Chapter 5 5

Someone knocked heavily on the door and she woke up.She woke up immediately, got up, and started looking for clothes to wear. Pooh!How did you oversleep?It was eight forty-five on the clock radio.The question at hand is: Has Glennburg found itself designed?Or had he just woken up with a particularly hard erection? Please wait! She hurried into the toilet to get clothes.Hello!Please open the door!We have a few questions for you. Oops!Not Glennburgh, but a few women.Could it be that some restaurant waiter recognized her?Although she wears that wig? oh!fucking bastard!I haven't got dressed yet.

There was silence in the corridor.She hurried to the window and looked out.There is no escape path. It's the police, please hurry up. police!What exactly is going on? I will as soon as possible, just give me a few minutes. She pressed her ear to the door and heard footsteps leaving.Just in front of her nose was a sheet of emergency escape maps, and she studied the escape routes while fumbling for the safety pin in her belt.She checked her room number and found that it was only two doors away from the emergency escape elevator.She hurried to get her coat and handbag, and then listened to the sound from the crack of the door.Cautiously, she opened the door slightly and peeked out into the hallway.The corridor was empty.

She stepped lightly into the corridor and quietly closed the door behind her.A few seconds later, she was running down the back stairs, which should lead to a door with the street outside. Then she remembered, that briefcase!She forgot to take it.The thought sent her up a short flight of stairs, but after a moment of hesitation, she realized: The briefcase was missing, and so was the wig in the bathroom.Pooh!Almost down the toilet with seven hundred and forty Swedish kronor and such an outstanding investment that she could sleep soundly for several nights.Forgot to bring even those free soaps and small jars of shampoo.

She came to the bottom of the stairs and stopped in front of a metal door with a green emergency exit sign.She pushed the lock bar and opened the door, allowing her head to poke out.A police car was parked only twenty yards away, but it was empty, which gave her enough courage to step out into the street.She looked around and realized that she was behind the Grand Hotel. She pushed through traffic on Stall Street's stalled morning, with little visible tension on her face, and crossed Brasieholm square.She turned right at the corner of Arsenal street, past Berns cafe, and down Hamn street.No one seemed to be following her, but just to make sure she was not, she continued across Normalm square and down Bibliotek street until she reached the wiener cafe Outside, I started to slow down.

That coffee shop seemed like a good place to sit and think.She chose a table as far away from the windows as possible and tried to calm down. Since the nights she had allowed herself to hang out at the hotel, the escape had been a fluke.She'd better forget about the Grand Hotel for a while.She didn't understand how Grant knew her. Could it be that the hotel staff recognized her and called Grant's room?Since this is the case, why let her sleep peacefully all night?Well!She'll never know the answer, maybe it doesn't matter if she knows it or not. She looked around the coffee shop where everyone was having breakfast.

She wished she had some money, a drink would be nice, she felt a sore throat.She wondered if she had a fever, so she put her hand on her forehead.It's really hard to tell. She looked at her watch, checking the date on it.The watch stopped again.She received this confirmation seventeen years ago, and she has worn the watch ever since.This is a gift from Mommy and Daddy, with the best wishes: I wish her a happy and prosperous life. Imagine that scenario! Relatively speaking, she is living a happier life now, which is true.She was determined to create something out of her unhappy life, and believed she could.That's important, but anyway, she's a lot happier now than she is playing the demure daughter of a stable, middle-class family.Good behavior has always been the number one priority, and, thinking about it, it's really hard to explain why they put up with it, as if it wasn't bad enough, and go on to dig up many other character flaws, and finally, the whole family drains away. Be patient with her.In this way, she ended her life in that high-end villa.

Every month, year after year, a white envelope with no return address landed in her Drstning street mailbox, reminding her of the past.There was always fifteen hundred Swedish kronor in the envelope, no more, no less. I never saw a word in the envelope, never asked her how she was doing.Her mother paid for peace of mind, just as she had always paid to stop worrying about the little ones in Biafra.In all likelihood, her father knew nothing about it. It costs sixty-two crowns a month to rent that mailbox. A waitress with a nose ring came to her table and asked what she wanted to order.As long as she has money, she will actually order a lot of things.She shook her head, stood up, and started walking down Bibliotek Street in the direction of Grand Central Station.She has to change clothes.

Halfway across Normum Square, she saw it: a bright yellow press release on a news stand with a startling big story printed in bold capitals.She had to read it three times before she finally realized that she was involved in the news. news flash There was a brutal murder at the Grand Hotel last night TT News Agency, Stockholm A man was murdered in his room at the Grand Hotel in Stockholm last night.The man, who lives in central Sweden, was away on business at the time and had also stayed at the Grand Hotel for the first two nights.The man was due to leave on Friday, according to a statement from a hotel worker.

