I accepted the compliment and nodded quickly in agreement.
‘In that case, perhaps I should take a guide with me? I would manage to find the cabin on my own, I’m sure, but would have no idea of who was in which room and what happened where…’
Patricia kept a poker face to begin with. After a short pause, she nodded in agreement.
‘It could of course be useful. The most obvious person would be Trond Ibsen, or perhaps Kristine Larsen?’
Despite the gravity of the investigation, I relished the situation and smiled a little to myself before carrying on.
‘Both are certainly suitable candidates. However, I had thought of asking Miriam Filtvedt Bentsen first. It may be an advantage that she is someone who is no longer in the group, and more importantly, she is the one who claimed to have made these observations that night.’
Patricia had lost, and knew it. There were no good arguments against Miriam Filtvedt Bentsen, as she had already accepted that it would be good to have a witness with me from that stormy night.
Patricia swallowed hard a couple of times, left what remained of the salmon on her plate and drank the water in her glass. Then she accepted with grace and shook her head thoughtfully.
‘I would have thought she might not have time for such a long trip, given the amount she studies and works. And it is quite novel to take a guide with you who has no sense of direction. But goodness, it is up to you who you ask.’
She was soon on the offensive again, and leaned across the table in a manner that could be seen as aggressive.
‘If Miss Miriam Filtvedt Bentsen accompanies you to Valdres, you might try to tease out of her on the way why Kristine Larsen slept with the door ajar, and why Miriam herself was lying awake but with her eyes closed on the night that Falko disappeared. And in that context, please ask her about a detail I find unusually irritating, as I am very interested to see what she remembers. Kristine Larsen had wanted to leave the door ajar the night before as well; but was the door still open when Miriam Filtvedt Bentsen woke up the next morning?’
I immediately thought that this could only mean one thing. And that I still had no idea what that might be. Patricia had asked me apparently inexplicable questions about tiny details on several occasions previously, and these had always proved to be critical. I looked at Patricia, puzzled, and she for some reason suddenly looked irritated.
‘I am allergic to strange details in murder investigations – and the bedroom door is one such detail. And what is more, these days it would be as good as a medical sensation if a group of three young men and three young women managed to survive for several years without any secret liaisons or at least some jealousy. So there may be more than a couple of skeletons under the mattress!’
The latter was not an expression I could remember having heard before. I sent Patricia a sharp look and asked which mattress she was referring to, if that was the case. Patricia gave a disapproving shrug, which I took to be a good sign.
‘Well, we should not indulge in pure speculation. But the detail with the door is a tiny mystery within the mystery, which may prove to be of greater significance in solving the case than I imagine at the moment.’
I resisted the temptation to ask Patricia how much significance she thought it might have. Instead I asked her whether she had anything more to tell me about Falko’s disappearance. To my astonishment, she nodded.
‘The picture is becoming clearer. Regardless of how Falko managed to get out of the cabin, he left of his own will. In fact, there is much to indicate that it had been planned for some time. Add to that his egocentric personality and the suggestions of an imminent attack, and I don’t like the outcome.’
I looked at Patricia askance, and she sighed heavily. Her mood seemed to have plummeted even further.
‘Hmm, I am going to have to ask Beate for an extra teaspoon soon. Well, we are talking about a gifted only child who was worshipped and photographed by his parents every day as he grew up. He was naturally the life and soul of any gathering, liked to maximize the attention and seems to have had great faith in his own abilities. He was publicly known, though not as famous and successful outside his circle as he perhaps wanted to be. Imagine for a moment that you were someone like that, and that you had heard rumours about a planned future attack. And you feared that the person or persons planning this might pose a threat to you in the period prior to the attack. What would you do?’
Now I suddenly understood what she meant. I nodded in agreement.
‘I might well consider arranging to disappear, thus ensuring my own safety while retaining the ability to gauge the situation regarding the planned attack. And then, when the time was right, come back and save the day.’
Patricia nodded, but there was still no trace of a smile.
‘I think there is more and more to indicate that that is what happened. A man who was as resourceful as Falko could of course have secured a cover identity and financial means to live in another part of Norway – or countless other countries. So the fact that he might have gone under cover for two years is in itself not hard to accept. On the other hand…’
My eyes were trained on her in anticipation.
‘… On the other hand, it is something of a mystery why he has remained under cover for so long, and, it would seem, kept his parents in the dark. I see no other explanation than that he expected something major and dramatic to happen.’
My focus sharpened.
‘But if your theory is right, and Falko is once again out there on the streets of Oslo somewhere…’
Patricia nodded gravely and finished my sentence.
‘… then we can expect a large explosion of one sort or another soon. And if that is the case, we have no idea where or when things will explode.’
Patricia appeared to be deeply uneasy about the situation.
She twitched nervously in her wheelchair while the maid cleared the dinner plates and served ice cream for dessert. In the meantime, I was able to consider the situation in more detail.
‘And in that case, it may in some way be connected to the death of Marie Morgenstierne. But whatever the case, we have not come any closer to solving the murder today, have we?’
Patricia responded with a sullen shake of the head. She showed no interest in eating her ice cream.
‘No, you could hardly say that. It is both striking and rather unnerving that none of the witnesses who were walking behind her have come forward. I have at least six possible explanations in my head, but lack the information either to confirm or reject any of them. We will just have to wait and see what you get out of the security service tomorrow, and what your trip to Valdres might bring.’
I took the hint and stood up.
‘You are of course welcome to come for supper tomorrow evening. But if you take Miriam Filtvedt Bentsen with you to Valdres, remember to drop her off well before you come here.’
I smiled and assured her that I would remember to do that. Patricia’s mouth smiled back, but not her eyes.
I quickly thanked her for the evening. It had given us both a lot to think about. The ice cream was left half-eaten in my bowl, and untouched in hers.
XI
From time to time it still worried me that the professor and company director Ragnar Sverre Borchmann might feel some resentment towards me as a result of the stress and danger that my first murder investigation had entailed for his daughter. It was also possible that he might have heard about my late and hasty retreat at the end of my second murder case, and hold that against me too.
On my way out I therefore remarked to the maid, Beate, that I had not had the pleasure of meeting the man himself this time. I had noticed that the maid simply called him ‘the director’. It was no doubt a far grander title to her ear than professor.