Read Online Only One Life by Sara Blædel - Free Book Online Page B

suddenly felt overwhelmed with fatigue.
    “No, they broke up before we took that trip to France. The whole thing knocked all the wind out of her, and I don’t really know what I should do to help her. The only sensible thing for her to do is forget him and move on.”
    Søren stood up and grabbed another beer, and she nodded when he asked if she wanted to share it.
    “I feel like giving her a firm shaking. The relationship between those two was completely lopsided, but instead of getting angry and flicking him off, which is much more her style, she’s doing just the opposite.”
    “That doesn’t sound like the Camilla Lind I know,” Søren conceded, lighting another a cigarette.
    “Uh-uh, not the one I know either.”
    “The best thing would be if she met someone else who completely swept her off her feet,” he said after a moment’s thought.
    “You’re right. But that kind of thing just doesn’t happen that often, and certainly not when you need it to.”
    Louise glanced at her watch and downed the rest of her beer.
    “I think I’m going to call it a night,” she said, standing. “It’s been great seeing you again—thanks for the beer. Next time they’re on me.”
    “Same here,” Søren said. “I’m looking forward to working with you again.”
    They went up together and parted ways at the top of the stairwell.
    It was nearly half past nine the next morning when Ibrahim al-Abd arrived at Holbæk police headquarters. Louise had just returned to the office and grabbed a cup of coffee, and her hand was on her phone. Earlier that morning, Mik Rasmussen and she had stopped by the family’s apartment again. Since there was still no answer, Ruth Lange helped them look up where the father worked, which was a lumberyard by the harbor. When they arrived there, the manager said the father had just left.
    He was a small man with thick, black hair and a solid, well-groomed mustache. Louise had been about to leave for the Højmark School and her appointment with Jette Petersen, but she canceled when Storm asked her to come with him to notify Samra’s father.
    “Let’s go in here,” Louise said, leading Ibrahim into the office. She asked him to take a seat on the chair next to her desk and nodded at Mik, who had already grabbed an MP3 recorder that he was setting up from where he was sitting. She offered the father coffee and water while she prepared for the conversation. Right as she was about to shut the door, Storm waved her out into the corridor.
    “Try to get him to tell you a little bit about his daughter before you tell him that she’s the person we ID’d.”
    Louise raised an eyebrow and stood there for a moment but then nodded and turned to walk back into her office.
    “You wanted to talk to us about your daughter?” she began.
    He nodded and said he had left work when he heard the news at nine that morning that had included a report about the dead girl the police had found.
    “What is your daughter’s name?” Louise asked.
    “Samra al-Abd,” the girl’s father said, pronouncing her name clearly. He added that his daughter was fifteen years old and was in the ninth grade.
    “How long has she been gone?”
    He shrugged his shoulders all the way up to his ears and, holding out his palms in despair, said it was hard to know. “We haven’t seen her since she said good night and went to bed Tuesday night.”
    The night before she was found out by H ø nsehalsen , Louise thought, feeling sorry for the man, who in a moment was going to find out his daughter was dead. Still, she wanted to try to get as many facts as possible about Samra al-Abd as long as the father was talking.
    “What about the next morning when she was supposed to go to school?” Mik asked. “Didn’t you notice if she left for school?”
    He was obviously also determined to get the father to explain himself, and he watched the man intently as he answered.
    “No, my wife doesn’t get up when our older kids leave for