Chapter 47
Just over an hour later Jarmo, the dog handler, appears in the hotel foyer, dressed in a thick black jacket and a knitted hat.
Hanna goes over to greet him. His sand-colored Belgian Malinois is on her leash, which seems unnecessary given how well trained Molly is.
“Thank you for coming so quickly,” Hanna says as Daniel pats the dog on the head.
They go up to the sixth floor and show Jarmo the Silver Suite and the door to the fire exit. Then he and Molly take over.
Hanna is equally thrilled each time she sees an experienced police dog in action.
Even though she knows that a dog’s sense of smell is thousands of times more sensitive than hers, with 220 million olfactory receptors compared with a human being’s 5 million, it is still fascinating to see it in practice.
Molly has learned to seek out traces of blood and objects based on the scent of victims. She sets off with her ears pricked, totally focused on the task at hand.
Daniel and Hanna follow on behind, keeping their distance in order not to disturb her, but they have to break into a jog to stay on track.
Molly reaches the ground floor and marks clearly at the door leading to the parking garage. Hanna’s pulse rate shoots up, and Daniel nods. It seems as if they were right—this was the perpetrator’s escape route after the murder.
They enter the garage, and Molly stops halfway to the exit, then heads for the side door and barks until Jarmo opens it.
She then aims for the parking lot, and Hanna wonders what that means.
Did the killer return to the hotel after all?
But then the dog heads for a different, lower parking lot that stops just before the skiers’ entrance on the basement level.
She is very excited now, Jarmo has his work cut out to stay with her, and her leash is at full stretch. Molly passes all the parked cars until she reaches the hill where the ski lift stops.
Hanna is having difficulty catching her breath. “Where do you think she’s going?” she asks Daniel.
“No idea.”
More frantic barking; then Molly makes for the dense fir trees. She goes around the disembarkation platform for the lift, then carries straight on.
“Daniel, look!”
Hanna can’t help yelling. The dog is on her way to what looks like the tracks of a vehicle that has been parked—a snow scooter. Large footprints can also be seen in the snow. Could this have been the perpetrator? Are the prints size forty-five?
The tracks continue into the forest; it looks as if the scooter drove northwest.
The dog is still going, and once again the leash is pulled taut. It becomes harder to follow her through the deep snow.
They plod on, a hundred yards, two hundred. Farther and farther in among the trees. They are careful not to walk in the tracks, nothing must be contaminated.
All at once they hear a bark with a different tone. It almost sounds triumphant to Hanna’s ears. The leash is slack now, lying on the ground. Molly is standing motionless next to a thick tree trunk. She is marking, even though the scooter tracks continue.
The snow has been disturbed.
“I wonder what she’s found?” Hanna says breathlessly to Daniel.
He drops to his knees and begins to dig with his hands, snow spraying in all directions.
Molly doesn’t move. Jarmo’s gaze is fixed on Daniel.
“Yes!” Daniel shouts, and immediately stops digging. Carefully he brushes the snow off an object in the hole, making sure he doesn’t touch it with his fingers.
Hanna screws up her eyes in the bright sunshine and sees a hunting knife with a sharp, highly polished edge. The silvery blade glints in the sunlight. The leather shaft is discolored with brownish-red marks, contrasting sharply with the white snow.
The stains look like dried blood.
Could it be Charlotte’s?
Have they found the murder weapon at last?