He stopped by the door and heard it close behind him. The curtains were drawn, and the room was dark apart from a lamp by the bed. The light fell on a figure sitting semi-upright against a pillow, head bowed and long hair hanging down on each side.
‘Come closer, Harry.’ The voice had changed; it sounded like the lament of unoiled door hinges. But Harry recognised it, and his blood ran cold.
He approached the bed and sat on the chair that had been provided. The man raised his head. And Harry stopped breathing.
He looked as if someone had poured hot wax over his face. Which had stiffened into a mask that was too tight, pulling the forehead and the chin back and turning the mouth into a small, lipless gap in a lumpy landscape of bony tissue. The laughter was two short blasts of air.
‘Don’t you recognise me, Harry?’
‘I recognise the eyes,’ Harry said. ‘That’ll do. It’s you.’
‘Anything new from . . .’ The small carp-like mouth seemed to be forming a smile. ‘… our Rakel?’
Harry had prepared himself for this, braced himself the way a boxer braces himself for pain. Nonetheless, the sound of her name in his mouth made him clench his fists.
‘You agreed to talk to me about a man. A man we think is like you.’
‘Like me? Better-looking, I trust.’ Again two short blasts. ‘It’s bizarre, Harry. I’ve never been a vain man; I thought the pain would be the worst aspect of this illness. But do you know what? It’s the deterioration. It’s seeing yourself in the mirror, seeing the monster emerge. They still let me go to the toilet alone, but I avoid the mirrors. I was a good-looking man, you know.’
‘Have you read the things I sent you?’
‘I had a quick skim. Dr Dyregod’s of the opinion I shouldn’t wear myself out. Infections. Inflammations. Fever. She’s genuinely concerned about my health, Harry. Quite astonishing when you consider what I’ve done, eh? Personally I’m more interested in dying. That’s precisely where I envy those I … but you put a stop to that, didn’t you, Harry?’
‘Death would have been too kind a punishment.’
Something seemed to ignite in the sick man’s eyes and appeared as a cold white light from the slits in his face.
‘At least I have a name and a place in the annals of history. People will read about the Snowman. Someone will inherit the mantle and act out my ideas in life. What have you got, Harry? Nothing. Quite the contrary, you’ve lost the little you had.’
‘True,’ Harry said. ‘You won.’
‘Do you miss your middle finger?’
‘Well, I’m missing it right now.’ Harry raised his head and met the other’s gaze. Held it. Then the small carp mouth opened. The laughter sounded like a gun with a silencer.
‘At least you haven’t lost your sense of humour, Harry. You know I’m going to demand something in return, don’t you?’
‘No cure, no pay. But go ahead.’
The man twisted with some difficulty to the bedside table, lifted the glass of water standing there and put it to his mouth. Harry stared at the hand holding the glass. It resembled a white bird’s claw. After finishing, the man carefully put the glass back and spoke. The lament was fainter now, like a radio on low batteries.
‘I believe there is something in the prison manual about high suicide risks. At any rate, they watch me like hawks. They searched you before you came in, didn’t they? Afraid you would bring me a knife or something similar. But I don’t want to see any further deterioration, Harry. It’s enough now, don’t you think?’
‘No,’ Harry said. ‘I don’t think so. Talk about something else.’
‘You could have lied and said yes.’
‘Would you prefer that?’
The man waved a hand dismissively. ‘I’d like to see Rakel.’
Harry raised an eyebrow. ‘Why’s that?’
‘I’d just like to say something to her.’
‘What?’
‘That is a matter between her and me.’
The chair scraped as Harry stood up. ‘It won’t happen.’
‘Wait. Take a seat.’
Harry took a seat.
The man looked down and tugged at the bedcover. ‘Don’t misunderstand me. I have no regrets about the others. They were whores. But Rakel was different. She was … different. I just wanted to say that.’
Harry studied him, dumbfounded.
‘So what do you think?’ the Snowman said. ‘Say yes. Lie if you have to.’
‘Yes,’ Harry lied.
‘You’re a bad liar, Harry. I want to talk to her before I help you.’
‘Out of the question.’