Page 65 of Sixty Meters Under

Lennart inhaled and exhaled slowly. He didn’t like that he had to be the one to tell Björn the news, but still better than anyone else who didn’t know about his relationship with Scarlett. “I wish I could make this easier for you, but I can’t…”

“Speak to me, for fucks sake!”

Lennart knew he had to say it no matter how hard it was. “Scarlett… she… she is dead.”

“What?” Björn looked at him in disbelief. “What the fuck are you talking about? Dead? Are you nuts? How could she be dead?” Björn’s face became red.

“I’m sorry.”

Shock was painted all over Bjorn’s face when he realized that his brother was serious. “Fuck!”

Lennart stood there and waited for the storm to subside.

But Björn only shook his head and left the room, shouting, “What the fuck?”

I guess he didn’t do it after all or am I getting too personal?

?

Lennart went to check on the progress of the autopsy and saw two people bent over the body when he entered the morgue.

“Good afternoon,” he approached the table. The man and a woman both raised their heads. “Good afternoon, Lennart.”

Lennart stopped at a safe distance, sensing the obvious difference in room temperature with the rest of the bunker. He glanced at Scarlett’s lifeless body and shifted his gaze to the pathologist. “Any new discoveries?”

“Unfortunately, no. Jonatan is still running tests, and I’m about to start working on her internal organs,” Elin answered, pausing her task. Her face was covered with a mask and glasses, and on her hands she had gloves reaching to her elbows. Her white coat glowed under the fluorescent light. Lennart grimaced at the scalpel and scissors in her hands. He was rarely present at an autopsy, maybe two or three times in his entire career.

“What about you?” Elin asked, her eyes on him.

“No progress for now. I’ll go check on Scarlett’s husband, to see if he’s ready to tell me everything he knows. I gave him some time to think.”

Elin raised her eyebrow. “Well, it’s your call. But personally, I wouldn’t give him time to breathe.”

“It’s not that simple.”

“I know. I’m just mad that something like this happened.”

“Believe me, me too. Well, I won’t disturb you anymore. Let me know as soon as you find anything new.”

“You’re saying that with confidence. Do you really think we’ll find a new clue or…?”

Lennart paused halfway to the door and turned back to face her. “I have a strange feeling that things are not what they seem like. But I may be wrong.”

Elin tilted her head to the side. “Hm…”

Lennart raised his hand, and this time left the room. He took the stairs to the floor above and found himself in the hall with confinement rooms. He approached the cell where Richard was imprisoned and greeted him through the bars.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Dover.”

Richard was lying on a small bed facing the wall. When Lennart’s words reached him, he answered without turning around. “Nothing’s good in all this mess.”

“Good point,” Lennart added. “But, for example, we could discover who killed your wife. That would be some positive news. No?”

“So, did you bring the news?”

“I’m still working on it,” Lennart said and hung his hand on the horizontal bar.

“Nothing good, it seems, after all.”