Chapter 17
A camera flash goes off as Daniel and Hanna make their way down the stairs to the hotel foyer a little while later.
Daniel gives a start and stops on the bottom step. Hanna is a short distance ahead of him. When he looks around, he sees a gaggle of photographers by the reception desk.
Charlotte’s press conference. The journalists have a completely different sensation to write about.
Someone points to Daniel, and a man in his early thirties with short blond hair comes hurrying over, full of self-importance. He is holding a microphone bearing the logo of one of the big TV stations. The mic is on the end of a long boom, which he holds out toward Daniel.
“What can you tell us about the homicide?” he says challengingly.
Daniel holds up one hand. “We have no comment at this stage.”
The TV journalist ignores the rebuff—in fact, it seems to spur him on.
“A woman has been found stabbed to death in one of the hotel rooms,” he continues in the same hectoring tone. “What can you tell us about the situation we’re facing?”
“I’m sorry, I can’t comment on that right now.”
The other man comes closer. “Do you have any suspects?”
Meanwhile, most of the other reporters have realized that they have a senior police officer in front of them. They too hurry over and surround Daniel, holding up their microphones.
There are too many of them, and they are too close. Daniel tries to back away, but there is nowhere to go.
There are people everywhere.
The blond guy is so close that Daniel can smell his breath.
“Are any hotel employees involved?”
It is suffocatingly hot, Daniel can hardly breathe. It is becoming harder and harder not to lose control.
“Enough!” he yells. “I’ve already said I can’t comment!”
Without thinking he lashes out with one hand. The movement is more violent than he had intended. He catches the arm of the microphone and knocks it over the banister onto the stone floor. The volume in the foyer immediately shoots up, there are horrified exclamations from the pack of journalists.
“What are you doing?” the reporter shouts.
Suddenly Hanna pushes her way through. She grabs Daniel by the arm and drags him through the crowd.
“There will be a press conference later, when you will be given more information,” she calls over her shoulder. “Right now you’ll have to excuse us.”
She manages to get Daniel out into the fresh air, and doesn’t stop until they are at least ten yards from the entrance.
It is such a relief to get out of there.
Daniel takes several deep breaths. He is so angry that his entire body is shaking.
He can’t understand why he had such a strong reaction.
After many months of therapy, he thought he had his emotions in check.
Over the past year he hasn’t lost his temper once, either at home or at work.
“Are you okay?” Hanna asks sympathetically.
“I’m fine.”
She waves a hand in the direction of the reporter, who is still standing in the foyer.
“I don’t understand how he can behave so disrespectfully. We’re talking about a murdered woman here, not some sleazy celebrity scandal.”
Daniel turns and sees the guy staring at them. The anger that was beginning to subside comes back like a tsunami.
His blood is boiling.
That’s when he realizes. That journalist reminds him of his father.