goes quiet.

      As of today, he is going to be working in the secure criminal psychology unit.

      For the past thirteen years, the strictly isolated bunker has been home to the ageing Jurek Walter. He was sentenced to psychiatric care with specific probation requirements.

      The young doctor doesn’t know much about his patient, except that he has been diagnosed with: ‘Schizophrenia, non-specific. Chaotic thinking. Recurrent acute psychosis, with erratic and extremely violent episodes’.

      Anders

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