He looked at her. She was sitting at the table across from the young man with the long dark hair in a ponytail called Ashley. She was smoking a cigarette, the light catching earrings he hadn't noted before. As for the rest, three names were already listed one above the other:
Conrad Baron, English, 44
Daniel Hanson, American, 31.
Under his name the other one, blonde, relatively handsome and polite, writing, Justin Swift, English, 33.
Almquist added and ringed the name Ulrika. Ulrika Strömberg, Swedish, 24.
As for the surly one with the ponytail, he called himself Ash: Ash with an Indian surname. The two names Ashley Jayaraman didn't seem to fit, somehow. On the other hand, England was more of a multi-cultural nation than Sweden was, or India for that matter. Neither did he look either English, or Indian for that matter, looking more Persian.
He wrote the name Ashley Jayaraman, English, 24 underneath Ulrika's, underlining it.
Three British, one American and a Swede; minus one Dane, of course. All foreigners, male and one Swedish female: Ulrika. Almquist glanced briefly at his holdall, all but forgotten by the kitchen door, the progression of the investigation laid out before him like a familiar old companion. He placed his notebook back in his heavy jacket pocket, sliding it back into its familiar resting place and looked around at the five faces waiting. He searched for signs of nervousness, false courage; deceit.
When he was sure he hadn't missed anything he made the announcement: 'Thomas Denisen is dead.'
***
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Fear Of Broken Glass
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