‘One could cancel all public engagements for the king, the prime minister and the opposition leader for the next two days. But one cannot lock them and all other potential targets up for the whole summer and autumn. Norway is an open country, full of important people who are constantly expected to make public appearances. If the attacker wants to take innocent lives, he could attack any holiday village or scout camp. And there are windows everywhere, so Falko’s final words are not of much use to us either.’
We had to accept that there were an alarming number of possibilities for a person who was well prepared and wanted to carry out an attack, and that we would not get any further that evening. I promised to ring her as soon as there was any news in the morning, and said that I still hoped and believed that we could solve the case without any further deaths. My voice sounded more confident than I was. The car felt unusually lonely and the dark unusually threatening as I drove home that night.
XVIII
It was well past midnight by the time I got home, but I still had one more telephone call to make – to my boss.
My boss was also obviously affected by the frustration of this potentially dangerous situation in which we knew that something was being planned, but had no idea about who was going to attack, or where and when. He answered the telephone as soon as it rang, and asked me to update him on the latest developments. He had only heard a brief announcement on the radio, in the last news of the day, that there had been a couple of deaths in Valdres.
I told him what had happened, and expanded on Patricia’s theory about possible connections – without mentioning her name, or being as cocksure.
My boss was impressed, much to my relief, in particular that I had thought about the missing jacket and the possible significance of this.
‘You have obviously thought of most things and done a good job. No one could have done better. But all the same…’
I felt my throat tightening. I knew what was coming and hated it intensely.
‘… All the same, we now have three unsolved murders and the danger of further action. There will be a tidal wave of questions tomorrow from our own people and the press. And I cannot justify letting you continue with the investigation without reinforcements.’
I was about to protest, but realized it was pointless. My boss had given me his trust for many days now, with no results. And it would seem odd if the investigation was not stepped up and prioritized following two more murders. So I said that I perfectly understood, but hoped that I would still be allowed to lead the investigation. He replied straight away.
‘Of course. I have absolute confidence in you and ask that you continue to report to me. You will be our contact with the local police in Vestre Slidre, and you can decide how many people you need here in Oslo. But from tomorrow, Detective Inspector Danielsen will be your deputy in the investigation. You can decide yourself how best to use him, but he will be part of the team.’
This made my blood boil, but I managed to control myself enough to thank my boss for allowing me to continue leading the investigation, and to say that I was sure I could find useful things for Danielsen to do. In a flash of inspiration, I said that the two Nazis should be called in for questioning again the next day, and that perhaps Danielsen could do that. My boss agreed and then wished me good night.
I could not help but chortle when I thought of Danielsen’s new task, but my good humour did not last long. I fell asleep around two o’clock in the morning of Tuesday, 11 August 1970. It was six and a half hours until I would greet what had the potential to be a very demanding day at work, with a still entirely unpredictable outcome.
DAY SEVEN: The countdown and the explosion
I
At a quarter to eight on Tuesday, 11 August 1970, I was once again on my way to the office, having wolfed down my breakfast. I had woken half an hour before the alarm clock, and immediately decided that I wanted to be in control of the agenda by being in the office before Danielsen.
There were no messages of any interest waiting for me on my desk. The morning papers only carried short notices about ‘two highly suspicious deaths in Valdres’, without mentioning any connection to me or to Marie Morgenstierne’s murder. Professor Arne Næss was on his way to show his support for the demonstrators in Mardøla, and the Institute for Nuclear Energy had suggested that building a nuclear power station in Porsgrunn could solve the country’s energy problems. And in Sweden, the debate regarding a ban on motorsport events had flared up again following a dramatic fatal accident during a rallycross race in Karlskoga. The fact that one of the five dead was a Norwegian guaranteed a front-page report in Dagbladet.
In short, there was no spectacle in the morning papers. The operator, however, reported a rise in the number of calls from journalists, even before eight o’clock.
I formulated a brief press release to confirm that two as yet unnamed people had been shot in Valdres, and that the police had linked these two deaths with that of Marie Morgenstierne in Oslo five days earlier. It was not possible to release any further details in light of the ongoing investigation. The investigation team had, however, been reinforced following the two latest murders, and the police believed there was a good chance that the case would be solved before the end of the week.
My hand trembled slightly as I wrote the final sentence. I was aware that this might buy me a couple of days, but that the pressure would quickly mount if there was still no good news by the time the weekend came round. Part of me trusted Patricia’s reassurances that the murder of Marie Morgenstierne would be solved in a matter of days now. And part of me would be happy if we managed to get through the next couple of days without a major catastrophe, given the situation.
I had secretly hoped that Detective Inspector Vegard Danielsen might be ill or have taken an unexpected holiday, but was of course disappointed. That only happened once every leap year, if that. Danielsen was already sitting in our boss’s office when I knocked on the door at a quarter past eight to get the press release approved. Luckily, my boss had no comments to make, and Danielsen limited himself to pointing out two possible comma errors.
My boss then confirmed that the investigation had been expanded to include Danielsen. To Danielsen, he pointed out that I was still leading the investigation. We both nodded quickly, and shook hands with forced friendliness.
For the next fifteen minutes I told Danielsen what I thought he needed to know about the case so far. I then repeated that it would be natural to call Frans Heidenberg and Christian Magnus Eggen in for questioning again, and asked if he could take on this important part of the investigation at such short notice. He nodded eagerly, and then left the office once he had the addresses and a copy of the photograph from Falko Reinhardt’s hotel room. I myself ran more than walked back to my office to carry on with the investigation, having first agreed with my boss that he would get an update during the lunch break at midday.
II
I had thought of giving the sad news to Kristine Larsen first, and then hearing if she had anything more to add. She had not heard about her lover’s dramatic death the evening before, and was still sleeping with a smile on her lips, according to the female prison warden. I thought it was going to be difficult enough to tell Kristine Larsen the news without having to wake her from a pleasant dream as well. So I left the quiet unit without having been in her cell, but instructed the warden that no one should talk to her until I returned.