The Man from BeijingExcerpt: The Man From Beijing

by:BoomDear Wood     2020-03-10
Freezing snow, severe frost. Midwinter.
In early January 2006, a lone wolf crossed the unmarked border and entered Sweden from Vauldalen, Norway.
A snowmobile man thought that he might have caught a glimpse of it outside of Fishland, but before he could determine it, the wolf disappeared from the east tree.
In Norway\'s remote osteruna mountains, it found a frozen moose body with some meat left on its bones.
But that was more than two days ago.
It began to feel the pain of hunger and was desperately searching for food.
The wolf is a young male who has begun to find his own territory.
He continued to walk east.
In navajana, north of linsel, he found the body of another moose.
He stayed all day and was full before continuing his Eastbound Trek.
When he came to Cobb Basil, he trudged on the frozen Ljusnan and then headed down the winding River to the sea.
On a moonless night, he sat silently on the bridge of Jeff so, and then walked into the vast forest stretching to the coast.
In the early morning of January 13, the Wolf arrived at a small village south of Lake Hastings, Lake Hastings.
He paused and smelled the air.
He smelled blood.
He looked around.
Someone lived in the house, but no smoke came out of the chimney.
His sharp ears could not hear at all.
But the wolf has no doubt about blood.
He strolled along the edge of the forest and his nose was in the air.
Then he walked silently in the snow.
The smell came from a house at the end of Hamlet.
He\'s on guard now.
Care and patience are essential for those around you.
He paused again.
The smell came from behind the house. He waits.
Then finally start moving again.
When he got there, he found another body.
He dragged his big meal to the tree.
He was not found, not even the dog in the village.
The silence was complete on this cold morning.
When the wolf came to the edge of the woods, it began to eat.
It\'s easy because the meat is not frozen yet.
He is very hungry now.
After taking off his shoes, he began to chew his ankle.
It was snowing at night, but it stopped before dawn.
When the wolf was full, the snow began to dance to the frozen ground again.
When Karsten hoglin woke up, he remembered dreaming of a picture.
He lay still in bed and felt that the negative effects of his dream were slowly recovering as if a copy was being sent in his consciousness.
He recognized the painting.
It is black and white, depicting a man sitting on an old iron bed with a shotgun hanging on the wall and a chamber jar under his feet.
When he saw it for the first time, he was attracted by the smile the old man longed.
He was a little timid and evasive.
Karsten later discovered the background.
A few years ago, the man accidentally shot his only son while hunting seabirds.
Since then, the rifle never came down from the wall, and the man became a hermit.
Hoglin believes that of the thousands of photos and negatives he has seen, this is one he will never forget.
He wanted to take it himself.
The clock on his bedside table is 07:30.
Höglin usually wakes up early, but he didn\'t sleep well that night and the bed and mattress didn\'t feel well.
He made up his mind to complain about them when he checked out.
It was the ninth and last day of his journey.
The scholarship made it possible for him to study abandoned villages and other small settlements with reduced population.
He came to Hudiksvall and left a Hamlet to take pictures.
He chose the project because an old man who lived there had read his project and sent him a letter.
Höglin was impressed by the letter and decided it was the place where he ended his studies.
He got up and opened the curtains.
It\'s snowing at night, it\'s still gray, and the sun hasn\'t risen yet. A bundled-
The Woman Upstairs passed by bike on the street below.
Karsten considered her and wanted to know how cold the weather was.
Minus five degrees Celsius, maybe seven degrees Celsius.
He wears his clothes and takes his time.
Move the elevator to reception
He parked his car in a closed yard behind the hotel.
It\'s safe there.
Still, he took all the photographic equipment to the room as he practiced.
His worst nightmare was to come to his car one day and find all his cameras gone.
The receptionist is a young girl who hasn\'t come out in her teens.
He noticed that her makeup was casual and gave up the idea of complaining about the bed.
After all, he never intended to return to the hotel.
In the breakfast room, some guests were absorbed in their morning paper.
He wanted to take a photo with a camera.
This made him feel that Sweden has always been like this.
Silent people browse the newspaper with a cup of coffee and immerse themselves in their thoughts and destiny.
