“That one’s a little harder, sir.” I took a deep breath and tried to place myself in that room, watching the events unfold. Standing there, up against the wall, real quiet, observing.
“It’s early morning, and Birkeland was already up and bathed. We know he was an early riser. Probably he’s already dressed. Someone knocks on the door and Birkeland unlocks it, lets them in. Maybe they talk a while. Somehow the killer gets Birkeland to write that note, then kills him, quick, probably by breaking his neck. No signs of a struggle, so we have to assume it was done rapidly and efficiently. He opens the window and tosses out the body. Then he probably put the coin on the note, although I don’t know if he or Birkeland originally had it. Could’ve been either one of them. He unlocks the door and goes out into the hallway. He locks the door behind him, not wanting anyone to get into the room too soon because he needs to get away before the body and the note are found. He’s standing in the hallway, trying to figure out what to do with the key. He quietly tries a few doors until he finds one unlocked. Figuring he can kill two birds with one stone, he hides the key in Arnesen’s room so suspicion will be cast on someone else.”
“Wouldn’t that mean that Major Arnesen can’t be a suspect?” asked Kaz.
“If that theory held up, it would, except for the fact that Arnesen says he was in his room all night, so his door should’ve been locked. But before we even think about that, tell me how anyone could force Birkeland to write a suicide note and then kill him? He was a big fellow, and not exactly meek. Why would he go along with it? It doesn’t make any sense.” I shrugged.
“A commando could kill quickly and quietly,” Harding offered.
“Rolf?” asked Daphne. “I think he’s the only commando who stayed at Beardsley Hall after the exercise.”
“Unfortunately, that theory doesn’t fit either,” Harding said, negating his own idea. “Rolf met with the king before five o’clock this morning to go grouse hunting. According to Boyle, the murder, or death, occurred shortly after that. Rigor mortis and blood settling gave a pretty good estimate of the time of death. It occurred when Rolf and the king were out hunting, and the king provides a pretty good alibi.”
My head hurt. Nothing added up. Birkeland couldn’t have committed suicide in a locked room with no key in it, and there was no way I could see for anyone to force him to write a fictitious note and then kill him with no fuss or muss. Even if someone like Rolf had pulled a quick one and snapped Birkeland’s neck, how did he or she get him to write that note? Neither option made any sense. Maybe it was time to tell these guys that I never actually headed up a murder investigation before. Crowd control for my dad didn’t really qualify me. Maybe it was time to tell them I was basically a fraud. I decided to go at that one sideways.
“Major, are you going to call in the military police to conduct a real… an official investigation? They’ve got all kinds of resources that we could use.”
“No way, Boyle. This is exactly the kind of affair Ike wanted you on board for. If we bring a truckload of MPs in here, word would get out in no time. It would be embarrassing for the Norwegians and hurt the war effort, especially with the invasion coming up. You’ve got to track this thing down yourself. Lieutenant Kazimierz and Second Officer Seaton will assist you. If I can help, let me know what you need. Otherwise, it’s up to you. Plus, it will be an excellent cover for taking care of that other concern. I know you can handle it.”
I wanted to tell him he had the wrong guy. I wanted to tell him I was just a Boston Mick and I was like a fish out of water here in England. I doubted I could find out how Birkeland died, and I sure was no spy catcher. He needed to know that maybe our congressman oversold me a little bit to get me a job with Uncle Ike. Probably a lot. Yeah, I had been promoted to detective just before the war started, but I never even got to work a single case. Sure, I had worked a few here and there with my dad, but never as the detective in charge. Now, I was between that old rock and a hard place. If I told the truth about myself, Harding would send me to a rifle company and I’d find myself landing on a cold, stony shore in Norway in no time flat. If I didn’t, I’d probably screw up this investigation and never find the murderer, much less the spy. I was feeling pretty bad.
Maybe I should come clean and get it over with. Admit that what I did, what my family did, was wrong. Face the music. Easier said than done, if you want my opinion. It wasn’t just me who had pulled this off, it was my whole family. What was I supposed to do, turn state’s evidence on them with Uncle Ike? I thought about Dad throwing that package in the garbage. At some point, when you were in over your head, what became important wasn’t whatever you’d gone after in the first place, but something more indefinable. You couldn’t call it honor, not at this stage, not after you had gotten yourself in this deep. Avoidance of shame, that was more like it.
“Billy, darling, we’ll help you,” Daphne said, reading the struggle on my face, but not understanding how far back it went. “Look at everything we’ve found out so far! We can do it together.”
She reached out and put her hand on my arm while Kaz solemnly nodded his agreement. Well, maybe I was being too hasty. Why agonize over it? Why disappoint Daphne and Kaz? So what if the murderer got away? It had happened before and would happen again. Uncle Ike might not be too happy if I didn’t take care of this little problem, but he’d be a lot madder if he found out… found out the truth about me. It didn’t sound real pretty when you just came out and said it, did it? I shivered a little inside and tried to forget it.
“Sure we will, Daphne. We can do it. Major, we’ll ask a few more questions and then the three of us will regroup and decide what to do next.”
Harding nodded, as if he really believed I knew what I was doing. He seemed to have changed his opinion about me. It was as if he trusted me to get the job done.
“Very well, Lieutenant,” he said in a formal tone, sealing the deal on my assignment. “I’m going to meet with the king. He was very upset at hearing the news. He needed some time to compose himself. He and Birkeland had evidently been close friends for some time.”
“How did Rolf take it?” asked Kaz as Harding got up to leave.
“Surprised, but he seemed to take it in stride. He’s seen plenty of death and destruction in this war already. One more body wouldn’t shake him.”
“Did he come back with you?”
“Yes, but he’s gone by now. He had to get back to his unit. The Norwegian commandos have been moved to a new base at Southwold, up the coast, along with our Ranger and paratroop units.”
I’m not the most experienced detective around, but I knew that didn’t sound right. When you didn’t have one suspect, everyone was a suspect, and you didn’t let anyone waltz out the front door. I drank some more coffee, but it was cold.
“We should have questioned him first, sir.”
“Why? He obviously wasn’t involved if he left with the king to go hunting before Birkeland died.”
“It’s hard to explain, sir, but I need to talk to everyone. Rolf may know something he doesn’t even know is important.”
“I’ll pretend I understand that, Boyle. Don’t worry. They’ve got a big fence around the Southwold base. If you want him, you can find him there. Keep me posted.”
Harding strode out of the mess hall, confidently leaving his staff to solve a murder while he went off to hold King Haakon’s hands. It must be nice to be in command. Oh yeah, I was, too. In command of a little Polish baron and his beautiful English broad. If the guys at the precinct could only see me now. I was beginning to think I had gotten stuck with the short end of my own stick. How could I find the murderer if I couldn’t even keep track of the suspects? The suicide theory was beginning to look better by the hour. I tried to sound confident for my rookies.
“OK, here’s the deal. We’ve obviously missed something important, and we have no idea what it is. So we’ve got to split up and ask a lot of questions. Daphne, you’ve got the hardest job of all, one Kaz and I couldn’t even attempt.” I could see her eyes widen at the prospect. She was a real trouper.