Page 29 of Hidden in Memories
Tiny movements beneath his eyelids suggest that he is dreaming.
Sometimes he has terrible nightmares, when the memories from his childhood catch up with him. He is rarely willing to talk about those days, but occasionally, dreadful stories have slipped out.
At the beginning of their relationship, Tiina tried to persuade him to see a therapist, talk to a psychologist to process his experiences, but he got so angry that she dropped the idea. Over time she has abandoned her efforts, despite the fact that he seems to be increasingly tormented by his difficult childhood.
Recently his outbursts of rage have become more frequent, and he has also started drinking more. Sometimes she finds him in theliving room late at night, sitting up and brooding with a grim look on his face.
Tiina shudders and draws the covers more tightly around her. Ogge groans and inhales deeply. It sounds like the final rattle of a dying man. There is silence for several seconds, then he exhales.
To be on the safe side, she shuffles toward the edge of the mattress in order to give him space, even though he is already taking up more than half the bed.
Then she lies perfectly still. Tries to make herself relax so that the pain will go away and she can finally get to sleep.
Tuesday, March 30
23
Hanna’s eyes are stinging as she heads for the small kitchen at the station on Tuesday morning to pour herself a large cup of coffee. Six hours’ sleep is not enough; a yawn gets the better of her on the way. It is seven thirty, and they are due to hold a briefing with everyone involved in the special unit that has been put together to investigate the murder of Charlotte Wretlind.
She says good morning to a couple of colleagues who are heading out on patrol, then makes her way to the conference room. Daniel is already seated at the table. His face lights up when she comes in, and as usual her mood improves as soon as she sees him. Today he is wearing jeans and a crewneck sweater with a white shirt underneath—his standard attire. His hair is tousled, as if he simply ran his fingers through it this morning instead of looking for a comb.
Hanna is seized by an impulse to lean forward and smooth it down, but quickly pulls herself together.
Daniel also seems to be suffering from a lack of sleep, but he no longer looks as desperately tired as he did during Alice’s first year. Hanna pictures Daniel and Ida smiling with their arms around each other, holding their baby daughter.
The unattainable nuclear family.
Which is not hers.
Maybe she’s acquired a cat instead.
The thought provides some consolation, even though she was woken at least ten times during the night because Morris seems to have decided that the only acceptable place to sleep is on Hanna’s bed, preferably on her chest.
For the first time, she understands why Daniel looks so worn out when Alice has had a bad night.
“How long did you stay yesterday?” he asks.
“I think I got to bed around midnight. By the way, I checked out Henry Sylvester’s alibi, and several witnesses confirm that he was in Stockholm on Sunday evening.”
The door opens, and Raffe and Anton join them. Anton is carrying a pile of printouts, which he places on the table, while Raffe’s contribution is a plate of brownies baked by Nilla.
“Okay, let’s go,” Daniel says, opening the link to Östersund, where the rest of the group are assembled with Birgitta Grip and the prosecutor.
They have several matters to deal with today. After lunch they are meeting the victim’s son, who is due to arrive in Åre this morning. Before that they plan to go through the printouts of the interviews with hotel staff conducted so far. Hanna also wants to speak to Carina to get the lowdown on the examination of the crime scene, and she hopes to find time to dig deeper into Charlotte’s background and private life.
She glances at the wall, where the photographs of Charlotte’s mutilated body have been put up.
The red blood against the white skin, the wide-open eyes staring into eternity.
Hanna shudders. Who does that to another person?
24
The lump in Aada’s stomach grows as soon as she leaves the staff accommodation and sets off for the hotel. It is only a few hundred yards, but every step is an effort.
Last night she dreamed of a dark figure who flung open the door and attacked her in her sleep. She would prefer to stay in her room and hide, but she dare not miss work.
With her head bowed against the wind, she heads for the parking garage and the staff entrance. The cold nips at her cheeks; she shivers all the way.
