Then I more or less crept out of the cell, and whispered to the prison warden that she should call a nurse to be on the safe side. When she came to again Kristine Larsen could be released, if she was in a fit state. But it was possible that she might have to be admitted to hospital, and it was equally possible that she might feel safest if she stayed here for a few hours more.
The warden looked somewhat surprised, but nodded and touched her hat in an uncertain salute. I felt a bit of a coward when I left without looking back. But in truth there was little more I could do for Kristine Larsen here, and I still had three murders and a planned attack to solve.
IV
My desk was just as empty when I got back to the office. No messages. It suddenly dawned on me that I should perhaps let someone else know about the most recent developments, and that was Marie Morgenstierne’s father, the bank manager Martin Morgenstierne. I assumed that he would not want a long report, but realized it would be formally correct to give him a brief update if he wanted it.
I rang the bank first, but was told by the switchboard operator that the bank manager was not well and had taken both yesterday and today off. It was the first time he had taken sick leave for more than ten years, the switchboard lady said in a quiet voice. His daughter’s death had no doubt affected him more than he liked to show, she now almost whispered. I asked her to let him know that I had called if he was in the office again tomorrow.
After some hesitation, I tried to call Martin Morgenstierne at home, but put the telephone down when it had not been answered after five rings. I actually had nothing new to tell him about the murder of his daughter. And it seemed very unlikely to me that he would be able to tell me anything that might help me in the hunt for the person or people out there who were now planning an attack.
A few minutes later, I got a far more interesting telephone call. On the other end was the sheriff in Valdres. He sounded very flustered today.
‘We have examined both the crime scenes and found something that could be of great interest. I have already sent it with my son in a car to Oslo, but I thought that I should call and let you know as well.’
I said that was kind, and asked what they had found.
‘I really am impressed by… just as you said, we found a jacket that clearly belongs to Falko Reinhardt. It had been blown about, but then was stopped by a boulder some yards away from the cliff. The jacket was wet from the rain, so you can forget the idea of any fingerprints. But the pockets were zipped, and what was inside is intact. And if you can guess which three things we found in the pockets, I am your humble servant.’
I felt the pressure, but in my mind I thanked Patricia with all my heart as I replied: ‘I think that you found a wallet and a key ring that included the car key, and I hope that you also found a page from a notebook with some strange handwritten notes.’
There was a small gasp at the other end, and then an even more impressed voice.
‘I have no idea how things are done in Oslo, but you certainly have managed to impress a mere country sheriff. That is precisely what we found. They told me nothing, but I am sure it will mean something to you. I examined them quickly and then sent them with my son to the main police station in Oslo. The wallet contained a driver’s licence and some banknotes in several currencies, as well as some boat tickets that would indicate that he sailed from the Soviet Union to Germany, and arrived in Oslo a couple of weeks ago. But there was not much more in there. The page with the handwritten notes did not name any people or places, so you mustn’t expect to get a great deal out of it.’
I asked if the page looked as though it had been torn from a diary and if the sheriff had transcribed the text. There was a moment’s silence at the other end, before he hesitantly continued.
‘Yes, it could well have been a diary, the edge was torn and the page had several dates on it. But I am afraid that I did not write down the text. I should of course have done so. I just thought that as there was nothing obvious there, it would be best to send the jacket to you immediately.’
I felt enormously irritated with the sheriff, but could only forgive him when he carried on hastily: ‘It was a mistake, I realize that now. And I apologize deeply. But you will have the jacket and its contents soon enough now. My son drove directly from the scene of the crime, and he left about an hour ago now, and was told that it was urgent. So he should be there in no more than two.’
The sheriff sounded disheartened and he really had done his best to help me. So I thanked him sincerely, and promised to contact him as soon as there were any new developments in the case. He was almost touched by this and repeated that I should have the jacket and the diary page by around half past one. I told him that the fact that it had been found was a huge breakthrough in the investigation.
We finished the call on a good note, though I was silently annoyed at not knowing what it said on the missing diary page.
I telephoned Patricia and gave her a brief report about what had happened so far. She sounded very stern, but whistled appreciatively on hearing about the jacket. She asked me to come over with it as soon as possible, and she would ensure that a late lunch was waiting.
We would have plenty of time to look at the diary page before the opposition leader’s speech at half past four, but not before the prime minister’s speech at three, I said.
Patricia sighed into the receiver and said that it was hard to justify the sudden cancellation of such an important event without a definite threat. But she added that I should come as soon as I could if the missing page proved to contain anything of interest.
V
There was a spread of open sandwiches on the table in my boss’s office when I got there at two minutes to midday. And Danielsen was already sitting comfortably in the chair closest to our boss.
I told them that Falko’s jacket had been found, and that it might well contain something of interest, without giving any more details; but that other than that, I had no news of any significance. Both nodded, but did not show much interest in the jacket.
I asked Danielsen, not without some schadenfreude, if he had made any progress in his meetings with the two former Nazis. He took his time.
‘Well, it would be untrue to say that. They were very uncooperative to begin with, and even though things did improve, there is little that is new. They either do not remember, or do not want to remember, anything about the fourth person in the photograph. And as for alibis for yesterday, they both have one. They had a meal together at the Grand Café between four and six, and I have confirmed this with the head waiter there. I asked, just in case, if the staff could remember having seen them there with others, but they couldn’t. It is of course difficult to remember months back, when the place is so popular. And by the way, Mr Eggen commented that we only had to ask the officers watching his house if we wanted to know when he went out.’
We all smiled slightly sheepishly. I said that I knew nothing about his house being under surveillance.
‘Generally, the two of them have very little confidence in society, the police in particular. They obviously feel they are being persecuted for their political views. And given their background, it is easy to have some sympathy, no matter what one might believe and think about their politics.’
My boss and I both looked at Danielsen with slightly raised eyebrows. He quickly changed tack.
‘Neither of them is particularly nice, though one of them is more polite than the other. Having said that, their criminal offences are now well in the past, and I am not convinced in any way that they have much to hide now.’
I stared at him, my eyes wide, but noticed with some concern that my boss seemed to show more interest. Danielsen obviously noticed this too, and straightened up in his chair before continuing with his argument.