The No 1 Scandinavian crime bestseller. Karolinska Hospital, Stockholm. Detective Inspector Joona Linna is faced with a boy who witnessed the gruesome murder of his family. He's suffered more than one hundred knife wounds and is comatose with shock. Linna's running out of time. The killer's on the run and, seemingly, there are no clues. Desperate for information, Linna enlists disgraced specialist Dr Erik Maria Bark, a hypnotist who vowed never to practice again. As the hypnosis begins, a long and terrifying chain of events unfurls with reverberations far beyond Linna's case.
"synopsis" may belong to another edition of this title.
Lars Kepler is the pseudonym of Alexandra Coelho Ahndoril & Alexander Ahndoril, both critically-acclaimed writers under their own names. Alexandra Coelho Ahndoril's first novel Stjarneborg (Castle of Stars) has been translated in several languages while Alexander Ahndoril's novel The Director, about Ingmar Bergman, was shortlisted for the Independent Foreign Fiction Prize. They live in Sweden.The Hypnotist is the first in a series featuring Detective Inspector Joona Linna.Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.:
Erik Maria Bark is yanked reluctantly from his dream when the telephone rings. Before he is fully awake, he hears himself say with a smile, “Balloons and streamers.”
His heart is pounding from the sudden awakening. Erik has no idea what he meant by these words. The dream is completely gone, as if he had never had it.
He fumbles to find the ringing phone, creeping out of the bedroom with it and closing the door behind him to avoid waking Simone. A detective named Joona Linna asks if he is sufficiently awake to absorb important information. His thoughts are still tumbling down into the dark empty space after his dream as he listens.
“I’ve heard you’re very skilled in the treatment of acute trauma,” says Linna.
“Yes,” says Erik.
He swallows a painkiller as he listens. The detective explains that he needs to question a fifteen- year- old boy who has witnessed a double murder and been seriously injured himself. During the night he was moved from the neurological unit in Huddinge to the neurosurgical unit at Karolinska University Hospital in Solna.
“What’s his condition?” Erik asks.
The detective rapidly summarizes the patient’s status, concluding,
“He hasn’t been stabilized. He’s in circulatory shock and unconscious.”
“Who’s the doctor in charge?” asks Erik.
“She’s extremely capable. I’m sure she can—”
“She was the one who asked me to call you. She needs your help. It’s urgent.”
When Erik returns to the bedroom to get his clothes, Simone is lying on her back, looking at him with a strange, empty expression. A strip of light from the streetlamp is shining in between the blinds.
“I didn’t mean to wake you,” he says softly.
“Who was that?” she asks.
“Police . . . a detective . . . I didn’t catch his name.”
“What’s it about?”
“I have to go to the hospital,” he replies. “They need some help with a boy.”
“What time is it, anyway?” She looks at the alarm clock and closes her eyes. He notices the stripes on her freckled shoulders from the creased sheets.
“Sleep now, Sixan,” he whispers, calling her by her nickname.
Carrying his clothes from the room, Erik dresses quickly in the hall. He catches the flash of a shining blade of steel behind him and turns to see that his son has hung his ice skates on the handle of the front door so he won’t forget them. Despite his hurry, Erik finds the protectors in the closet and slides them over the sharp blades.
It’s three o’clock in the morning when Erik gets into his car. Snow falls slowly from the black sky. There is not a breath of wind, and the heavy flakes settle sleepily on the empty street. He turns the key in the ignition, and the music pours in like a soft wave: Miles Davis, “Kind of Blue.”
He drives the short distance through the sleeping city, out of Luntmakargatan, along Sveavägen to Norrtull. He catches a glimpse of the waters of Brunnsviken, a large, dark opening behind the snowfall. He slows as he enters the enormous medical complex, maneuvering between Astrid Lindgren’s understaffed hospital and maternity unit, past the radiology and psychiatry departments, to park in his usual place outside the neurosurgical unit. There are only a few cars in the visitors’ lot. The glow of the streetlamps is reflected in the windows of the tall buildings, and blackbirds rustle through the branches of the trees in the darkness. Usually you hear the roar of the superhighway from here, Erik thinks, but not at this time of night.
He inserts his pass card, keys in the six- digit code, enters the lobby, takes the elevator to the fifth floor, and walks down the hall. The blue vinyl floors shine like ice, and the corridor smells of antiseptic. Only now does he become aware of his fatigue, following the sudden surge of adrenaline brought on by the call. It had been such a good sleep, he still feels a pleasant aftertaste.
He thinks over what the detective told him on the telephone: a boy is admitted to the hospital, bleeding from cuts all over his body, sweating; he doesn’t want to lie down, is restless and extremely thirsty. An attempt is made to question him, but his condition rapidly deteriorates. His level of consciousness declines while at the same time his heart begins to race, and Daniella Richards, the doctor in charge, makes the correct decision not to let the police speak to the patient.
Two uniformed cops are standing outside the door of ward N18; Erik senses a certain unease flit across their faces as he approaches. Maybe they’re just tired, he thinks, as he stops in front of them and identifies himself. They glance at his ID, press a button, and the door swings open with a hum.
Daniella Richards is making notes on a chart when Erik walks in. As he greets her, he notices the tense lines around her mouth, the muted stress in her movements.
“Have some coffee,” she says.
