Death of the Demon by Holt Anne

Author:Holt, Anne [Holt, Anne]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Crime, Mystery, thriller
ISBN: 9781451634921
Amazon: B00BB9GWMO
Goodreads: 17251274
Publisher: Scribner
Published: 1995-01-01T08:00:00+00:00

8

Although this was only Billy T.’s eighth day in his new post as detective, his office already looked like a pigsty. Papers were lying everywhere, some of them important, others scribblings and old newspapers. Beside the door, a pile of empty cola bottles was lying on the floor, and at least three of them toppled over every time someone entered the room. Above the door hung a little miniature basket, and two orange plastic foam balls lay in the center of the room. In addition, he had hung a bulletin board on one wall, directly facing the desk, with several snapshots of four small boys attached with staples from a staple gun. To make matters worse, the room was totally devoid of any item that might bring the slightest hint of hominess. The windows were filthy, though that was something Billy T. could hardly be blamed for.

“I don’t really understand what we’re doing,” he said with resignation to Hanne Wilhelmsen, who by some miracle had avoided knocking over the bottles or trampling on something before taking her place. “Is the case solved now, or what? That’s a bit of a disappointment, if I may say so. Plain and simple and boring: a divorced man with money problems dips his hand in the till, gets caught, murders his boss, and then slashes himself to death in a bout of regret and despair.”

It was as though she had said the words herself. A disappointment. Maren Kalsvik had provided a statement that morning. Conscience stricken and shattered, she had given a full explanation of her deceased colleague’s embezzlement. She herself had discovered it before Christmas and imposed as a condition for keeping quiet that he sort it out before Easter. All the money was to be paid back. Agnes had known about it. No, she had not spoken to the director about it, but she realized from Agnes’s demeanor that her boss had surely known. Terje had admitted being there. He had insisted he was only looking for some papers. But he had told her barefaced lies for a considerable period of time, so she had no good reason to believe him. Neither had the police.

Still.

It could not be so simple.

“There’s no suicide note,” Hanne said thoughtfully, picking up one of the orange balls. Aiming for the basket above the door, she threw the ball in a gentle curve and hit the target. The ball lay dead on the floor. Stretching from the chair, she retrieved it and tried again. Two more points.

“Bloody hell, you’re really good!”

“Used to live in the States, you know.”

Billy T. lifted the other ball, tossing it into the air, where it hovered on the ring for a second before slowly teetering over on the right side.

“Two points,” Hanne called, trying herself one more time. “Bingo! Hanny Wilhelmsen leads by four points!”

Grinning, Billy T. took up position as far away from the basket as possible, right over beside the window. For a few seconds he stood there, swaying up

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