Chapter 25
Daniel hurries across the square with Hanna. They have just grabbed a quick hot dog for lunch, and now they are on the way to ?reg?rden Hotel, where Charlotte’s son, Filip, has checked in. He flew up this morning, but preferred not to stay at Copperhill, where his mother was murdered.
The snow sparkles as they approach the hotel.
The daylight is so bright that Daniel wishes he hadn’t left his sunglasses in the car.
The square is full of relaxed skiers, taking a lunch break in the spring sunshine.
Most food outlets have moved their operations outside because of the COVID restrictions, and a long line has formed at a pop-up bar.
In the middle is a guy wearing a bright-yellow chicken costume; his helmet is adorned with yellow Easter feathers sticking out from the top of his head.
Next to him is a girl in a white furry helmet with bunny ears.
Yesterday’s brutal murder doesn’t seem to have impacted the atmosphere around here.
Nor does the pandemic.
“Idiots,” he says, waving an arm in the direction of the crowd.
“They’re young and think they’re invincible,” Hanna points out.
“And presumably they’re from Stockholm,” Daniel replies with a grin.
As someone who was born and brought up in Sundsvall, he likes to remind Hanna that she is a blow-in from the capital. In return she calls him a country hick. They both love living in ?re, but they’re not quite so fond of the tourists.
As soon as they reach the hotel, the automatic glass doors slide open.
They are more or less the only modern feature on the facade.
The rest—the dark-brown wood paneling, the pillars on either side of the entrance, and the leaded windows in white and English red—look exactly the same as they have done for 125 years.
“Did you know that this place was built by a woman at the end of the nineteenth century?” Hanna says. “Imagine embarking on a project like that—in those days.”
Daniel did know. Kristina Hansson, who came from Sk?ne in the south, didn’t even have the right to vote when she started the construction of ?re’s first hotel.
“I guess she and Charlotte Wretlind would have had a lot to talk about,” Hanna goes on. “They both seem to have had tremendous drive.”
From what Daniel has heard about Charlotte so far, there seems little doubt that she was equipped with both stubbornness and a strong will. The question is—was it those qualities that led to her tragic death?
They walk into the foyer, and Daniel looks around for Filip; they have arranged to meet him here. He can’t imagine what the young man is going through right now. How do you even function after hearing news like that?
The responsibility for finding the killer feels like a heavy weight on his shoulders. He stares at the stuffed moose, which has stood in the entrance for as long as he can remember.
It stares back with sorrowful eyes, almost as if it is offering its heartfelt sympathy.