But he resisted the temptation, served himself coffee, two slices of bread with butter, and stuffed it in soft bread. boiled egg.
He ate fast without newspapers.
He hates eating alone and has nothing to read.
When he came out of the hotel, it was colder than he thought.
He tipto picked up his toes and read the thermometer in the reception window.
Minus eleven degrees
He suspected he had fallen.
It\'s too warm this winter.
This is the cold weather we have been looking forward.
He put the case in the back seat, started the engine and started scraping ice from the windshield.
There is a map on the passenger seat.
The day before, after taking pictures of a village not far from Lake hassella, he figured out how to get to his last port of call: head south to the main road, close in the direction of sörforsa near Iggesund, and then follow the east or west coast of the lake called storsjn in some places, while others follow the lngsjn.
On the way to Hudiksvall, the man at the gas station warned him that the East Road was not good, but he decided to go.
This will be faster.
The light is very good this winter morning.
He could have imagined the smoke of the sky straight from the chimney.
It took him forty minutes to get there.
By that time, he had turned the wrong corner, a road leading south to enksco.
Heshvaren is located in a Hill Valley by the lake. he can\'t remember his name. Hesjön, maybe?
The dense forest extends all the way to Hamlet, on both sides of the narrow road leading to hasselen.
Karsten stopped at the edge of the small village and got off the bus.
Now there are cracks in the clouds.
The light will become more difficult to capture and perhaps less expressive.
He looked around.
Everything was calm.
These houses give the impression that they have been there since ancient times.
In the distance, he could hear the faint traffic noise on the main road.
He suddenly felt uneasy.
He held his breath, just like when faced with something he didn\'t really understand.
Then he got it.
Chimney, frozen.
There is no sign of smoking, which will be a valid feature of the photos he wants to take.
His eyes slowly moved from house to house.
Some people have cleared the snow, he thought.
But there was no fire?
He remembered the letter from the man who told him about the village.
He mentioned the chimneys and how the houses seemed to send smoke signals to each other in a childish way. He sighed.
It\'s not the truth that people write, it\'s what they think you want to read.
Now should I take pictures with a cold chimney or give up the whole business?
No one forced him to take pictures of hershjovron and his residents.
He already has a lot of photos of Sweden that are disappearing: abandoned farms, remote villages, the only hope of survival for the Danish and Germans is to buy these houses and turn them into summer houses.
He decided to leave and go back to his car.
But he did not start the engine.
He\'s gone so far.
The least he can do is draw some portraits of local residents. He wants faces.
As the years passed, Karsten hoglin became more and more fascinated by the elderly.
He wanted to make up an album: describe the beautiful photos only found on the faces of very old women whose lives and hardships were engraved on their skin like deposits on cliff walls.
He came out of the car again, pulled his fur hat down and put it on his ear, picked a Leica M6 that he had been using for the past decade, and prepared for the nearest group of houses.
There are ten in total, most of them are wood and painted red, and some are extra stoops.
He could only see a modern house.
If it can still be called modern, it\'s-
An independent House of 1950 square meters.
When he came to the gate, he stopped and raised the camera.
The nameplate says that the Andon family lives there.
He took a few photos, changed the aperture settings and exposure time, tried several angles, and although it was clear that there was not enough light yet, he would only blur.
But you never know.
Photographers sometimes reveal unexpected secrets.
Hoglin is very intuitive about his work.
It\'s not that he doesn\'t bother to measure the level of light when needed, but sometimes he gets surprising results without paying attention to carefully calculating the exposure time.
Improvisation and territory.
The door is stiff.
He had to push hard in order to open it.
There are no footprints in the new snow.
There is no sound to a dog.
There is no one here, he thought.
This is not a village;
A Flying Dutchman.
He knocked on the front door, waited, and then knocked again. Nothing.
He began to wonder what had happened.
Something wrong.
He knocked again, getting harder and harder.
Then he tried the door handle. Locked.
The old man was easily frightened, he thought.
They lock the door and worry that everything they read in the newspaper will happen to them.
He hit the door. Nothing.
He concluded that there must be no one at home.
He went back to the house next door through the gate.
Now it\'s getting lighter.
The house is painted yellow.
The putty around the window fell off.
