Page 19 of Hidden in Memories
“This really is dreadful,” Daniel says.
Hanna can hear his heavy breathing behind the mask, and knows they both share the same feelings of horror and frustration.
He looks away, shakes his head. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”
Then
December 23, 1973
Her feet are aching after the first few days at work, but Monica has never felt so excited.
The hotel is like a fairy tale, with a hair salon, its own bakery, bowling hall, and swimming pool. It can accommodate five hundred guests, and there are so many members of staff that Monica can’t possibly remember all their names. One guy, Leffe, is employed purely to change light bulbs. He is even younger than her, only fifteen.
In the Loft, where there is dancing to live music every night, seventeen waitresses work each shift, serving coffee and cognac.
By the time Monica gets home in the evenings, her head is spinning with all the new impressions.
As soon as she wakes up, she can’t wait to get back there.
Today is December 23, and she is with Stina, an experienced waitress who has seen most things, folding napkins for the first dinner service.
In Monica’s eyes Stina is old, over forty, and many years of smoking have made her voice hoarse and rasping. She shows Monica how to shape the big linen napkins into something called the fleur-de-lis.
It is complicated, but Monica is getting there.
She really loves her job. Her eyes widen every single time she enters the extravagant dining room. Shimmering baubles hang from the chandeliers, lighted candles adorn each table. The lavish buffet isn’t like anything she has seen before—tray after tray of exciting delicacies that make her mouth water.
For the first time in her life, she has tasted a green fruit called an avocado.
To think that she gets to experience all this—Monica, who grew up on meat and potatoes. It is like being in a Hollywood movie. It doesn’t matter that her shifts can last for ten hours, or that she barely gets time to eat. She is the youngest of the waitresses, the only novice, but almost everyone is kind and answers her questions.
“This is when it really starts,” Stina says, putting down yet another perfectly folded linen napkin.
“What do you mean?”
“Today the train arrives, bringing the upper-class families from Stockholm. You’ll see.” Stina winks at her. “If you do well, there will be plenty of tips when they leave. Give the gentlemen a special smile, be polite to their wives, and you’ll reap the rewards.”
She looks Monica up and down.
“You’re so cute—you won’t have any problems!”
16
Daniel is facing the window in the conference room at Copperhill. Hanna has gone to the bathroom, so he is alone. Images of the murdered woman flicker through his mind following the visit to the Silver Suite.
He rubs his hand over his short beard.
A terrible crime has been committed, and they now have to do their best to solve it, even though resources are as limited as they were a year ago. He hopes their boss, Birgitta Grip, will have a plan to fix the staffing issue; otherwise he doesn’t know how they are going to manage yet another demanding investigation.
His gloomy thoughts are interrupted as the door is flung open and a man aged about fifty appears. He is wearing an elegant camel-hair coat and a dark suit, and has an air of authority and gravitas.
He runs his right hand over his thick silvery-gray hair.
“Are you the officer in charge?” he says before Daniel has time to react. “I came as soon as I heard about Charlotte. I can’t get my head around it. Who would do such a thing? Here, at a top hotel?”
The questions come so fast that Daniel has no chance of answering them. He gets up and stands opposite the man, who is about the same height as him—around six feet.
He manages to hide his irritation. “And you are ...?”
