Page 80 of Hidden in Memories
Daniel decides not to bring this up at the moment, but he can see from the skeptical look on Hanna’s face that she is thinking along the same lines.
“So what happened after that?”
“The woman became hysterical. It wouldn’t surprise me if she was menopausal, the way she behaved. She said I’d regret it and a load of other crap before she stormed off.”
His insistence on blaming the argument on Charlotte and his comment on her hormonal cycle doesn’t exactly inspire confidence in his account.
“At the time I didn’t give it any more thought because I was so busy. It wasn’t until the following day when I realized she was the one who’d been murdered during the night that it felt kind of ... awkward.”
“What did you do after the quarrel?” Daniel asks.
“I carried on working.”
“So that was the last time you saw Charlotte Wretlind alive?” Hanna clarifies.
“It was, yes.”
Hanna chews the end of her pen. “Did you ever enter the Silver Suite while Charlotte was staying there?”
“No, I didn’t.”
“Are you sure about that?”
“Absolutely.”
Paul is sitting with his fists clenched. Is it because he is finding the conversation stressful?
Or is he lying?
“What did you do for the rest of the evening?”
“I finished my shift, got changed, and fetched the car from the parking garage to drive home.”
“And what time was that?”
“Let me think ... I finished around eleven.”
“Is there anyone who can confirm what time you arrived home?”
“My wife. You’re welcome to speak to her if you like.”
“Was she really awake when you got home so late?” Hanna wonders.
Paul doesn’t answer. Hanna waits patiently. Eventually he says reluctantly, “Come to think of it, she was asleep.”
“So there’s no one who can confirm the time you actually arrived back home,” Daniel pushes him.
The sun is shining in through the window, water is dripping from the gutter outside, and thousands of snow crystals sparkle in the early spring light. The icicles hanging from the roof are shimmering.
The contrast makes the indoor environment feel even darker and more oppressive.
Hanna changes tack.
“You have a gun license and you hunt. Do you own a hunting knife?”
Daniel thinks of the bloodstained knife they found buried in the snow the previous day. The forensic examination has yet to be completed. If they manage to find just one fingerprint, it will be an enormous step forward.
And if they find any trace of Paul Lehto, that would be the end of the matter.
