The Blood Strand by Chris Ould

Author:Chris Ould
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Titan

4

“WELL?” ÁRI NICLASEN ASKED AS HENTZE ENTERED THE incident room. The other officers were busy either writing reports or talking on the phone.

“Fine,” Hentze said, knowing full well that wasn’t what Niclasen had been asking.

“I mean, is there any idea where Nóa Lisberg might be?” Niclasen said.

Hentze shook his head. “As you know, he hasn’t been home since Saturday according to his parents, and having talked to them I think they’re telling the truth. From what I could tell, Nóa Lisberg and his father haven’t been getting on so well recently – which could account for the absence – but his mother is definitely worried. If she knew where he was I think she’d have told me.”

“Is she worried because he’s missing or because she thinks he could be a murderer?”

“I didn’t mention the connection to Tummas Gramm or his death,” Hentze said. “Just that we needed to talk to Nóa about a possible assault.”

He moved away from Niclasen in order to take off his coat. It was a useful diversion, too. In truth he was still a little irked that Ári hadn’t stayed long enough to have heard all this for himself: it would have saved time. On the other hand, Hentze knew he’d probably got a far better idea of the Lisberg family than he would have if Ári had been leading the questioning. Not one for subtlety and nuance, was Ári: he’d rather hit a single question hard and persistently, even if the hammer was too big for the job.

“So what sort of impression did you get of him then?” Niclasen pressed. “Did you pick up on anything that would support the idea that Lisberg killed Gramm?”

“On the surface? No I don’t think so,” Hentze said, hanging his coat on the back of a chair. “I’m not saying he didn’t do it, but apart from that one minor brawl there’s nothing to indicate that he’s given to violence: maybe the opposite, in fact.”

“In what way?”

Hentze shrugged. “He seems to be the artistic type; a bit wrapped up in himself, too, maybe.”

Whether that pleased or disheartened Niclasen it was hard to tell. He absorbed it and seemed to add it to a mental checklist as he shifted his tall, awkward frame.

“Okay, well, I have to go and brief Remi now, so push on here, okay? Names and addresses of Nóa Lisberg’s friends and associates, anyone he might have spoken to or seen in the last few days. And his phone. Don’t forget that.”

So saying, Niclasen moved off towards the door.

“Did you get anything from the ferries or airport yet?” Hentze called after him.

“Only the airport. It was a negative. He hasn’t left by plane.”

Hentze let him go. He was pretty sure that Nóa Lisberg hadn’t left by ferry either, but it was only a feeling – to go along with one or two others, slowly making themselves comfortable in his gut. He weighed the notebook from Nóa Lisberg’s room in his hand for a moment, then put it aside and turned to address the others in the room.

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