Chapter 59
Daniel drives up the steep, winding road to Copperhill as fast as he dares. As he takes the final bend he sees the police officers and cordons. There is no doubt that they are approaching a crime scene.
Curious and anxious onlookers have gathered behind the blue-and-white tape.
Several are holding up their phones and trying to record as much as they can.
Daniel sees Hanna frown at this tasteless behavior, but there isn’t much they can do.
These days unauthorized individuals often film at crime scenes, even when they should be helping out.
That’s the way the world looks with social media.
He parks the car, and they hurry down the hill. A short distance away they can just see the roof of Zlatan Ibrahimovi?’s house, a much-talked-about mountain lodge that the famous footballer had built a decade ago.
Today there is no time to admire its bold architecture. Instead they hurry to the area behind the hotel’s staff accommodation, a three-story gray building in front of a dense forest of fir trees.
A uniformed colleague whom Daniel recognizes beckons them over.
“Over there,” Jocke says, pointing.
Daniel’s stomach contracts when he sees the outline of the dead body, right next to a clump of trees.
“Who found her?” Hanna asks.
“The woman with the dog.”
She is sitting in one of the police cars. The back door is open, and a dog on a leash is sitting outside, whining impatiently. It’s a Samoyed—Daniel recognizes the characteristic fluffy coat that almost blends in with the white snow.
“I asked her to wait until you got here,” Jocke explains.
“We’ll talk to her in a minute—let’s take a look at the victim first.”
They make their way over to the spot where the body is lying on the ground. Daniel feels a terrible emptiness inside. They are standing in front of a deceased person who will never speak, laugh, or breathe again.
It’s a young woman. She looks very small lying half on her side, with pale cheeks and closed eyes. Her hands are resting on the snow, palms upward. Her fair hair surrounds her head like a frozen halo.
But there is nothing peaceful about this horrific sight.
Her quilted jacket has slipped down, exposing part of her throat. Her scarf is tight around her neck. It is obvious that someone has pulled as hard as they could.
“I don’t think there’s any doubt about the cause of death,” Daniel says, “although of course the pathologist will have to carry out an examination.”
“Do we know her name?” Hanna asks.
One cheek is pressed down into the snow. The scarf has dug deep into her skin. Hanna spots a pass card hanging from a lanyard, and crouches down to take a closer look.
“Aada Kuus. It seems she worked at the hotel.”
Daniel turns to get an overview. The hotel is a few hundred yards away up to the right, on the same side of the road as the accommodation block.
However, this particular area is well hidden.
There aren’t many windows at the back of the staff building, and you can’t be seen from the road.
Nor are there any streetlights. The entrance to the block is around the corner, so the exterior lighting is facing in the opposite direction.
He looks at the dead woman again.
No unwelcome eyes would have seen what happened here.
And no one would have heard her scream.