Police sources declined to release any details related to the murder at this stage, but police did say hotel staff discovered the body around midnight after a hotel guest notified staff that the murdered man There was blood in the hallway outside the room.The police also confirmed that the body of the deceased had been mutilated to some extent.At this stage, police have no evidence to identify the killer, but it is expected that interviews with hotel staff and guests will help clarify the events of the fatal night.As of press time, the police investigation at the murder scene has not yet been completed, and the Grand Hotel is still closed to the outside world, waiting for further notice from the police.This morning the body will be handed over to the Institute for Forensic Medicine in Solna for forensic examination.The interrogation of hotel staff and guests is expected to be completed today, and by then, the hotel will return to normal.

That's it, plus a full-page photo of the Grand Hotel. The rest of the article lists other dismemberment cases that have occurred in Sweden over the past decade, thoughtfully including photos of the victims, along with their names and ages. So, that's why the police knocked on her door.Thank God she escaped.How was she going to explain why she was at the most expensive restaurant in Stockholm?She couldn't even afford a cup of coffee in the Viennese Cafe in Stockholm, so how could she possibly convince her, for example, that she could occasionally spend a night in a high-quality bed?Even if the money is always offered by someone who has the means to pay it easily.Not convincing at all, and that's the point.There was no way she could have convinced the police, no one would know, because none of them had ever lived the life she had.

Baby, this isn't a fucking library.Do you want to buy a newspaper?The man at the newsstand grew impatient.She didn't respond, but meekly put the newspaper back on the shelf. It was cold and she did have a sore throat.She started walking toward Grand Central Station again.She needed the money, and it was three days before the next payment arrived in her mailbox.In other words, she won't get that money until Monday. There is a special change machine in the left-luggage office at Grand Central Station.She got there, stood in front of the machine, and slammed the button that fed the bills several times. What's the matter with this thing? She spoke very loudly, obviously wanting everyone around her to know how angry she was.She pressed that button a few more times, then sighed heavily and looked around.A man behind the storage counter noticed her and she walked towards him. What's wrong?the man asked. The machine didn't work, it swallowed my hundred-krona notes and didn't spit out half a change, and my train was leaving in eight minutes. The man opened the money drawer: it happens a lot these days. Good luck. The man counted ten ten kroner coins and handed the ten coins to her.Well, here it is!If you're in a hurry, you can still catch the train. She smiled slightly, and put the ten coins into her handbag.thank you very much! Luckily she kept the locker key in her coat pocket instead of the briefcase she had left at the Grand Hotel. She took her rucksack and spent a few minutes in the women's toilet before emerging in jeans and a padded winter coat.She has already decided what to do next. Gotta spend the night with the Johansson family! On the way to the field cottages in Eriksdal, she bought a can of snap peas, a loaf of bread, a bottle of Coke, two apples and a tomato.Just as she was crossing Ericsdale Street, she felt the first drops of rain.For several days the sky had been covered with low, leaden gray clouds. None of the field huts seemed to be tended, and she was thankful that on such a dreary March day, the vegetable growers would not think of going outside to tend their fields.Having said that, maybe it's just that the busy farming season hasn't arrived yet.Snow doesn't seem to be coming this year, but the ground is still hard because of the frost. It was the first time she had been here in daylight, and it was a risk, but she was exhausted.She is running a fever and needs peace and quiet. The key, as usual, was hidden in the hanging basket.They removed the geraniums that bloomed in the baskets every summer, but the key remained hidden in its old place.When she first came to this farmhouse five years ago, the key was in the easiest place to find it. The real owners of the farmhouse, Kurt and Bijit.Birgit Johansson, unaware that he shared the farmhouse with Sibylla.She has always been careful to keep the farmhouse in its original condition, never destroying anything in it.She had chosen the Johnsons' farmhouse partly because it was easy to find the key, but also because the garden seats were usually thickly upholstered.Spread these pads on the floor and it makes a decent mattress.Plus, the Johansen family know how to decorate, outfitting their small retreat with a kerosene heater and hot plates.With luck, she could be alone there for a while, because the Johansen family only visited in the summer. The farmhouse, which was actually smaller than the average hut, was actually damp and cold. Even so, this one-room farmhouse with a floor of about ten square meters was one of the largest farmhouses in the neighborhood.A few kitchen cupboards stand along one wall, next to a small sink.She checked the closet under the sink for the bucket that was supposed to be under the drain. Dirty flowered curtains were half drawn over the windows, and a small dining table with peeling paint was nearby.The dining table was flanked by two odd wooden chairs.She lowered the curtains, took a wrought-iron candlestick from the stand, and lit the candles in it.At this moment, she trembled all over. She zipped up her thick coat.The kerosene tank was almost empty, so she would have to go to the garage in the afternoon to get more kerosene.As soon as the heater was turned on, she took out a porcelain bowl from the cupboard, put the apples and tomatoes she bought into the bowl, and placed it on the dining table.She has learned to appreciate the small, beautiful things in life, such as making your surroundings look as good as possible.She took the sleeping bag out of the rucksack and lined up the cushions on the floor.The cushions were damp, so she spread her own cushion underneath before climbing into the sleeping bag. She rested her head on her arms, studied the ceiling tiles, and decided to forget about the Grand Hotel.No one knew her, and even if anyone noticed, they would never be able to piece together who she was.She told herself she was safe, and felt better about it, and began to sleep deeply, undisturbed by any gloomy symptoms.