Page 96 of Hidden in Memories
“At least it looks better on the inside,” Daniel says quietly in her ear.
Leffe leads them into the dining room on the first floor, then up another staircase to what is known as the Loft. He explains that dances were held here, to live music. There is a podium at one end for the band. In the opposite direction, up a few more steps, is the famous barwith its elegant black counter and tall cane-backed stools. Small groups of chairs made of dark wood with distressed gilding are arranged to make the most of the fantastic view.
“This is where the guests would have their coffee and cognac after dinner,” Leffe tells them nostalgically.
Hanna stops dead in front of the window.
Unlike Åre, which is located on the side of a mountain, giving almost every building a view of the lake, this hotel has the sweeping panorama of the mountains as its focus. The landscape is less steep, with sparse vegetation; it is the white mountain birch that catch the eye, extending all the way to the Norwegian border, which can just be seen to the west.
This is just on the tree line; only a short distance away, the bare mountains await.
“It’s very peaceful,” Daniel says, gesturing toward the view before them.
Hanna agrees. It is easy to let your eyes rest on the gentle slopes, to lose yourself in all the whiteness.
“Are these the old ceiling paintings that everyone seems to be so upset about?” Daniel asks. Like Hanna he has seen the Facebook posts where members express their anger at the fact that the fine works of art will not be preserved if the building is demolished.
Hanna takes a closer look. They really are striking, colorful and imaginative. The ceiling is covered with various animals—reindeer, moose, and dogs. There are also Viking longboats, and native Inuit and Sámi figures in traditional dress.
“They are,” Leffe confirms. “The whole lot will disappear if the plans go through.”
“Don’t you think some of the comments from the Facebook group have been unnecessarily aggressive?” Hanna wonders.
Leffe looks uncomfortable. He adjusts a barstool that isn’t quite straight and pushes it a couple of inches farther in.
“They exaggerate,” he says eventually. “But the hotel has stood for such a long time. It was built in the 1930s. The paintings have been here for generations.”
He looks up to where a vivid sunset adorns the ceiling above the bar. “Just because something is new, that doesn’t necessarily mean it’s good,” he murmurs.
“Do you know anyone in the group?” Hanna asks. “I’ve read some of the comments, and they’re pretty graphic. The kind of thing that could be classed as making illegal threats.”
Her question makes Leffe shift his weight from one foot to the other. He pushes his hands deep in his pockets and refuses to meet her gaze.
“I might know the odd person who could be a member, but ...”
“Are you a member?” Daniel asks.
Leffe shakes his head in a way that makes Hanna suspect he might well be responsible for some of the posts.
She looks up again. The works of art really do have a unique charm, embodying times gone by and Scandinavian history.
But that is not a reason to resort to violence and murder.
Then
December 30, 1973
Monica has locked herself in the toilet for a few minutes’ peace. A shiver runs through her whole body when she thinks about the note she received at breakfast time today.
Sean discreetly slipped it into her hand. Her heart pounds as she reads it again.
Meet me tomorrow at 2 pm. room 505
She has been walking on air ever since their encounter the other day; she can’t think about anything but him.
He loves her and she loves him.
It is snowing outside the window, featherlight flakes dancing in the air. It is almost two o’clock, the temperature is still below freezing, but almost all the guests have gone skiing today.
