Fear Of Broken Glass

Shock & Indifference

Astonishment, surprise, shock, even indifference: Almquist looked past the faces to the other side of the room, towards an old iron wood burner. Next to it a copper bin stood filled with cleaved birch wood.

'Thomas, dead?' Justin Swift repeated.

Almquist spoke without expression or sympathy. 'No one is to leave here until we have taken statements.'

'What happened?'

'My assistant will take care of the formalities.' Almquist looked across towards Elin Vikland, who stood leaning against the wall by the door, then turned to memorize each face before proceeding.

'Where did you find him?'

'Are you certain it is Thomas?'

Always the same pattern.

'We found Mr. Denisen's body at the bottom of a rock, in the National Park. It looks like he fell.'

The questions stopped, replaced by the regular squeak of the pine rocking chair, Conrad Baron having taken permanent possession of it, befitting the leader as he most obviously was. He had the type of face that had seen people, done things. The type of person you could spend hours with and thought you knew, but who could still surprise you at the end of the day, challenging preconceptions.

Of the others sitting at the table, Ash the Anglo-Indian with the ponytail he had taken an instant dislike to. The handsome blonde Justin Swift seemed disturbed more than upset. Daniel Hanson, the American with the short receding hairline he would make his mind up about him later.

Then he looked over to Ulrika. She had the kind of eyes men couldn't escape from. Didn't want to escape from. When she looked at him she hung her head slightly to one side in a gesture that could have been unintentionally relaxed, but was also provocative in a delightful way, looking slightly upwards at him from underneath her fringe. She was returning his gaze. He realized he was staring and looked away. When he looked back again she was still looking at him. Almquist felt himself blush, snapping into focus. 'What was Thomas Denisen doing in the park?'

Silence.

Two of them glanced in Justin Swift's direction. Conrad Baron showed all the signs of being measured and in control.

'Does anyone know why he was in park?' Almquist asked again, more firmly this time.

All shook their heads.

'He left early this morning,' Justin Swift ventured. 'At least, he was gone when I got up.'

'But he was part of this group?' Almquist said, looking around the table. He received one, two nods. Reluctant nods.

'Did he have any reason to leave?' Vikland asked from the wall by the door.

Justin Swift glanced in Conrad Baron's direction. Neither said anything. Justin was sitting on the side of the table closest to a painted, vertically boarded white wall containing more old photographs. Ash sat next to Justin, seeming bored. Would the guilty act bored? Reason enough to look bored.