“Let’s go Herr Haugen. Now.”
“Ja,” replied the engineer meekly as his co-workers stared.
Sohlberg was pleased. Everything was going according to plan. He could have questioned Gunnar Haugen quietly and in private after work or had him called down to the Human Resources department. Instead the public scene of being questioned at work guaranteed that the father’s co-workers would immediately call family and friends and that within an hour the media would issue reports about ‘breaking developments’ in the Karl Haugen case. The media frenzy would put intense pressure on Sohlberg’s next best suspects — the mother and the stepmother.
The HR manager escorted them to a windowless conference room and left. Wangelin took out a tape recorder and dictated the date and time and the identity of the persons in the room.
“Are we going to be here long?”
Sohlberg glared. “Do you have something more important Herr Haugen than answering questions about your missing son?”
“No. . I was just wondering how long this will take. I have classes after work. . down the street. . on Nydalsveien.”
“What classes?”
“I’m enrolled in the executive M.B.A. program of the Handelshoyskolen B.I. . the B.I. Norwegian School of Management.”
“Oh really?” said Sohlberg as he took off his coat and sat down. “Believe it or not I’m familiar with it Herr Haugen. . it’s one of the largest business schools in Europe. I almost went there instead of law school. I think we drove past it. . a modern monster of a building. . does it take up the entire city block?”
“Ja. . that’s it.”
“I’m impressed. . I remember when they were much smaller and went by the old B.I. name of Bedriftokonomisk Institut. . Institute of Managerial Economics.”
“That was before my time.”
“I see. Well. . to answer your question. . I have no idea how long we’re going to be here. I guess a lot depends on your cooperation and answers. Ja?”
“I. . I don’t know what you want from me. I’ve cooperated with everything that the police have asked of me.”
Gunnar Haugen look surprised and somewhat worried. Sohlberg’s strategy of surprise was working despite the likelihood that Karl’s doctor had already called one or both of the parents. A thought struck Sohlberg: if the doctor had indeed telephoned a warning then had the warning only gone to the stepmother and not to the father?
Had the stepmother kept the warning to herself?
If that was the case then why did she not pass the warning on to her husband?
“Herr Haugen. . before we discuss whether you have actually cooperated with us let me first explain why I’m here since I noticed you did not bother asking me why we’re here.”
Gunnar Haugen said nothing. Instead he assumed the stoic look that everyone in Norway knew from watching Gunnar Haugen’s image on television and newspapers and magazines.
“I have two assignments Herr Haugen. First. . I’m here to make an arrest.”
Haugen blinked nervously.
“Second. . I’m here to make sure that we have more than enough evidence to convict.”
“Wait,” said Gunnar Haugen as if waking up from an afternoon nap. “Where’s Nilsen? I thought he was in charge of the case. He knows I cooperated.”
“Nilsen is out. I’m in charge now. All I can tell you is that after carefully reviewing all of the case files. . I don’t see how you can claim that you’ve cooperated. Quite the opposite.”
“Nilsen knows that we helped as much as we could.”
“Ja. . you helped yourselves. . not your son. Anyway. . as I was saying. . I reviewed the case files and all of the interviews with you and your wife and I could only come to one conclusion. You and your wife bamboozled Nilsen with lies and half-truths.”
Haugen stared at the table.
“Unfortunately for your son Chief Inspector Nilsen took everything you and your wife said at face value. He questioned nothing. Anyone who hears the interviews or reads the transcripts immediately realizes that you live in a fantasy world or are a lousy liar. . or both. Nothing that you and your wife have ever said to the police makes any sense.”
Sohlberg expected an indignant outburst or at the very least a protestation of innocence. He got neither from Haugen who remained wrapped in his silent stoic mantle.
“Why didn’t you go into work on the Friday that your son disappeared?”
“Our daughter had been up all night crying. I felt too tired to put in an honest day’s work.”
“And yet you supposedly worked all day on your computer at home from eight in the morning until three in the afternoon.”
Haugen said nothing.
“Whose idea was it for you to stay home that day?”
“I. . I don’t know. I guess both of us. My wife needed me to stay with the baby while she took Karl to the science fair.”
“Who packed Karl’s lunch for that Friday?”
“I. . I don’t know.”
“Who usually packed his lunch?”
“Well. . it depends. . some days I did. . others day my wife.”
“So you’re a top up-and-coming manager at Nokia. . and you’re also going to Business School and yet you have the time to prepare his lunch?”
“I. . ja.”
“Why doesn’t your wife prepare his lunch all the time?”
Silence.
“Herr Haugen. . your wife’s unemployed. She has all the time in the world to pack his lunch. She seems to be in very good health. So. . tell me. . why doesn’t your wife prepare Karl’s lunch all the time.”
“That’s just the way it is.”
“I see. We just have to take your word for it. Right?”
Silence.
“Can anyone corroborate your claim that you sometimes packed his lunch?”
“I. . ”
Sohlberg took out a Polaroid picture of Karl’s backpack. The picture was taken by the police at Froken Boe’s room on the day of the disappearance. Sohlberg pointed at the picture and said, “Is this your son’s backpack?”
“I think it is. Ja. . Maybe.”
“I’ve looked inside that backpack. . and guess what? There was no lunch in the backpack.”
Silence.
“No lunch. . that means only one thing Herr Haugen. You or your wife or both of you never expected Karl to be around to eat his lunch at school. That’s why one of you didn’t pack his lunch. That was a major slip-up. Do you care to explain it?”
Silence.
Sohlberg noticed that Gunnar Haugen’s right eye was flickering wildly.
Was Gunnar Haugen trying to figure out what lie to tell about the missing lunch?
“There’s another very odd thing that I found,” said Sohlberg who switched topics to keep Gunnar Haugen off balance. “I read the transcript of your third interview and found something rather unusual.”
Silence.
“You stated that your wife Agnes Haugen is a very good mother. Is that true?”
He nodded.
“Please answer me with words Herr Haugen. The tape recorder can’t pick up your head nodding. . so I guess for the record that means yes. Anyway. . you told us that your wife taught Karl sign language at age six. Ja?”
“Ja.”
“And yet Karl is not deaf. . his doctor told us that he is a perfectly normal child from a medical and physical point of view.”
“He is.”
“So he’s not deaf?’
“No.”
“Then why would your wife teach him sign language?”
“I. . well. . you know. . she’s a teacher. . she has a master’s degree in education and a license to teach elementary school.”
“But she’s not licensed to teach deaf children. . is she?”
“I. . I don’t know.”
“She never taught sign language to Thor. . her first son. . did she?”
“I. . I don’t know.”
“One last time Herr Haugen. . why would your wife teach your son sign language when he’s not deaf?”