Andreas Gullestad paused and sat lost in his own thoughts. Then he picked up the thread again.
‘Losing my father during the war should perhaps be less of a tragedy for me than for many others. After all, he left us money, a forest and land, so we did not suffer any hardship, and the local people were touchingly supportive and sympathetic. It did not take many months after liberation in 1945 before I unveiled a statue in memory of my father. But believe me, it is not always easy to grow up as the son of a statue. It seems that I never quite got over the shock. My father was such a great man, so reliable and robust – I don’t think I had ever imagined I would lose him. I managed well in school and my final exams, but then later I could never decide what I wanted to do. I lived in my own world and tried to work out which direction my father would have wanted me to take. And then there was my mother’s sorrow, illness and death. Now I can blame everything on the traffic accident, but the sad truth is that my life had already been on hold for a long time. I have been back as little as possible since then. I know only too well that the people there had expected better things of Hans Storskog’s only son.’
He finished his cup of tea.
‘So perhaps you can understand why I felt it was appropriate to change my name after the accident and why I would rather not talk too much about my father and the war. People are so different. Some think it is easier to talk about things, but I have come to the conclusion that it simply makes things worse.’
As I left his flat, I realized that Patricia’s concept of the human fly was a perfect description of Andreas Gullestad. The old psychological wound inflicted by his father’s death seemed to cause him more pain than the physical injury from the traffic accident. But neither of these had any direct relevance to my murder case – not for the moment, as it turned out.
VII
On Sunday, 7 April 1968, my working day drew to a close when I telephoned Patricia from my office around seven o’clock to give her a brief account of the day’s findings. This proved to be more complicated than expected. Patricia showed great interest in various details, particularly when we broached the topic of the relationship between Kristian Lund and Sara Sundqvist. The call soon extended to half an hour. However, we then agreed that there was not much more that could be done on a Sunday evening. Our conclusion for the time being was quite simply that the case was increasingly complex and the number of potential murderers was rising. Konrad Jensen’s position as main suspect was now facing stiff competition from not only Kristian Lund, but also Sara Sundqvist and Darrell Williams. The caretaker’s wife had thus far proved to be a liar and to have accepted bribes and was burdened by experiences from the Second World War, as was Andreas Gullestad.
Patricia finished by saying that, given the current stakes, it might be a good idea for me to keep her informed should any new information crop up that I was uncertain about. I said that she was right, and then drove home deep in thought. And so ended the fourth day of the investigation.
DAY FIVE: A Diary and Its Secrets
I
My day started at half past eight on Monday, 8 April 1968 with a phone call to Oslo’s main hospital. They recommended that I come as soon as possible if there was anything of importance to discuss with Anton Hansen. I thanked them and asked them to let him know that I would come by in the course of the day.
The history student Bjørn Erik Svendsen was at the top of my list for the day. I did not need to wait long. At twenty-five to nine, he was standing in front of me, out of breath, and apologized profusely that he had not got there sooner, thanks to a late bus. I realized it was Bjørn Erik Svendsen the history student as soon as he appeared in the doorway. His slim body, the spectacles on a chain round his neck and obligatory rucksack, as well as the Beatles hairdo and anti-war in Vietnam and pro-Socialist People’s Party badges could almost be one of the identikit drawings of ‘wanted’ students that I and a couple of younger colleagues made to entertain ourselves in lunch breaks. His handshake was firm, and his friendly voice picked up pace as soon as Harald Olesen’s name was mentioned.
The story of Bjørn Erik Svendsen’s acquaintance with Harald Olesen was simple and credible. Three years previously, he had started work on a thesis about the relationship between the Resistance movement and the communists, and after working on it for a year, he had tried to contact a handful of central figures from the Home Front. This had not been an entirely positive experience: Jesper Christopher Haraldsen and several other leaders had been rather arrogant and dismissed him, whereas Harald Olesen had immediately agreed to meet him, and despite differences in age and politics, the two had hit it off. Svendsen explained their friendship with the fact that Olesen had a considerable intellectual capacity. He swiftly added that it may also have been because Olesen had no children himself, and as a widower, his days were long and lonely. The thesis was redefined with a much clearer focus on Harald Olesen’s role. Olesen had himself read the first draft with great interest and had immediately agreed when Bjørn Erik Svendsen had suggested writing a biography about him. His thesis had now been with the examination board for assessment for four months, but Svendsen was so inspired at this point that he had already started to write the manuscript for the book project.
When I asked for a short presentation of Harald Olesen’s activities during the war, Svendsen immediately launched into a mini lecture. Olesen’s involvement in the war was interesting not least because his cover had never been blown, despite his considerable and complex involvement. He had for a period been one of the leaders of the Home Front, and had organized sabotage operations as well as civil-disobedience campaigns, and had himself smuggled refugees over the border. However, the greatest revelation in the manuscript was something that had happened in the final months of the war and the years immediately after. In close cooperation with American agents in Norway, Olesen had gathered information about the Norwegian communists that had later been leaked from the CIA archives. Consequently, Olesen was not only conspicuous in his role as a hero from the Resistance, but also for his role in the government’s cooperation with the USA after the war.
Svendsen firmly believed that his life story would generate great interest, even before his sensational murder. His knowledge of the murder case was limited, so he had as yet not formed any ‘theories as to the cause’, but based on his own findings, he could suggest several possibilities. Both paranoid American intelligence agencies and old Nazis seeking revenge had possible motives. When asked, he agreed that the same would be true of old communists, although he personally felt that an attack from those quarters was far less likely. He also thought Olesen’s political career was not likely to give grounds for murder. As a cabinet minister and in his other roles, he had been well respected by people both in and out of the party. He had never caused a stir in any of the major political debates during his time as cabinet minister, and indeed had ended his political career without any great conflict. The war had been his greatest and most dramatic success. He admitted himself that he had never been a shining star as a cabinet minister. Olesen had said that he had eventually asked for the prime minister’s permission to resign, in the knowledge that he would otherwise soon be pushed aside.