It must be very ventilated inside.
He tried the door handle before knocking on the door. Locked again.
He knocked hard and then started banging even before anyone had no time to answer.
Again, empty.
If he were to return to his car now, he would return to Peto\'s house earlier in the afternoon.
His wife will be very happy.
Although he is only 60 years old, she is sure that he is too old to start all these tripsthree.
But he was diagnosed with symptoms of an imminent attack.
The doctor advised him to pay attention to what he ate and exercise as much as possible. One last try.
He went to the back of the house and tried a door that seemed to lead to the glove room behind the kitchen.
Also locked.
He went to the nearest window and tipto looked inside with his toes.
He could see a room with a TV through the gap between the curtains.
He went on to the next window.
This is the same room. he can also see the TV.
The tapestry hanging on the wall tells him that Jesus is your best friend.
Something on the local board caught his attention as he was about to go to the next window.
At first he thought it was a ball of wool lying there.
Then he saw that it was a wool sock with socks at 1 feet.
He took a step back from the window.
His heart was pounding.
Is it really 1 feet?
He went back to the first window, but from there he could not see how far the room was.
He went to the second window.
Now he\'s sure.
It\'s really 1 feet.
A still foot
He is not sure whether he is a man or a woman.
The owner of the foot may be sitting in a chair.
It\'s hard to identify-
But if that\'s the case, why didn\'t this person move?
He knocked hard at the window without any reaction.
He took out his cell phone and dialed the emergency phone. No signal.
He ran to the third house and slammed the door. Nothing.
He felt like he was in a nightmare.
He picked up the scraper of 1 feet, smashed the door lock and forced into it.
He needs a call.
There was an old woman lying on the kitchen floor.
Her head was almost completely cut off from her neck.
The body of a dog lying next to her was cut in half.
Hoglin turned and fled screaming.
As he crossed the hall, he saw the body of a man lying on the floor of the living room, between the table and a red sofa, with a white throw ball on his body.
The old man was naked.
His back was covered with blood.
Hoglin rushed out of the house.
He did not run fast enough.
When he got to the road, he put down the camera but did not stop to pick it up.
He is sure that people or things he can\'t see will stab him in the back.
He drove the car away.
When he got to the main road, he stopped and then dialed the emergency number, and his hand trembled involuntarily.
When he lifted the phone to his ear, he felt a sharp pain in his chest.
It seems that someone caught him and stabbed him.
He can hear someone talking to him on the phone, but he can\'t answer.
The pain he suffered was so great that he could only make a faint hissing sound.
\"I can\'t hear you,\" said a woman\'s voice . \". He tried again.
Once again there was only a faint hissing sound. He was dying.
\"Can you speak louder?
Asked the woman.
\"I don\'t understand what you\'re talking about.
He made his best efforts and made a few words.
\"I\'m going to die,\" he said, panting.
\"For God\'s sake, I\'m going to die. Help me.
\"Where are you?
But the woman did not receive any reply.
Karsten hoglin is entering the endless darkness.
He tried desperately to escape from the extreme pain, as a drowning man tried in vain to surface, and he stepped on the accelerator.
The car fired a shot at the other side of the road.
On the way to Hudiksvall, a truck carrying office furniture had no chance of avoiding the head --on collision.
The truck driver jumped down from the cab to check the driver of the car he hit.
Hoglin leaned over the steering wheel.
Truck drivers from Bosnia can hardly speak Swedish. “How is you? ” he asked.
\"The village,\" muttered Karsten Hoglin. “Hesjövallen.
This is his last sentence.
When police and ambulances arrived, Karsten hoglin had died of a heart attack.
It is not clear what happened.
No one can guess why people behind the deep blue Volvo steering wheel suddenly had a heart attack.
It was not until Karsten hoglin\'s body was taken away that two trucks were trying to rescue the badly damaged furniture van that a police officer had bothered to listen to the Bosnian driver.
The official\'s name is Eric Harden and he doesn\'t like to talk to people who speak bad Swedish unless he is forced.
If they can\'t express their story properly, it\'s as if their story is less important.
Naturally, police officers began to analyze their breath with alcohol.
But the driver is sober and his driver\'s license seems to be normal.
