Page 54 of Hidden in Memories
Would a killer on the way to his victim use the main entrance and risk being seen in the foyer?
Probably not.
“We need to request a list of everyone who passed through here on Sunday,” she says to Daniel, and explains why.
She is becoming increasingly certain that it wasn’t a guest who murdered Charlotte. Everything she has seen so far convinces her that the risk of being recognized would have been too great.
For a start you have to register, give your name and credit card details. Second, the perpetrator would have either had to check outbefore the murder or return to his room with blood all over his clothes and shoes.
A huge risk.
Which leaves two alternative scenarios.
Either it is a hotel employee who killed Charlotte, or a member of staff helped the perpetrator to get in.
They need to concentrate on the staff.
That’s where they will find their killer.
43
The white snow is dazzling in the sunlight. Ida can’t help smiling at the sight spread out before her.
She and Gustav have had to walk quite a distance with their skis over their shoulders in order to reach the highest peak. Now they have arrived, and the view over the mountaintops is exhilarating.
A private universe of powder snow and untouched slopes awaits them.
With every fiber of her body, Ida can feel how much she loves this. How intensely she has longed to stand at the top of the mountain with the adrenaline pumping.
The sense of freedom is monumental. It’s a long time since she felt so alive.
Gustav has stopped a few feet away. He adjusts his goggles and looks every bit as happy and excited as Ida.
“Wow,” he says. “It’s amazing up here!”
Ida laughs out loud.
People who don’t ski can never understand the sheer joy that comes from being in a sea of powder snow. But Ida, who grew up in Åre, understands perfectly. She loves the kick you get when you are first on the scene. When you are about to hurl yourself out into all that whiteness.
Few experiences can beat that sensation. It’s almost as good as sex.
She has always been a powder snow junkie.
She gazes all around. Here and there the snow has piled up in thick, ruffled drifts. The wind, which is almost always blowing up here, has created strange formations in the landscape. The lifts in the high zone are often closed because of the wind, but today the air is perfectly still.
She drives her poles into the snow. At this point the mountain has an even steeper incline than in the Eastern Ravine, another of her favorite challenging runs. When she leans forward, the mountainside appears to be concave, as if it is bellying inward.
If she leans too far in the other direction, she feels as if she might fall.
“Shall we go?” Gustav says.
Ida nods and glides over the edge. She doesn’t need to work to get up her speed; it simply happens. Her skis find their own way, effortlessly slicing through the snow cover.
Within seconds she finds her flow. Her body knows exactly what to do, swaying gently from side to side as she rhythmically makes her way down the steep slope. From the waist up she is poised in the dynamic stance, her gaze fixed on the mountainside. Only her legs are working as her hips and her skis change position with each new movement.
The snow is spraying in all directions.
Out of the corner of her eye, she can see that she and Gustav are traveling in parallel lines. He is slightly to her right, and they are maintaining roughly the same speed.
