Let the Old Dreams Die by John Ajvide Lindqvist Read Free Book Online Page A

couldn’t let it go. Dearly bought experience had taught her that the situation became impossible in the long run if she started ignoring this kind of thing. Secret smiles, unspoken complicity. When he had been going on for a while, still talking about the violin and the fact that she had no heart, she suddenly snapped.
    ‘Heikko, for fuck’s sake! Give it a rest! How many times haveyou brought in more than you should?’
    He said it was the first time. She shook her head.
    ‘I’d say it was eight or ten times. Smaller amounts, admittedly. Perhaps a case or two above the limit. And I’ve let it go every single time, without saying a word. Thought it was for personal use, as they say, but now you’ve gone too far, you understand?’
    The rough lorry driver shrank before her; he looked terrified. She waved in the direction of the lorry, which was parked down below the window.
    ‘If you bring in one extra bottle, or two or three, I can’t be bothered doing anything about it, but this can’t happen again, is that clear?’
    Heikko nodded. Tina took out her notebook.
    ‘Right. This is what I’m going to do. I’m going to report you as a private individual. You’ll be fined and all hell will break loose as you so rightly pointed out, but you can keep the firm out of it. Next time you won’t be so lucky, OK?’
    ‘Yes. Thank you.’
    She pointed to her chest. ‘And I do have a heart. It’s here, in exactly the same place as yours.’
    ‘Yes, yes. Thank you.’
    ‘And if you say thank you one more time I’ll change my mind. There might have been amphetamines hidden in those cases, now I come to think of it.’
    Heikko grinned, held up his hands in defence. ‘You know I never—’
    ‘Yes, I know. Now get out of here.’
    When Heikko had gone and Tina had watched him climb into the cab of his lorry and drive away, she was seized by a sudden melancholy.
    The tough approach was necessary and it was like a second skinas far as she was concerned, but it wasn’t really her, just an essential façade that enabled her to do a job she was increasingly beginning to feel was pointless. What did she care about those cases of vodka? Who would suffer, apart from the state-owned liquor monopoly?
    Heikko would have sold a couple of bottles to one neighbour, three to another. Everyone would have been happy, the boy would have got his new violin. Sweetness and light all around, if it hadn’t been for that witch on customs. Perhaps she should pack it in, just do consultancy work. Drugs were another matter. She had no pangs of conscience there.
    She could see Heikko in her mind’s eye, arriving home. His wife. His son going sadly to his room, closing the door. Continuing to practise on his old violin, far too small for his big fingers.
    Damn it,
she thought.
He was probably lying.
    But he hadn’t been lying, and she knew it. That was why she had let him off lightly. The customs witch.

    SEPTEMBER 18
    Vore came last night. I knew it was him when the dogs started barking. He’s rented the cottage for a week, to begin with.
    Roland wasn’t happy. Said it was down to me if there were any problems. He sounds like the Muddler from the Moomintroll stories. The only thing missing is the button collection.
    The neighbours came home with a baby girl. Haven’t been to see her yet, but I suppose I’ll have to.
    I’m not happy with my life. Bloody Heikko, he showed me that. I don’t like catching people out. Maybe there are those who do. The other people at work don’t seem to have a problem. Perhaps because it’s still a challenge for them.
    Roland sulked all evening. The strangest thing about him is that he’s not an alcoholic. It would suit him very well. But then again, he has the TV. I asked Vore if he’d like me to put the small TV in the cottage. He said televisions gave him a headache. Yet another thing we have in common. We talked for a while about herbal remedies.
    I’m not allergic to electricity, I don’t want to be