“Do we have time?” asks Erik.
“I’ve got the bleed in the liver under control,” she replies.
A man of about forty- five, dressed in jeans and a black jacket, is thumping the coffee machine. He has tousled blond hair, and his lips are serious, clamped firmly together. Erik thinks maybe this is Daniella’s husband, Magnus. He has never met him; he has only seen a photograph in her office.
“Is that your husband?” he asks, waving his hand in the direction of the man.
“What?” She looks both amused and surprised.
“I thought maybe Magnus had come with you.”
“No,” she says, with a laugh.
“I don’t believe you,” teases Erik, starting to walk toward the man.
“I’m going to ask him.”
Daniella’s cell phone rings and, still laughing, she flips it open, saying,
“Stop it, Erik,” before answering, “Daniella Richards.” She listens but hears nothing. “Hello?” She waits a few seconds, then shrugs. “Aloha!” she says ironically and flips the phone shut.
Erik has walked over to the blond man. The coffee machine is whirring and hissing. “Have some coffee,” says the man, trying to hand Erik a mug.
The man smiles, revealing small dimples in his cheeks, and takes a sip himself. “Delicious,” he says, trying once again to force a mug on Erik.
“I don’t want any.”
The man takes another sip, studying Erik. “Could I borrow your phone?” he asks suddenly. “If that’s okay. I left mine in the car.”
“And now you want to borrow mine?” Erik asks stiffly.
The blond man nods and looks at him with pale eyes as gray as polished granite.
“You can borrow mine again,” says Daniella, who has come up behind Erik.
He takes the phone, looks at it, then glances up at her. “I promise you’ll get it back,” he says.
“You’re the only one who’s using it anyway,” she jokes.
He laughs and moves away.
“He must be your husband,” says Erik.
“Well, a girl can dream,” she says with a smile, glancing back at the lanky fellow.
Suddenly she looks very tired. She’s been rubbing her eyes; a smudge of silver- gray eyeliner smears her cheek.
“Shall I have a look at the patient?” asks Erik.
“Please.” She nods.
“As I’m here anyway,” he hastens to add.
“Erik, I really do want your opinion, I’m not at all sure about this one.”
"About this title" may belong to another edition of this title.
Book Description blue door, 2011. Hardcover. Book Condition: New. Dust Jacket Condition: New. 1st Edition. authors (both) signed first printing hardcover in mylar protected dustjacket. first UK edition. new & unused; no marks, not remaindered, not exlib, not bookclub, dj price intact & only number 1 for a number line. simple authors signatures on title page, no inscription. fiction hardcover. Signed by Author(s). Bookseller Inventory # 2681
Book Description London,United Kingdom:Blue Door, 2011. Hardcover. Book Condition: New. Dust Jacket Condition: New. 1st Edition. A superb UK first edition, first print Hardback in an unblemished dust-wrapper(Fitted with a removable, clear thin film protector).Both Alexander & Alexandra Ahndoril have signed the book in their own names and also signed as Lars Kepler.In addition the book was later signed by the translator Ann Long who also added her Swedish Pseudonym name, all directly to the title page(Please see photos) .The book is brand new, totally unused and in immaculate fine/fine condition.All my books are securely bubble wrapped and dispatched in sturdy professional book boxes.purchases within the UK are sent either First Class recorded delivery of Special, Delivery(depending on value) and therefore fully insured against loss and purchases outside of the Uk are sent by Royal mail Airmail. *****please note, I do Not charge extra for books that weigh heavier than an average of 0.9 kilos gross(when boxed) and will reduce shipping costs when processing orders for books that weigh less than 0.9 kilos Gross. Signed by Author(s). Bookseller Inventory # ABE-8417105748
Book Description Blue Door, 2011. Hardcover. Book Condition: New. Never used!. Bookseller Inventory # P110007359101
Book Description Blue Door / Harper Collins, 2011. Hardcover. Book Condition: New. Dust Jacket Condition: New. 1st Edition. A Swedish thriller introducing Detective Inspector Joona Linna is brought to us by a husband/wife writing team (Alexander and Alexandra Coelho Ahndoril) under the pseudonym of Lars Kepler. The Hypnotist is the first in a projected series of 8 novels. This first edition is signed by both authors - Both authors have signed Lars Kepler and underneath, both authors have signed their real names. A fine unread hardcover in a like dustwrapper. **************SHIPPED IN A BOX WITH PLENTY OF PROTECTION. Signed by Author(s). Bookseller Inventory # 463832
Book Description Blue Door, 2011. Hardcover. Book Condition: New. Bookseller Inventory # DADAX0007359101
Book Description Blue Door 2011-05-01, 2011. Hardcover. Book Condition: New. First Edition. 0007359101 We guarantee all of our items - customer service and satisfaction are our top priorities. Please allow 4 - 14 business days for Standard shipping, within the US. Bookseller Inventory # TM-0007359101
Book Description Blue Door, 2001. Hardcover. Book Condition: New. Dust Jacket Condition: As New. 1st Edition. Signed by Author(s) 0007359101 TRUE First Edition, First print. Signed by the author directly on the full title page not inscribed, clipped or otherwise marked in any way. DJ in Mylar. Not BCE or EX Lib. Non smoking environment. Brand new and unread. Three signatures. Bookseller Inventory # ABE-5299751567