Hidden in Snow (The ?re Murders, #1)(48)

This is not something to chat about over a minty drink in a crowded bar. She settles on a compromise.

“My department works on the abuse of women, that kind of thing,” she says with a fake smile. “Far too depressing for an evening like this.”

“I could never stay around if my boyfriend hit me,”

Karro says firmly. “I’d walk out right away.”

Hanna is grateful for Karro’s input, even though she probably doesn’t understand how difficult it is to leave a relationship like that. Most women don’t leave the first time they experience violence, although they should. Instead they stay, convince themselves that it was a one-off. When it happens again, they find new reasons to stay. They do it over and over again until they are so cowed they can no longer see clearly.

However, this is not the time for that kind of lecture.

Malin returns to the subject of Amanda’s death. “Her poor parents. It must be unbearable to lose a daughter in that way.”

Hanna nods. The statistics suggest that the boyfriend is guilty. She’s been looking for an opportunity to mention Viktor, and here it is. Malin and Jenny are busy passing various dishes to each other, while Karro has just picked up her knife and fork. Hanna takes her chance.

“The boyfriend you told me about yesterday, the one who’d beaten up his ex-girlfriend,” she says quietly to Karro.

“Viktor Landahl. Did you pass the information on to your brother?”

Karro shakes her head.

“Don’t you think you should? It might be important.”

Suddenly Karro is very preoccupied with her food.

“I don’t know . . . ,” she says evasively.

The other girls aren’t listening, but Karro seems uncomfortable, as if she regrets saying anything to Hanna.

“I can’t go poking my nose into Anton’s job. I’d feel . . .

dumb.”

Hanna realizes she needs to drop the matter, and nods.

It’s none of her business anyway.

She shrugs to show that it doesn’t matter. It was kind of Karro to invite her out, even though they hardly know each other. The least she can do is show a little sensitivity.

“Sk?l!” she says, raising her glass. “Thanks for inviting me to join you.”

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48

The bedroom is in darkness when Daniel creeps in at eleven o’clock. Alice must have fallen asleep long ago, and Ida has done the same; she is lying on her side in her pale-blue nightgown.

Daniel is exhausted, but pauses for a moment by Alice’s crib. She is on her back, snoring softly. Her tiny eyelids are closed, her hands resting on the pink blanket, the fingers slightly curved in a grip reflex.

His heart contracts at the thought of anything happening to her.

How is he going to be able to protect his daughter when she grows up? More than most people, he is only too aware of everything that can befall a young girl. Evil makes no exceptions for the children of police officers.

With one last look at his sleeping baby, he goes around to his side of the bed. He is worn out from the tensions of the day. With a bit of luck, he might get six or seven hours, if Alice has a good night.

He gets undressed without switching on the light, and slips into bed. Ida turns to him in the darkness.

“Mom saw you on TV,” she says quietly to avoid waking Alice.

“Mmm.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t have time.”

“You didn’t have time?”

“I hadn’t expected the TV cameras to be there,” he says evasively. The press conference is the last thing he wants to talk about.

“Mom’s really upset,” Ida goes on. “She says such terrible things have never happened in our community.”

Ida’s mother, Elisabeth, calls almost every day and has opinions on most things—especially how Alice should be cared for.

“She’s too scared to go out,” Ida adds.

Daniel hasn’t got the energy to discuss his mother-in-law at this time of night. Instead he tries to bring the conversation to an end.

“She’s exaggerating,” he says, deliberately yawning loudly. “Good night, sweetheart.”

“She thought you seemed very tense and nervous on TV.” Ida rubs his back. “Was it hard?”

Daniel doesn’t need reminding of his contribution. He watched it afterward and is still embarrassed. He came across as an amateur. Why did Birgitta Grip insist on dragging him down there? Next time they can do it on their own.

“I have to sleep. I need to be up before six.”

“Okay. I just wanted a chat.” The silent reproach hangs in the air. “You’ve hardly been home since Friday.”

Daniel knows it’s not easy for Ida to carry the whole burden on her own, but he still wishes she had some sympathy for his situation. It’s been a long day, full of frustration.

He had hoped to find Amanda alive, right up to the last minute. This morning’s disappointment is eating away at him.

“I thought you might want to talk about . . . how you’re feeling?” Ida says quietly, adjusting the covers.

Daniel reaches out and draws her close, nuzzling the back of her neck. “I’m sorry. I’m just tired.”