Devil's Touch Part 22

"They're always the ones that make it. They dig in and continue to fight."

His voice is only a whisper.

"Sorry, I didn't hear you."

Fredericsson smiles in surprise. "She has the hearing of a cat."

"I understand that you haven't had any breakfast today. I hope a croissant can help a little if you're hungry."

Petra walks over to him with a mug of coffee and a plate with a croissant on it. She's smiles at him with a very natural smile.

"I took the liberty of serving the coffee in a mug. That way you get more coffee. Here you go."

Fredericsson looks at her a little, but reacts fast when she hands him the plate and the mug. He takes the mug and the croissant, but lets her keep the plate. He's still looking at her and she continues to smile. She touches her lips gently.

"I hope I don't have lipstick on my teeth."

Once again, she surprises Fredericsson, and he notices with wonder how his voice is almost a whisper when he says: "No. No, there's nothing."

He turns away and drinks some coffee, and it burns his throat. The feeling makes him stop and his shoulders fall slightly forward.

"Did I mention that the coffee is very hot?"

He looks back just in time to see her smile and turn and walk into the kitchen with the empty plate. The officer is leaving the kitchen at the same time and steps aside to let her pa.s.s. Fredericsson looks at him and raises one eyebrow. He looks him calmly in the eye as he wipes his mouth clean and finishes chewing.

"Let's get to work."

The officer nods and smacks his lips a couple of times.

"That was some great croissants."

He swallows one last time.

"Let's get started."

"You haven't even tasted yours yet."

The officer nods at the croissant in Fredericsson's hand.

"I mean, if you don't want it, you can give it to me."

Fredericsson's eyebrows shoot upwards.

"Hmm."

He turns towards the office as he bites the croissant in half before swallowing it and stuffing the other half into his mouth.

"It's too good for that."

The officer has stopped, and looks accusingly at Fredericsson.

"Taste it, will you?"

"Is that really necessary?"

Crumbs are shooting out from Fredericsson's mouth as he talks.

"Yes. Take the time to chew it."

Fredericsson looks at him in despair while he chews. The officer stands in front of him, waiting and nodding.

"Good?"

Fredericsson smiles.

"Yes, and can we get to work now?"

"I saw some more in the kitchen. Do you want me to...?"

"No!"

Fredericsson walks over to the door of the office and stops while he brushes off the last crumps.

"Wow."

Fredericsson looks at the officer and waits until he gets eye contact with him.

"What did you say..?"

Fredericsson hesitates when the officer leans forward a little.

"What an office. It's like a dream! He spent a lot of time with the decorator to get it exactly right."

"Who?"

The officer quickly looks at him.

"Nathan Wilkins."

Then he looks at the office again.

"How did you know that?"

"Because I told him."

Petra is suddenly standing beside them.

"Did the office live up to his expectations?"

Fredericsson's question is automatic, the kind he always asks when he's surprised. She looks up at him.

"Yes, that was my impression. He also used the same decorator for other rooms in the house."

"Hmm. Why did you call the police?"

Fredericsson turns to face Petra and watches her face. "Actually, there's not much professionalism in that look." The thought crosses his mind and he finds it difficult to hide his smile, but caution takes hold of him when he sees that she keeps looking him in the eye.

"When I arrived, there was no one here. I came in around lunch after driving by the court house and some of our business partners. The strange thing was that the front door was locked. It's usually the first thing Nathan does in the morning. He walks straight to the front door and unlocks it. "The door needs to be open for our clients, otherwise we don't make any money," is what he usually says. But the door was locked when I arrived."

She swallows.

"Nathan wasn't in his office, so I entered the private part of the house and called out for him. But there was no answer."

She stops.

"I guess that can be explained, but the blood on his desk. I find that strange."

She looks at Fredericsson for a while.

"And then of course there's..."

She walks over to the desk, and returns with the broken credit card and hands it to Fredericsson.

"This was lying out by the door. I accidentally broke it when I stepped on it."

Fredericsson searches around in his pockets, looks at her and then back at the credit card.

"We need your fingerprints."

He pulls out a handkerchief and carefully takes the card from her hand.

"I didn't realize... So I just picked it up. It was the sound of it breaking that made me look down. I..."

Fredericsson shakes his head.

"Do you know who it belongs to?"

He looks at her again, and she nods.

"Yes, I read the name on it when I picked it up. She was here yesterday."

"Do you know her?"

Petra shakes her head.

"I wouldn't say that. Just another client."

Fredericsson looks at the name on the card and walks back to her desk where he carefully puts it down.

"Please, don't touch it."

He looks at both Petra and the officer.

"We can send it to the lab later. Has anybody else touched it?"

Petra shakes her head. Fredericsson looks at the officer who also shakes his head.

"Good."

Fredericsson's voice is a little deeper than before and he looks back at Petra.

"What do you know about this Evy Schmidt?"

Petra shakes her head.

"Well, she was a client, so I can't talk about it."

Fredericsson shoots out his lower lip and looks down into his coffee mug before emptying it greedily.

"Oh, more coffee?"

Fredericsson looks up at her.

"Yes, thank you. I'll go with you."

Fredericsson scowls at the officer and then follows Petra.

"Oh, it's empty. I'll just quickly make some."

"Thank you."

He looks at her for a little while.

"It seems like this Evy Schmidt might be interesting."

He stops and looks into his empty coffee mug.

"You know there are several ways I can get this information. But it will take time. Time Nathan Wilkins may not have?"

He looks directly at her. She looks back and turns off the water when it spills over.

"I've only seen her once. That was yesterday."

She looks out the door.

"She was here in connection with an inheritance. She had inherited some money... From Stuart Pettersson."

Fredericsson raises his eyebrows.