\"He tried to say something,\" said the truck driver . \". “What?
Harden asked disdainfully.
\"Some things about hero.
Maybe a place?
Harden shook his head impatiently as a native.
\"There is no place called hero here.
\"Maybe I heard it wrong?
Could it be something with s? Maybe Hersjö? ”“Hesjövallen?
The driver nodded.
\"Yes, that\'s what he said.
\"What does he mean ? \"”“I don’t know. He died.
Harden put away his notebook.
He did not write down what the driver said.
Half an hour later, as two trucks drove away and another police car took the Bosnian driver to the station for more questioning, Hurn got on the bus and was ready to return to Hudiksvall.
His colleague, Leif ytterström, was driving with him.
\"Let\'s go through hershvaren,\" said Hood suddenly. “Why?
Is there an emergency call?
\"I just wanted to check.
Eric hudden is the older of the two military officers.
As we all know, he is neither talkative nor stubborn.
Ytterström turned on his way to sörforsa.
When they came to hershvaren Hudon, let him drive slowly through the village.
He still did not explain to his colleagues why they made a detour.
\"It looks very cold,\" said ytterström. “Hang on.
\"Go back,\" said hudden. “Slowly.
Then he called Itteren to stop.
What one of the houses was lying in the snow caught his attention.
He got off the bus to investigate.
He stopped suddenly and pulled out his gun.
Itteren jumped out of the car and pulled out his gun.
\"What\'s going on?
Harden did not reply.
He walked forward carefully.
Then he paused again and bent down as if he suddenly felt a pain in his chest.
Eric Harden\'s face was white when he got back to the car.
\"There was a dead man lying there,\" he said . \".
\"He was killed.
Something is missing.
\"What do you mean?
\"One of his legs.
They stood there and stared at each other without speaking.
Then Hurd boarded the car, picked up the radio and asked for Vivi Sandberg, who knew he was on duty that day.
She responded immediately. “Erik here.
I\'m in hersheuvron.
\"What happened? ”“I don’t know.
But a man died in the snow.
\"Say it again. ”“A dead man. In the snow.
He seems to have been killed.
One of his legs is missing.
They know each other very well.
Sandberg knows that no matter how incredible it is, Eric hudden won\'t exaggerate.
\"We will go,\" Sandberg said . \"
\"Find a forensic doctor from gavle.
\"Who are you? ”“Ytterström.
She thought for a moment.
\"Is there any reasonable explanation for what happened?
\"I have never seen such a thing before.
He knew she would understand.
He has been a police officer for a long time and there is no real limit to the pain and violence he is forced to face. It was thirty-
Five minutes ago, they heard a siren from a distance.
Hurn tried to convince Itteren to accompany him to the nearest house so they could talk to their neighbors, but his colleagues refused to move before the reinforcements arrived.
Since hudden did not want to enter the house alone, they stayed by the car.
They said nothing when they waited.
Vivi Sundberg came out of the first car parked next to them.
She is strong in her fifties.
Everyone who knows her knows that although her body is bulky, she is very flexible and has considerable stamina.
Just a few months ago, she chased two thieves in her twenties.
They laughed at her when they started to run away.
When she arrested the two of them after a few hundred yards, they stopped laughing.
Vivi Sundberg\'s hair is red.
She goes to her daughter\'s hair salon four times a year, and the bloodshot is enhanced.
She was born on a farm outside hameng and has been taking care of her parents until they get older and eventually die.
A few years later, she began to teach herself and applied to the police academy.
She was surprised to be admitted.
Given the size of her body, no one can explain why she came in;
But no one asked any questions and she said nothing.
Vivi Sundberg is a diligent police officer.
When it comes to analysis and follow-up, she perseveres and performs well.
She pulled her hair open with one hand and looked hard at Eric Holden.
\"Well, will you show it to me?
They walked up to the body.
Sandbagra squatted with a face.
\"Is the doctor here?
\"She\'s on the road. ”“She?
\"Hugo has a submarine.
He\'s going to have surgery. A tumor.
Vivi Sundberg has temporarily lost interest in the body lying in the snow. “Is he ill?
\"He has cancer.
Don\'t you know? ”“No. Where?
