Chapter 16
Daniel is facing the window in the conference room at Copperhill. Hanna has gone to the bathroom, so he is alone. Images of the murdered woman flicker through his mind following the visit to the Silver Suite.
He rubs his hand over his short beard.
A terrible crime has been committed, and they now have to do their best to solve it, even though resources are as limited as they were a year ago.
He hopes their boss, Birgitta Grip, will have a plan to fix the staffing issue; otherwise he doesn’t know how they are going to manage yet another demanding investigation.
His gloomy thoughts are interrupted as the door is flung open and a man aged about fifty appears. He is wearing an elegant camel-hair coat and a dark suit, and has an air of authority and gravitas.
He runs his right hand over his thick silvery-gray hair.
“Are you the officer in charge?” he says before Daniel has time to react. “I came as soon as I heard about Charlotte. I can’t get my head around it. Who would do such a thing? Here, at a top hotel?”
The questions come so fast that Daniel has no chance of answering them. He gets up and stands opposite the man, who is about the same height as him—around six feet.
He manages to hide his irritation. “And you are . . . ?”
He doesn’t want to be unpleasant, but would have appreciated it if the man had knocked before bursting in. What if there had been a sensitive interview going on?
“My apologies.” The stranger takes a deep breath. “I’m so shaken up. My name is Henry Sylvester—I’m Charlotte’s business partner.”
Daniel remembers that the victim’s associate was on his way to ?re from Stockholm. Good—that means they can start looking into her business affairs.
“Please take a seat.”
“I flew up to attend the press conference this afternoon.” Henry puts down his briefcase. “I got a newsflash on the way from the airport, and then I heard what had happened.” He falls silent, takes a deep breath. “It’s terrible.”
At that moment Hanna returns. She looks at Henry, who is still standing. Clearly agitated, he introduces himself to her.
“It’s good that you’re here,” she says immediately. “Can we ask you some questions right away?”
“Of course—ask whatever you like.”
Daniel studies Henry as he sits down on the opposite side of the table. His face is pale, and he runs a hand over his hair once again, as if he needs to keep his hands occupied.
“Can I see Charlotte?” His voice is unsteady.
Daniel would like to explain that this would be a bad idea. Seeing Charlotte’s body was difficult even for experienced police officers like him and Hanna. He would prefer to spare Henry that ordeal.
“Not at the moment, I’m afraid. The technicians are still working on the scene.”
Hanna pours Henry a glass of water. “How close were you and Charlotte?”
“We’ve known each other all our lives. Our fathers were good friends, and our families spent time together. For example we all celebrated Christmas in Storlien together for many years.”
Storlien, Daniel thinks. That word keeps on coming up.
“Could you tell us about your project? We’ve heard that a great deal of money is going to be plowed into the new mountain hotel. Have you been on board from the start?”
“To be honest, I don’t usually get involved in that kind of property project, but Charlotte was very keen and managed to convince me in the end. She’s wanted to do this for years, but had problems securing the finance. In the end she persuaded my company to provide capital.”
Daniel notices the expensive watch Henry is wearing. A Patek Philippe—of course a man like him will have a wristwatch worth a small fortune.
It is tempting to judge, but he wants to be careful. After all these years, he has learned that people are not one dimensional, they are neither black nor white. In fact most exist in a gray zone, with layer upon layer of character attributes that are not always obvious at first glance.
Even a brutal abuser of women can be nice to small children. A cold-blooded gang member can go and visit his mom on Mother’s Day.
“It wasn’t easy to say no to Charlotte,” Henry continues. “Not when she’d decided on something. If you’d met her, you’d understand.” He falls silent and looks away, as if the agonizing reality of the situation is sinking in. “Oh God, I can’t believe she’s been stabbed.”
Daniel notes that Henry knows how the murder was committed. Then again, it’s hard to keep something like that under wraps. No doubt the poor maintenance guy who found the body told other people as well as the hotel manager, and the news would have spread like wildfire.
Hanna leans forward. “So why was the hotel in Storlien so important to your partner? What was so special about it?”
Henry doesn’t answer immediately. He presses his fingertips together, forming an inverted V shape with his hands.
“Well, it might not look like much today, but years ago it was different. It was like celebrating Christmas in the Snow Queen’s palace.
When I was little it was a magical place that I dreamed of for the rest of the year.
A winter’s tale full of snow, sparkling garlands, and the aromas of saffron, cloves, and cinnamon. ”
Henry’s eyes are filled with nostalgia. He seems to be overcome by his childhood memories. For a moment his face softens, and Daniel can almost see the little boy happily racing toward the Christmas tree with all the beautifully wrapped presents underneath.
“I don’t think I’ve ever loved Christmas as much as during those years when we went to Storlien,” he goes on. “Charlotte was an important part of that experience.”
His voice is thick with tears.
“I understand,” Hanna says gently. “But where did the idea of building a completely new hotel on the site come from? I believe it’s been empty for a long time, and it’s decades since it was a famous ski resort.”
“I think Charlotte wanted to fulfill a dream. Or maybe it was her father’s dream.”
“Why was it so important to her?”
