The Princess of Burundi - Kjell Eriksson [45]
“You remember me, don’t you?”
“Of course,” she said. “But you’ve changed a lot.”
“So have you.”
Gunilla freed herself from his hand and reached for the corkscrew hanging above the counter. Vincent Hahn stood right next to her, his sour, foul-smelling breath filling the entire kitchen, and she was struck by the thought that she would never be able to get it clean again.
“Do you like red wine?” she asked and raised the bottle.
The blow came from nowhere, startling both her and Vincent. Everything happened like a reflex action, the instinctive self-defense of an animal.
The bottle struck him on the side of the head and she finished the attack by thrusting the corkscrew into his chest.
Wine was spilling everywhere. Vincent’s face was twisted with pain and surprise. He teetered, fumbling with his hand against the kitchen table, grabbing the back of the chair, then gliding down onto the floor and pulling the chair along with him. Wine and blood mingled together.
Gunilla stood rooted to the spot for a few seconds, paralyzed, still with the broken bottle in one hand and the corkscrew in her left, leaning over, tense, prepared to attack again, but the man at her feet hardly moved. The pool of blood spread out like a dark rose over the linoleum. The raw smell of the blood mixed with the heavy scent of the Rioja.
“You bastard,” she said and pointed the broken bottle at his face, but then she suddenly dropped the sharp-edged weapon and fled from the kitchen, pulled open the front door, and ran out into the dark night.
The cold outside was intense. She slipped in the snow but ran on. Her cries filled the whole yard and the neighbors said later that it had sounded like a terrified, wounded animal.
Åke Bolinder, who lived in the tower block and had just taken his dog off its leash, was the first on the scene. He came running around the corner of the laundry building to see a woman sink to the ground. He immediately recognized her, not because he knew her particularly well, but because he had seen her at the association meetings and occasionally in the grocery store.
When he reached her he smelled the wine that came from her body and noted the tightly gripped corkscrew in her hand. He commanded his dog to sit and leaned over her, not sure of what to do next. He looked up at the wide-open door to her apartment.
Bolinder was a peace-loving man in his fifties, well-groomed and unmarried. He stared at Gunilla’s breasts, at the black bra that stood in stark contrast to the white snow, kneeled down and pulled away a little of the hair that had fallen over her face. What if she throws up? he thought and prepared to jump back. But her expression was almost calm. In the distance he could hear the footsteps of someone running, a balcony door opened, and someone shouted something he didn’t quite catch.
The dog, who was still obediently sitting a few meters away, growled. Bolinder looked up and followed the dog’s gaze. In the door frame there was now a man, his face distorted with pain and hate. Bolinder could hear the rasping sounds of his exhalations, which formed small white puffs of vapor in the cold night. Blood was dripping from his beard.
Jupiter, the German shepherd, started to bark. Bolinder stood up.
“What is it?” Bolinder asked and at that moment Jupiter attacked. Bolinder didn’t know if his usually so gentle dog had been roused to action because of the note of fear in his master’s voice or the fact that the man in the doorway took half a step forward. The dog’s lunge came without warning.
The man in the doorway lost his balance but managed to pull the door shut at the last moment. Bolinder saw Jupiter jump up, heard the sounds of his heavy body come into contact with the hard door and then saw him be thrown back onto the ground.
The dog was back on his feet again immediately and barked loudly. His first somewhat tentative attempts had turned into full-throttle barking. Bolinder called his dog over but Jupiter took no notice of him. Gunilla moved slightly and Bolinder leaned down over her again. She opened her eyes and