Chapter 91
They have been waiting for news for hours now, and Hanna has dozed off on Henry’s sofa. When her phone wakes her, it is almost five o’clock in the morning. She is dizzy with the lack of sleep, and there is a dull ache at the back of her head.
Henry is fast asleep on the other sofa, opposite her. His cheek is resting on a cushion, his ear on the armrest.
“Hello?” Hanna says breathlessly.
A colleague on patrol is on the other end of the line.
“Have you found Filip Wretlind?”
The wind crackles in the microphone as the officer explains why he is calling.
“No, but we just picked up a guy who was staggering along the E14 and we drove him home. He was still drunk. He’d had a nap at a friend’s house, then woke up and decided he had to get home to Bjornen.
He told us he’d seen another guy outside Supper who was in an even worse state than him, so drunk that his companion was practically carrying him.
I think our guy wanted to show himself in a better light, but the thing is that the young man he saw matches Filip Wretlind’s description. ”
Hanna tightens her grip on the phone.
“So what time was this? When he saw him?”
“Around eight in the evening, apparently. Our witness said he was wearing a dark-blue Moncler jacket.”
The time fits with what Emily told her.
And the clothing.
“Did he see where Filip went?”
“He said the two of them were heading toward the parking lot at the train station. The person we think was Filip was barely capable of walking. He was being dragged along.”
Hanna frantically tries to process this new information.
If Filip had been drugged, or suffered a blow to the head, that could explain why he appeared to be so drunk. According to Emily he hadn’t been drunk at all—in fact he’d had only one beer during the course of the evening.
“Did your informant notice anything about the person he was with? Was it a man or a woman?”
“It was a tall man, but our guy has no idea what he looked like. He doesn’t recall much, just that he was wearing a dark hat pulled well down over his forehead.”
“Age?”
“Again, no idea.”
“Did he see if they drove away?”
“No. It’s possible that he might remember more tomorrow when he sobers up. We’ve got his contact details.”
All of Hanna’s forebodings are coming true. It doesn’t sound as if Filip left the restaurant of his own free will.
Henry has woken and is sitting up, listening to every word with his fists clenched on his knees.
Hanna immediately calls Daniel. It’s the middle of the night but it can’t be helped—she has to wake him now.
He answers after five rings.
She hates saying the words out loud.
“It’s about Filip Wretlind. I think he’s been kidnapped.”