\"In his stomach.
Apparently it did not spread.
Anyway, he has a submarine from upsara.
Her name is Valentina mi.
If I\'m right
Harden shouted to etteren, who was sitting next to one of the cars for coffee.
He confirmed that the police doctor was here at any time.
Sandberg began to examine the body carefully.
Whenever she faces a body, she is conquered by the same meaningless feeling.
She was unable to awaken the deceased, and the best thing she could do was to expose the cause of the crime and send the murderer to prison or to a mental hospital.
\"Someone went crazy,\" she said . \"
\"With a long knife. Or a bayonet.
Maybe a sword.
I can see at least ten wounds, and almost all of them can be fatal.
But I don\'t understand. that leg\'s gone.
Do we know who that person is? ”“Not yet.
All the houses seem empty.
Sandberg stood up and looked around the village.
The house seemed to turn her eyes back.
\"Did you knock on the door?
\"I think I should wait.
Whoever did it may still be there. ”“You’re right.
She waved to ytterström, who threw his empty cardboard cup into the snow.
\"Let\'s go in,\" she said . \"
\"There must be someone around.
This is not a ghost town.
\"There is no sign of anyone.
Sandberg looked at the house again and it was snowing --
Across the garden, across the road.
She pulled out her pistol and set out towards the nearest house.
Two people followed.
It was only a few minutes after eleven.
The discovery of the three police officers is unprecedented in the history of Swedish crime and will be part of Swedish legal history.
There are bodies in every house.
Dogs and cats were stabbed to death, and even a parrot was cut off.
They found a total of 19 dead people, all of whom were old except for a boy about 12 years old.
Some people were killed while sleeping in bed;
Others lay on the floor or on chairs sitting on the kitchen table.
An old woman died, holding a comb in her hand, and a man sat by the fire with a flipped coffee pot next to him.
In a house they found two people locked together and tied together.
All of us suffered crazy violence.
It\'s like blood-
When the old man who lived there got up, a full hurricane hit the village.
Since older people in the country tend to get up early, Sandberg believes the murder took place near the sunrise.
Vivi Sundberg felt her whole head was drowning in blood.
She dispelled her anger but felt cold.
It\'s like she\'s looking at the body with a telescope, which means she doesn\'t need to be too close.
Then the smell.
Although the bodies were hardly cold, they had given off a sweet and sour smell.
While in the House, Sandberg tried to breathe with his mouth.
The moment she walked outside, there was fresh air in her lungs.
Crossing the threshold of the house next door is like preparing to face something almost unbearable.
Everything she saw, one body after another, witnessed the same frenzy and the same wounds caused by very sharp weapons.
Later that day, she made a list that she had never disclosed to anyone, including a brief note she had seen: House one.
The dead old man, half naked, his pajamas, his slippers, half lying on the stairs.
The head is almost separated from the body, and the left thumb is 3 feet away from the body.
Dead elderly women, nightdress, cracked belly, hanging intestines, broken teeth.
House number two
At least 80 men and women are dead.
Body found on the double bed on the first floor
The woman may have been killed in her sleep, with a slash on her left shoulder and chest to the right hip.
The man tried to protect himself with a hammer, but one arm was cut off and the throat was cut off.
It is worth noting that the body is tied together.
It gives the impression that the man is still alive when bound, but the woman is dead.
Of course, there is no evidence, just an immediate response.
A little boy who died in a small bedroom
May have fallen asleep when killed.
House number three
The lonely woman who died on the kitchen floor
A dog of unknown origin was stabbed to death by her side.
The woman\'s spine seems to have broken in more than one place.
House four
Dead in the hall.
Wear trousers and shirts; barefoot.
Probably trying to resist.
The body was almost cut in half by the stomach.
The old lady sitting in the kitchen died.
There could be two or three wounds on her head.
House 7
Two elderly women and an elderly man died in bed upstairs.
Impression: they are sober, conscious, but have no time to react.
The cat was stabbed to death in the kitchen.
House 8
The old man lying outside was dead and a leg was missing.
Two dogs were beheaded.
The woman who died on the stairs was cut into pieces.
House nine
Four people died in the living room on the first floor.
