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“Gladly,” Hana says and stalks up the stairs. “The sooner this is over, the better.”
I follow at a slower pace to wait for Dino, who has now parked the car and is walking towards us.
“What did you do to her to make her so angry?” he asks.
“I’m honestly not sure.”
But I plan to use that anger tonight. If I play my cards right, I just might be able to make her say more than she wants to say.
* * *
MARK
The NPB building is much more brightly lit-up tonight than it was the last time we were here, and the halls and rooms I pass are full of chattering people sitting behind computers or leaning against each other’s desks. Lots of them stop talking as I pass the rooms they’re in, but no one stops me or asks me where I’m going. I don’t find that particularly odd since by now, and especially after the last case we worked in conjunction with them, made me known to most of the people working here.
I find Brina in the room Sojer was using to construct his evidence board the other night. The board is still up and covered with a lot more photos, including some of a fancy country estate, papers and notes in a cramped, messy writing that I can’t read easily. Brina is standing to the side of it with Detective Kaja Šalehar who worked with us on the last case, and I interrupt a hurried and rather hushed discussion they were having as I walk in.
“Sojer is already interviewing Dr. Kline,” Brina informs me. “But he wanted us to give you a rundown of what he learned today.”
She turns to Kaia, who clears her throat and offers me her hand in greeting. “I was helping Sojer investigate the two doctors and their connections to the victims, and this afternoon, we struck gold.”
I nod for her to go on as she pauses to see if I’m following.
“For a time in the late nineties and early 2000s, they ran a retreat for troubled teens on a big farm in the Prekmurje region,” she says. “And all of the victims spent at least a little time there.”
I glance at the board and the pictures of the large country house and surrounding grounds make sense now. As do the few group pictures of teens dressed all in white.
“Is this it?” I ask, walking over to get a better look. I’m fairly certain I recognize Ana Kobe in one of the group pictures, even though her lanky, dark hair is covering her face.
“Yes,” Kaia says. “Those are all the pictures we could find online.”
“Is the place still open?” I ask.
“Yes, under a different name and different management,” Kaia says. “There were accusations of impropriety, and several of the patients there claimed the place was run more like a cult than a proper place of healing, but we’re still looking into that. As I understand it, the treatments were based on work therapy, hypnosis and meditation. In the beginning, it was part of the national health care program, but isn’t anymore, so we need a court order to look at their records.”
There are also printouts of several newspaper articles attached to the board, the headlines of which confirm what she’s telling me about the accusations.
“Kline still owns the farm, but him and Lap aren’t involved in the running of the institution anymore,” Kaia adds.
“And all the victims attended?” I ask. “Even the first ones?”
“What about the journalist who supposedly got the letter from the killer?” I ask. “Hana Pate?”
“I’d have to check that,” Kaja says and walks over to the board and unpins a stack of papers on which a list is of names is printed. Several of them are highlighted in neon green.
“No, I don’t see that name on this list,” she says after a while and hands it to me. “Check for yourself.”
I shake my head. “I wish to interview the suspects too. Can someone get Sojer?”
“He said you can go ahead and start with Lap, when you come in,” Kaja says.
“OK, show me where,” I say and wait for her to lead the way out of the room.
It makes sense that either Kline or Lap could be who we’re looking for. A doctor known and probably trusted by all the victims. They wouldn’t be as spooked by meeting them in the dead of night since they already knew them. And they would trust them enough for them to get as close as they need to be to use the knife.
I wish I had more time to go over all this new evidence and come up with the best angle of questioning them, but I can wing it too.
The door of this office flies open just as we reach it and Sojer storms in, red in the face and breathing hard, his small eyes shooting lightning. He tosses the leather folder he’s holding onto the first empty desk, sending his notes flying all over its surface and the floor around it.
