Angel Maker: An Unputdownable Scandinavian Crime Thriller With A Chilling Twist (DI Jamie Johansson Book 1)

Jamie could hear Wiik tearing the uniformed officer who’d left his post a new asshole outside the door. One that he’d be able to store bowling balls in, judging by the volume and sharpness of Wiik’s tirade.

She was still in the room. Staring down at Robert Nyström’s lifeless corpse.

He was lying there, soaked with his own blood. He looked pale. A ghost of himself.

His gown was crimson, the sheets were crimson. And the floor was black.

The puddle of blood spread beneath the bed like a hole that dropped away to nothing.

All of his blood had emptied out of him, and there was nothing they could do about it.

But it hadn’t been from the gunshot wound – this was something else.

When the doctor and nurses had called it, pronouncing Robert Nyström dead at 12.02 a.m., they’d left the room. There was nothing more to be done except get cleaned up and look after the patients they could save. Brutal, but it was the job.

But this wasn’t a hospital room anymore anyway. This was now a crime scene.

Because in the time that the officer left his post at the door, someone had come into Robert Nyström’s room and had run a blade across his throat.

Jamie was looking down at him now – at his open gullet. The skin was peeled back, gruesome and raw. Under it, Nyström’s flesh shone red. Then was his oesophagus, hacked in two. His tendons, slashed. The muscles, sliced.

Someone had stood over him, put a blade against his neck, and pulled. Hard.

There was no mistaking it.

Someone wanted Nyström dead, and they were not leaving it to chance.

Wiik came back into the room, pressing his hair to his head. He was exhaling, his cheeks puffed out. ‘What a fucking mess,’ he said, stopping next to Jamie.

She hung her head.

‘CSTs are on the way. As are uniformed officers – we’ll lock down the hospital, round up the staff, get the CCTV footage. We’ll find out who did this.’

Jamie didn’t feel like talking. She just didn’t have it in her.

Instead, she stepped back and walked around Wiik, heading for the door.

‘Where are you going?’ he called, following her into the corridor.

Jamie didn’t bother turning back. ‘It’s been a long day, Wiik. I’m going to bed.’