Henry takes off his camel-hair coat and places it on the chair beside him.
“Charlotte was her daddy’s girl.” He sounds deeply sad.
“She constantly sought his approval. Curt—that was his name—often urged her to make something of her own, something that would last. He was an entrepreneur in the restaurant industry and had a lot of opinions on how things should be done. At some point during all those visits to Storlien, I guess he began to think that he might take over the hotel. Gradually, as time went by, it became about creating a magnificent new establishment in the mountains. He never succeeded himself, but he passed on the idea to the next generation.”
“What was the relationship like between father and daughter?” Hanna wonders.
Henry reaches for the glass of water and takes a sip. Daniel notices that he doesn’t answer right away.
“I don’t want to speak ill of the dead, but Curt was . . . a hard character. He regarded his children as an extension of himself rather than as independent individuals. It had a lasting effect on his daughter, if I can put it that way.”
“You can put it however you like,” Hanna replies.
Daniel makes a note, then meets the businessman’s gaze again.
“Can you give us an example of what you said about Charlotte’s father?”
“Where do I begin?” Henry’s expression is resigned.
“Charlotte and I studied at the Stockholm School of Economics together. She almost didn’t get in—she wasn’t quite up to the standards they set.
Eventually it worked out, she was accepted as the last reserve candidate, but until then she was devastated.
Curt would never have approved of anywhere else.
Reading economics at an ordinary university wasn’t good enough—only the elite institution would do.
Charlotte placed high demands on herself, and that came from her father. ”
He shakes his head at the memory.
“I have to say that he could be very entertaining, and he was an excellent businessman. He helped me at the start of my career. But he wouldn’t have won a prize as daddy of the year. He was more like the patriarch in Succession, if you know what I mean?”
Daniel gives a brief nod. He hasn’t seen the TV series, but he’s heard that it’s about four siblings fighting to gain the approval of their ice-cold father.
He is also well aware that the nuclear family isn’t the answer to everything. If it were, then his relationship with Ida shouldn’t be so complicated.
Henry rubs his forehead and sighs. “This is so difficult to take in.”
“How about brothers and sisters?” Daniel asks.
“She had a younger brother, but he passed away a few years ago. He developed problems with alcohol at a young age, and eventually his liver gave up. There wasn’t exactly a supportive atmosphere in that family . . .”
He doesn’t elaborate, but the meaning is clear. Growing up in the Wretlind family seems to have been quite difficult, in spite of those magical Christmases in the mountains.
Hanna glances at Daniel, as if to indicate that she would like to change the subject. He nods—he trusts her intuition.
“How come you decided to invest in Charlotte’s project?”
“To be honest, I was her last resort. I know she’d tried other investors, but they’d turned her down. She swore it would be profitable and I wouldn’t be disappointed.”
Henry breaks off and clears his throat.
“I said no to begin with. During the course of the journey, there have been times when I’ve wished I’d stuck to my guns, bearing in mind how much money we’re talking about. The costs have already increased considerably, and we haven’t even started demolishing the old complex.”
“And yet you provided the capital,” Hanna points out.
“Like I said, Charlotte didn’t take no for an answer, and I guess I got a little sentimental, remembering our childhood Christmases. And she was stubborn—once she’d made a decision, there was no stopping her. Whatever the cost.”
“And how did people react? It sounds like a recipe for making enemies.”
The ringtone of Henry’s phone interrupts them. He takes it out of his jacket pocket, glances at the screen, and rejects the call before placing it on the table.
“Enemies?” he repeats.
Most people have enemies, Daniel thinks. Especially if they work in a tough industry, like Charlotte. However, it rarely leads to murder, especially not in such a brutal way.
He gazes at Henry across the table. The financier is lost in thought, it’s impossible to guess what’s going on in his mind. Despite the shocking situation, he seems composed now. Maybe he is used to keeping his emotions in check after years working in business.
“Obviously Charlotte had her differences with some people,” Henry says. “She wasn’t exactly the kind of person who panders to anyone.”
Hanna frowns. “Could you be a little more specific? Do you know individuals she’d fallen out with?”
“Unfortunately that would be a very long list.”
“Are you thinking of anyone in particular?”
Henry gives a half smile. “I don’t really want to name names—isn’t that something the police should be looking into?”
Daniel glances at his watch; it is almost six o’clock in the evening. They need to go back to the station to run through the day, and to link up with ?stersund. Grip has messaged to say that she wants a debrief as soon as possible.
“What happens with the Storlien project now?” Hanna asks Henry. “Will you be taking it forward now that Charlotte is gone?”
Henry picks up his phone and puts it in his pocket.
“It was all built on Charlotte’s driving force,” he says with a certain weariness in his voice. “She was the engine. Her vision was key.”
“So does that mean the plans will be canceled now she’s dead?” Hanna persists.
“I can’t answer that. It’s way too soon.”
Daniel isn’t letting go either. “But if the scheme were to be ditched, then doesn’t that mean you wouldn’t have to invest all those millions?”
Henry is clearly irritated. “I don’t understand where you’re going with this.” His tone is suddenly razor sharp. “Are you insinuating that I stand to gain from Charlotte’s death?”