Page 53 of Hidden in Memories
“Hello?” Musse says. “Are you there?”
“Sorry,” Bengt croaks. “On my way.”
42
Hanna’s footsteps echo in the narrow stairwell. They are on their way down to the emergency exit, and Daniel is right behind her. From time to time the motion-sensor light goes out, but it comes back on as soon as Hanna waves her arms.
She is annoyed with herself; they should have taken a closer look at possible escape routes on Monday rather than waiting until now. But everything was so chaotic, with people everywhere and hysterical hotel guests running back and forth once the news got out.
Plus Carina almost went crazy when they tried to look around—she just wanted them out of the way. The crime scene had already been contaminated by the guy from maintenance who discovered the body, along with anyone else who had entered the suite before the alarm was raised.
At the time it had felt like the right decision to sit down in the conference room and prioritize interviews with key individuals. They needed to form a clear picture of the situation rather than staying at the scene. Since then time has run away from them, and they have both had their hands full.
It’s still poor police work,she thinks, wishing she could turn back the clock.
“We should have done this earlier,” Daniel says, echoing Hanna’s self-critical thoughts.
“Absolutely. We should.”
They have reached the ground floor. Daniel is two steps above her, with his hand on the rail. At that moment the light goes out again. A smell of cedarwood and leather, possibly from his beard oil, reaches Hanna’s nostrils, evoking something primitive within her. She doesn’t want the light to come back on. She wants to stay here in the darkness with Daniel.
She wants him so much that it hurts.
Then her sense of duty takes over. She waves her hand and the light comes on.
In order to increase the distance between them, she moves forward. She looks around and sees several doors. Daniel joins her and presses down the handle of the closest one to discover a gym with a treadmill and spin bikes. A surprised man in his sixties looks up from a rowing machine.
The next door leads to an open area, which Hanna recognizes as the hotel’s lower lounge. There is a large billiard table covered in green baize in the corner.
She goes over to the last door, pushes down the handle, and finds herself in a dimly lit parking garage.
Thismustbe the escape route.
This has to be where the perpetrator came rushing along, filled with adrenaline, on Sunday night. Maybe he was still clutching the murder weapon.
Hanna stops, wondering what committing such a heinous crime does to a person? Did he even think about what he’d done, or was he simply hell-bent on getting away?
Meanwhile Daniel has made his way over to the exit, which consists of a wide opening for vehicles and a small side door for pedestrians.
He beckons her over.
“There’s no card reader. You just have to push down the handle and walk out.”
He opens the door, and Hanna follows him. The fresh air feels good, it’s nice to get away from the gloom.
“I think this is it,” Daniel says. “Let’s bring in the dog handler to go through the stairwell and the entire garage. See if they can trace the perpetrator’s route, even though a few days have passed.”
“I can take care of that,” Hanna offers. She buries her chin in her scarf. They already have a valid theory of how the murderer entered the Silver Suite while Charlotte was sleeping; now it looks as if they know how he escaped afterward.
And yet they are a long way from solving the mystery.
They have no motive, no prime suspect, no murder weapon.
“I really wish there was a functioning CCTV camera,” Daniel says, pointing to an empty bracket above the entrance to the parking garage. “It would have been an invaluable help.”
Hanna walks forward, and the door closes behind her. When she turns around, it is locked. There is a metal card reader on the outside wall.
So you can get out this way without a key card, but you can’t get in.
