We concluded the interview there. I allowed her to go home, but asked her to stay there and under no circumstances to leave Oslo without my permission. She agreed to this, and added that she would be eternally grateful if I could help her to find out what had happened to her parents. If I had any further questions, I was more than welcome to knock on her door at any time. She gingerly placed a hand on my arm when she said this. And without being able to explain why, I remained standing by the window until I had seen her pass on the street, heading in the right direction.
The next person was, of course, Kristian Lund. He was involved in a heated discussion with Rønning Junior when I came out, and only with great reluctance joined me. ‘She is not going to get a single penny!’ was his first comment when we were alone. ‘First, she seduces me and tries to get me to leave my wife because she believes I will shortly inherit a million kroner. Then she goes behind my back and convinces my father that she should inherit the money herself. She is not going to get a single penny! I still have the right to my inheritance if I can prove that I am the son of the deceased Harald Olesen; even Mr Rønning had to admit that. And I will happily go to court to prove it!’
The latter was said with great emotion, but then he suddenly calmed down. Kristian Lund was a man capable of quick turnarounds.
‘I apologize for my outburst, and lying earlier on in the investigation, but it really has not been an easy situation. It was an enormous relief when I finally managed to get the stubborn old goat to give me what was my right. And how could I know that he would change it again?’
Kristian Lund could confirm that Sara Sundqvist had pressed Harald Olesen to tell her what had happened to her parents, but did not appear to know about the relationship between him and Olesen until he told her sometime in March. They had both been of the opinion that the old man looked ill and troubled, and had discussed the likelihood that he was suffering from a terminal illness. His death was therefore not unexpected, but the fact that he had been murdered had naturally come as a shock. When asked if he had shot Harald Olesen himself, Kristian Lund threw open his hands in exasperation and answered no, demonstratively. When I asked if he thought Sara Sundqvist might have committed the murder, he replied somewhat more cautiously that he still did not believe so.
Despite the gravity of the situation, there was somehow nothing more to say. Even in light of his late father’s betrayal, Kristian Lund was showing himself to be increasingly unpleasant and egotistic. But I had to admit that his explanation tallied well with the previous one. And it was good to be reminded that we, thus far, only had Sara’s word that she had not blackmailed Harald Olesen. So I allowed Kristian Lund to leave, with the order that he stay within reach. He assured me with a bitter smile that he would only be going out to get himself a damn good lawyer, but other than that had no plans except to look after his family and work.
It seemed natural to call in Mrs Lund, after her husband. My curiosity as to whether she was more than just the kind, pretty and not-so-bright housewife she appeared to be was definitely satisfied within the course of the conversation. The Karen Lund who answered my questions succinctly and effectively was very solemn indeed. My impression of her shifted from simple and quite naive to simple and very wilful. Yes, she had known about her husband’s relationship to Harald Olesen and the possibility that he would inherit. He had told her about it as soon as he had discovered it. Yes, she was also aware of her husband’s extramarital affair. Her suspicions had been aroused one day when they met Sara Sundqvist in the hallway and she had noted a look of triumph on Miss Sundqvist’s face and simultaneously felt a prick of conscience in her husband’s hand. This suspicion had been confirmed when she later phoned her husband at work one day only to be told that he had just left, yet he did not come through the door until an hour and a half later.
It had been an extremely difficult situation for her, especially because of her young son. She was neither willing nor able to confront her husband with clear evidence. Her response was therefore to be as kind and dutiful as she possibly could in her roles as wife and mother, which was something she could do, and in this way fight to keep her husband. And she was now quite sure that she had succeeded. If he still had any feelings for that devious Swedish woman, they had no doubt died the moment the will was read out. She herself believed that her husband deserved the money, given the shameful way in which his father had treated him, and she would support him if he went to court to secure it. But the question of the will was of less importance to her than whether he stayed with her and their son. Because Harald Olesen had treated her husband in the way he had, she had felt no particular grief when he died, though the fact that he was murdered had been a shock. But she still slept beside her husband every night secure in the knowledge that he had not killed anyone and was not likely to do so.
I could not help myself asking whether, notwithstanding his infidelity, she had ever re-evaluated her marriage. To which she simply shook her head. Yes, she had been jealous and even angry with her husband, but she understood that it was hard for him too, and that he had been seduced by the dark-eyed beauty. He had now also admitted it to her himself, and with tears in his eyes had begged her to forgive him. Which she of course did. Because he was her husband, the father of her son and the love of her life, whom she could not live without.
I thought to myself that Karen Lund had probably had a very conservative upbringing and had read a few too many romantic magazines, but the situation felt easier now it was clear that she knew about her husband’s affair. Her personal choices were none of my business, and her explanation was frank enough. So I commented that it would perhaps have been better if she had told me before, but added that I understood that she was in a very difficult situation and thanked her for being so honest now. She shook my hand with relief before she left, and nodded obediently when I requested that she stay at home in case of further questioning. I watched with mixed feelings as the Lunds passed outside the window shortly after, on their way home. They were holding hands and, if one did not know any better, looked for all the world like an ordinary young couple without a care in the world.
I called in Harald Olesen’s niece and nephew together. They were both upset by the fact that they were to go home without so much as a krone, having come in the belief that they were the main heirs. However, they had quickly got over the initial shock. Joachim Olesen started by apologizing for his behaviour during the reading. He pointed out that neither he nor his sister had any financial worries, and added that the will should not really have come as a surprise.
I sent him a questioning look, but it was his sister who answered. Harald Olesen had been a generous uncle to them since they were small, but he was also strict and distant. As he had no children of his own, he had often had strong opinions about their choices in life, and in their youth had expressed his views on their choice of education and sweethearts quite clearly. In later years, they had both had their own families to prioritize, and Harald Olesen had not exactly encouraged contact. After his wife’s death, he had more or less kept himself to himself. The niece and nephew both felt guilty for not having looked after their sick uncle more in the last months of his life, but there were old underlying tensions, and Harald Olesen had basically become a stranger who did not arouse much sympathy. When they phoned him, he was curt in his response. This seemed to tie in well with the possibility that something serious from his past had been plaguing him over the last few months, but they had no idea what it might be. The family had not known that Harald Olesen had a son from an extramarital affair. The name Deerfoot did not mean anything to them, but that was not so strange. Harald Olesen had been reluctant to talk about his experiences during the war, even to his brother when he was alive.