Chapter 59
Footsteps on the stairs reveal that William is on his way. Daniel has concluded the interview with Pontus, and is waiting in the study for William to arrive.
The young man closes the door behind him and sinks down in the cognac-colored armchair that Pontus has just vacated. He has showered and changed into jeans and a short-sleeved top. His dark hair is combed back, still damp at the nape of his neck. He leans toward Daniel, his jawline tense.
“My father says you have no right to conduct a house search with no warning.”
“Believe me, under the circumstances, we do.”
“We weren’t even home.”
Emil was in the house, but Daniel doesn’t bother pointing out that William should be pleased about that, because otherwise the police would have broken down the door.
“I have a few more questions about Saturday evening,” he says instead. “Can you tell me who was still in the living room when you went to bed?”
William clamps his lips together so tightly that Daniel wonders if he is going to refuse to cooperate, but eventually he opens his mouth.
“Let’s see . . . Pontus, Filippa, and Amir. The others had already gone to their rooms.”
“So you decided to do the same? Tell me exactly what happened.”
“Nothing special.”
“Tell me exactly what you did. Step by step, if you can.”
William looks confused, no doubt wondering why he is being asked for such a detailed account. He probably doesn’t realize that Daniel is looking for differences in the boys’ statements. Those tiny cracks that appear when something isn’t right.
However, he does as he is asked.
“So first I went into the bathroom and brushed my teeth. Then I got undressed; then I got into bed and went to sleep.”
“Did it take long?”
“Maybe five, ten minutes?”
Daniel tries to visualize the layout of the house.
William’s bedroom, the master bedroom, is right next door to the living room, with its own en suite bathroom.
The building is largely made of wood, and Daniel knows from experience how easily sounds can be heard through wooden walls, even though they may look sturdy. If a disagreement had broken out between Filippa and one of the other boys, William should have been aware of it from his bedroom.
“I’m wondering if you might have heard something out of the ordinary from the living room after you’d gone to bed?”
“What do you mean by out of the ordinary?” William asks after a pause that is slightly too long.
Daniel finds it hard to believe that he doesn’t understand, but provides an explanation just to be on the safe side.
“I’m thinking of loud or angry voices. People arguing, maybe pieces of furniture being knocked over?
I wonder if your friends might have gotten into an argument after you’d left the room? ”
“I didn’t hear anything like that.”
“Are you sure?”
“I told you!” William frowns, as if he isn’t used to anyone doubting what he says. Daniel senses that this young man is used to others fitting in with him. He expects positive acknowledgment, not pressure or criticism.
Something to bear in mind.
“I’m a heavy sleeper,” William goes on. “So I can’t swear it didn’t happen, but I didn’t hear anyone arguing or yelling at each other.”
“What was the atmosphere like when you left your friends?”
“Good.”
“And you didn’t notice anything unusual?”
“No.”
Daniel feels as if he is having to drag every single word out of William, and he is growing tired of his attitude. How hard can it be to show a little willingness to cooperate?
“Can you give me a few more details on your perception of how the evening went?”
“We had a good time. Emil had made an excellent dinner—he’s a brilliant cook. Then we played Truth or Consequences, and everyone got pretty drunk. Especially Filippa.”
“And how was the atmosphere when you went to bed?”
“Okay, but maybe kind of subdued, because everyone was getting sleepy. And it was late, around two in the morning—we had to be up reasonably early to go skiing.”
Daniel has no reason to doubt what William says, so he decides to change tack.
“We’ve found out that Filippa had sex with one of you on the evening before she died. We need to know who that was.”
“Wow.” Finally a reaction from William. He lifts his chin, grips the arm of the chair.
“Was it you?” Daniel’s tone is deliberately brusque.
“What?”
“Did you have sex with Filippa?”
“Of course not!” The answer is immediate.
“Why not?”
“Because . . . because me and Olivia have a thing . . .”
William actually blushes, and Daniel waits to see if he is going to continue. Sometimes silence is better than a series of follow-up questions.
But William says nothing.
“So who do you think it might have been?”
William shifts his position in the armchair, his eyes dart around the room. “I’ve no idea, but it wasn’t me.”