Wear half the clothes, have a cup of coffee, turn on the radio, the first one.
Three elderly women, one elderly man.
Their heads are on their knees.
House Ten
Two very old people, a man and a woman, died in their beds.
It\'s impossible to say if they know what\'s going on.
At the end of her list, she had no mental power to record all the details.
Nevertheless, what she sees is an unforgettable sight of the Hell itself.
She numbered the house according to the discovery of the body.
This is not the same as their location on the road.
When they came to the fifth house in a terrible inspection, they found signs of life.
They could hear the music from the house.
Ytterström thinks it sounds like Jimi Hendrix.
Before going in, they called two other officers for backup.
They approached the front door-pistols drawn.
Harden hit it hard.
Half opened. naked, long-haired man.
Seeing all the guns, he retreated in horror.
She dropped the pistol when Vivi Sundberg saw him unarmed.
\"Are you at home alone?
\"My wife is here too,\" said the man, with a trembling voice. “Nobody else? ”“No.
What\'s going on?
Sundberg motioned others with a pistol to do the same.
\"Let\'s go in,\" she said to half --
Cold naked man
\"What\'s your name? ”“Tom.
\"What else? ”“Hansson.
\"Come on, Tom Hansen, let\'s go in.
Come out of the cold
\"The music is very loud.
Sundberg gives the impression that there are speakers in every room.
She followed the man into a cluttered living room, and a woman in her pajamas curled up on the sofa.
He shut down the music and put on a pair of trousers hanging on the back of the chair.
Hansen and the woman on the sofa are about 60 years old.
\"What happened?
The lady asked, she was obviously scared and spoke with a strong Stockholm accent.
Probably a hippie in his 60 s.
Sunderberg decided not to turn around,
No time to waste-
It is possible who is responsible for this atrocity, and he may be carrying out another massacre.
\"Many of your neighbors are dead,\" Sundberg said . \".
\"A terrible crime happened in this small village overnight.
It is important to answer our questions.
What\'s your name?
\"Nini,\" said the woman.
\"Is Herman and Hilda dead?
\"Where do they live?
\"In the House on the left.
Sandberg nodded.
\"Yes, I\'m afraid so.
They were murdered.
But they are not the only ones.
\"If that\'s what you\'re joking about, it\'s not a good joke,\" said Tom Hansen . \".
Sandberg lost his cool for a short time.
\"I\'m sorry we only have time for you to answer my question.
I can understand that what you think I told you looks incredible, but it\'s true --
Terrible, but it\'s true.
Did you hear anything last night?
The man sat on the sofa next to the woman.
\"We fell asleep.
\"Did you hear anything this morning?
They all shook their heads.
\"Didn\'t you notice that this place is full of police?
\"When we play music loudly, we hear nothing.
\"When was the last time you saw your neighbor?
\"If you mean Herman and Hilda, yesterday,\" said Ninni . \".
\"When we go out with dogs, we usually run into each other.
\"Do you have a dog ? \"
Tom Hansen nodded in the direction of the kitchen.
\"He is old and lazy.
He was too lazy to even get up when we had visitors.
\"Didn\'t he bark at night?
\"He never barks.
\"When did you meet your neighbor?
\"About 3 yesterday. But only Hilda.
\"Does everything seem to be the same as usual?
\"She has pain in her back.
Herman may solve the crossword game in the kitchen.
I didn\'t see him.
\"What about the other people in the village?
\"Everything is as usual.
Only the old man lives here.
They stayed indoors when the weather was cold.
We often see them in spring and summer.
\"So, are there no children here? ”“None at all.
Sundberg paused and remembered the dead boy.
\"Is this really the case?
Asked the woman on the sofa.
She was scared.
\"Yes,\" Sandberg said.
\"It is likely that everyone in this village is dead. Apart from you.
Harden stood by the window.
\"Not everyone,\" he said slowly . \"
\"What do you mean?
\"Not everyone is dead.
Someone is outside on the road.
Sun Deburg hurried to the window and saw a woman standing on the road outside.
She was old and dressed in bathrobes and black rubber boots.
She clasped her hands while praying.
Sandberg held his breath.
The woman did not move.
Hardcover version.
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