Chapter 89
Less than an hour later, all police patrols in the area have been informed that Filip Wretlind is missing, and they have been asked to keep a lookout for him.
Hanna has provided a description: He is six feet tall, has wavy fair hair, blue eyes, and rounded cheeks that make him look younger than he is.
Henry added that he is probably wearing a dark-blue padded Moncler jacket.
Hanna is still at the Villa. She feels stone-cold sober, but she dare not get behind the wheel yet. They are sitting at one end of the huge dining table, and Henry has made them both a strong espresso.
Hanna has also spoken to the regional operations center and explained the situation. Then she called the ma?tre d’ at Supper and asked her to find out whether anyone on the staff had noticed Filip going outside to smoke.
If anyone remembers the smallest detail, they must speak up.
She did the same with the ?reg?rden hotel. If anyone has seen Filip, they must contact the police immediately.
Henry’s eyes are dark with worry. He too has tried Filip’s number many times, without success. It rings and rings, but no one answers. This means his phone isn’t switched off; Hanna can’t decide whether this is good or bad.
“I should have insisted that he stay here with me,” Henry says. “There are enough bedrooms. But he didn’t want to be in the hotel where his mother was murdered—that’s why I booked a room at ?reg?rden for them.”
“It’s not your fault that he’s missing.”
“It feels that way.” Henry buries his face in his hands. “I’ve watched Filip grow up ever since he was born, and now he has no one else, apart from Emily. His father checked out a long time ago. I should have taken better care of him. I have sons of my own—I know how important a father figure is.”
He sounds devastated. He raises his head and looks Hanna in the eye.
“Oh my God—what if he’s been kidnapped?”
Hanna would like to put her arm around his shoulders and reassure him. Tell him that Filip will probably be back soon, that everything will be fine. But she is just as worried as he is.
After two murders in a week, her nerves are jangling with anxiety. She hesitates, then reaches out and squeezes his hand. It feels neither strange nor inappropriate.
It feels right.
He returns the pressure gratefully. His skin is warm and dry beneath her fingertips; she maintains the contact for a few seconds longer. Earlier in the evening she hadn’t given much thought to the age difference, but now the fact that Henry is twenty years older is all too evident.
“Help me go through this,” she says, both to distract him and to clarify her own thoughts. “Those payments you mentioned, could they have been bribes?”
Henry takes a deep breath and exhales through his mouth. “I wish I knew.”
Hanna nods. There is a crackling sound from the hearth.
The fire has burned down, but the logs in the middle are still glowing.
She gets up and goes over to the coffee machine.
Without asking she makes them both another cup and fetches milk from the refrigerator.
She finds a dish of chocolates on the counter and brings it with her.
It’s going to be a long night.
In the best case scenario, Filip will be found within a few hours—at least that’s what she is trying to tell herself. There doesn’t have to be any kind of criminal activity behind his disappearance, it’s not necessary to believe the worst.
At the same time, it’s very worrying. All bars and restaurants have to close at the same time because of the restrictions. There is nowhere for Filip to go.
It is almost two o’clock in the morning—nearly six hours since Emily last saw him.
Filip is still missing.
With every hour that passes, the likelihood that he has been abducted increases.
And Hanna has no idea where they should start searching.