He grinned. ‘Investors, I mean, naturally. At any rate people who would invest, people who would risk their money on the emperor’s new clothes. And, as you know, the poor co-owners have no rights at all when the company goes belly up. They’re owners themselves and are left to face the music.’
Frølich whistled.
‘It’s what Svennebye said,’ the balding officer continued indefatigably. ‘Software Partners consists of two groups of employees. Those who are in the know and those who aren’t. Those who aren’t are the external façade, such as Reidun Rosendal, the babe with the long legs and attractive face who travelled around visiting customers and charming them into ruin.’
Frank Frølich was reminded of the pipe smoker in the fossilized office shop. The old chap would be kissing goodbye to his hard-earned supplementary pension. That much was certain.
‘The company didn’t have any money,’ Gunnarstranda went on. ‘Reputable suppliers were no longer giving payment extensions to Engelsviken. Hence the tango with the legal machinery to have goods returned and compensation paid.’
Frank met Gunnarstranda’s eyes as he glanced up to see if he was following. ‘This in turn hit Bjerke in A/S Ludo,’ the inspector went on. ‘You see, Bjerke had twenty-five thousand kroner invested in Software Partners. But he didn’t get a bean in compensation. That’s why he took up proceedings against SP, as he calls them.’
The inspector wagged his forefinger. ‘Then Engelsviken’s solicitor considered it time to dig up some old evidence. Do you understand what I mean?’
Frank nodded. He had taken his foot off the accelerator. The queue was moving a bit now and he could let the car roll forward in neutral.
‘Brick considered the time ripe to remind Bjerke what an accountant risked as a result of forging documents.’
Gunnarstranda gave a wry smile. ‘Dear Joachim, this bench-vice is going to squeeze your balls. You can do as I say, or would you prefer a falsetto voice?’
Frank closed the window as they drove into Oslo Tunnel. Bent forward and switched off the fan so as not to inhale exhaust fumes. The queue was still slow-moving and the air not exactly pure forty metres under the ground.
‘Bjerke withdrew the lawsuit against Software Partners in an attempt to placate them,’ the inspector went on. ‘But Brick and Engelsviken had tasted blood. They’d won a couple of cases already, and sensed a chance to extort money out of Bjerke as well. So Brick demanded two hundred thousand from Ludo in compensation.’
Frank whistled again. This time sucking his teeth.
‘Bjerke was caught like a nut in a nut-cracker. Software Partners owed him twenty-five thousand in fees, and now there was a risk he might lose his licence or go to prison if he didn’t fork out two hundred thou to the same two bastards.’
‘That’s what I call two cool customers.’
‘Yes, Engelsviken and his solicitor!’
Gunnarstranda nodded to himself. ‘But now I suppose the game is up. Davestuen and the boys were there before eight this morning. Audit and seizure. Davestuen decided after talking to Svennebye for a few hours and an hour with me last night. So we’ll have to hope they can collect enough evidence for a charge. At any rate, the company Software Partners is a con.’
He smiled mirthlessly. ‘And will be bankrupt by tomorrow, I presume,’ he added.
‘What did Bjerke do when he was squeezed for two hundred thousand?’
‘The man knew that Engelsviken and Brick were capable of anything. And the evidence against Bjerke was a bloody good hand to have in that situation!’
‘It’s blackmail, pure and simple.’
‘Precisely. Bjerke had threatened them, tempted them, tried to negotiate with them without any success. As he said last night, the way out was a crowbar at night. He had to try to get hold of the evidence and destroy it. That was why he broke into and went through the premises of Software Partners with a fine-tooth comb, but he found nothing.’
Frank looked left and optimistically switched lanes. He felt a need to ask what he perceived as the crucial question.
‘Why did Bjerke have it in his head that the evidence was in Reidun’s flat? What made him break in?’
‘He received a call telling him to go and look there.’
Frank leaned back in the seat. The traffic was at a standstill again. Listened to his boss’s dry voice:
‘It was the Sunday Reidun was killed. Bjerke was woken up by the telephone ringing early in the morning. There was a crackle on the line and Bjerke knew it was someone with a mobile.’
Gunnarstranda looked across. ‘The voice on the phone said four words,’ he said, aping Bjerke.
‘Reidun has the originals.’
‘The sentence was repeated twice,’ he said. ‘Then the line went dead.’
Gunnarstranda paused.
‘Bjerke lay in bed thinking,’ he said and hesitated. ‘As Bjerke said to me: After all, I hadn’t thought of anything else except the bloody papers for months.’
Gunnarstranda continued with the man’s story: ‘He was surprised. Would a saleswoman in a computer company be trusted with papers? His own neighbour? Could that be right? No, he decided. The telephone call was just another stratagem in Brick and Engelsviken’s war against him. So Bjerke stayed in bed thinking. Then he put on his jogging gear and went for his daily run.’
Gunnarstranda interrupted himself: ‘Just imagine. The man rushes around the streets with sweat flying off him before anyone else has even got up and had a piss. Every bloody day! Just imagine if this misguided country could make positive use of that energy!’
Gunnarstranda slowly took out a cigarette.
‘Not here!’
Frank held his hand over the cigarette lighter. ‘We’re under the ground and need all the oxygen we can get!’
Gunnarstranda put the cigarette back in his pocket and went on: ‘As Bjerke had drawn a blank in the Drammensveien office, he conceded that one of the employees might be looking after the evidence. The girl didn’t need to know what it was she had in her safekeeping. So his jog ended up being shorter than usual. He ran back. Rang Reidun’s bell, but she didn’t open. One look inside and he knew why.’
‘Nice guy,’ Frank blurted.
‘You’re right,’ Gunnarstranda said in a chill tone. ‘He’s a cool customer as well. And now he has an extra problem.’
Frank raised his eyebrows.
‘His wife. She did not appreciate what she heard him telling me.’
Gunnarstranda turned his head. Looked out of the window. He talked about her fury. The accusations. The husband who would expose his child to such trauma on the staircase. Her husband. The pumped-up toad with the fringe. All the arrogance was gone. Huge sweaty patches under his arms and a squeaky voice: “Mia, you’ve got to understand me. Mia!” She’ll sort that out, though. She deserves better than a bookkeeper. Do you know what he reminds me of?’
‘Nope.’
‘The kind of prissy oaf who goes in for dancing competitions. Cheesy grin, not a hair out of place, despite falling on his face and rolling over four times. The man just jumps to his feet and dances Swan Lake with a Colgate smile on his chops.’
‘Those porcelain teeth, you mean?’ Frølich grinned. ‘What’s she like, his wife?’
Gunnarstranda stared out of the window for a moment. ‘Great,’ he answered at length. ‘What the suits call a safe pair of hands.’
‘And now?’
‘I assured them that he was not under suspicion.’
‘How can you be so bloody sure of that?’ Frank’s tone was sharp.
‘Because Bjerke didn’t kill her.’