Chapter 11The room was empty of furniture save for a large wooden table and a few chairs. A cursory attempt had been made to clean it though this had consisted largely of brushing the dust into the air and allowing it to redistribute itself as it settled. As a result, swooping tangles of cobwebs that had been invisible for years across the high, curved ceiling were now weighted and thickened and all too visible, making the room look dingier than ever.
Dying daylight did little to improve the scene as it filtered in through two narrow windows and rendered pallid the light of two lamps, one on the stone mantelshelf which beetled over a cavernous and empty fireplace and one on the table.
This latter illuminated half of Nilsson’s face as he sat sideways on to the table, his shoulders hunched
