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Edvard Rønning Junior surprised me, however, in a positive sense, when he made no attempt to sit down in the empty chair, but instead remained standing at the head of the table. As expected, he started precisely as the cuckoo clock on the wall struck three.

‘On behalf of the late Magdalon Schelderup’s estate, I would first of all like to thank you all for making the effort to come here today as requested, at such short notice.’

He received no applause for this, and so continued after his first forced pause.

‘It is no doubt known to all those present here that at the time of his death Magdalon Schelderup was married and had three living children, and a fortune amounting to more than 100 million kroner. In this situation he was free to divide his wealth as he wished, with the exception that each of the children should inherit a minimum of 200,000 kroner, as required by law.’

The lawyer paused again and leafed through his papers to find the will. Ten pairs of eyes were glued to his every move. I personally was having difficulties in deciding which side of the table to focus on. I eventually decided to watch the person I was most interested in and about whom I had the greatest doubt: in other words, the deceased’s secretary and mistress, Synnøve Jensen. She was sitting on her chair with impressive calm thus far.

‘The deceased’s will was clearly certified and dated by a lawyer in the presence of witnesses on 6 May 1969.’

Something twinkled in Synnøve Jensen’s eyes. She straightened up, but remained sitting in silence, her face tense. I glanced quickly over at Sandra and Maria Irene Schelderup. The mother’s mouth twitched when the date was mentioned. The daughter’s face, on the other hand, remained expressionless and looked relaxed. Only her eyes, which were riveted on the lawyer, revealed just how alert she was.

‘The aforementioned will states as follows: The undersigned, Magdalon Schelderup, born on 17 November 1899, hereby announces his last will regarding the division of his financial wealth and assets. Firstly, I waive the amount outstanding owed to me by Hans Herlofsen, my manager of many years. The promissory note and other documents relating to the case have been destroyed.’

Edvard Rønning allowed himself another pause. I promptly switched focus to Hans Herlofsen. He was also keeping his mask impressively under control. The two sentences that had just been read out saved not only his honour but also his future. All the same, his only reaction was a fleeting smile and a slight loosening of the tie. Then Rønning’s drawling voice picked up the thread and continued. My eyes swung back towards Sandra Schelderup.

‘My wife Sandra Schelderup shall be paid forthwith the sum of two million kroner to support her for the rest of her life.’

His widow furrowed her brow, and understandably enough her eyes darkened. The sum was undoubtedly less than she had hoped. But she stayed sitting calmly on her chair. The major blow was not to her, however, but to her daughter, who was sitting beside her, just as composed. My gaze slid over to Synnøve Jensen.

‘I hereby acknowledge that I am the father of my secretary Synnøve Jensen’s unborn child, and request that it be given my surname upon birth. It is my wish that Miss Jensen shall forthwith be paid the sum of 200,000 kroner from my estate to cover all costs in connection with the pregnancy and birth.’

If Synnøve Jensen had known this beforehand, she was a better actress than I had imagined. In the few seconds before she covered her face with her hands, her expression changed from great surprise to tremendous relief. The tears in her eyes were visible even from where I was sitting.

Another, more visible twitch passed over Sandra Schelderup’s face. The other faces around the table were, as far as I could see, still tense and expectant when the lawyer once again spoke, this time to read out the final and longest paragraph of the will. The fact that the secretary was the deceased’s mistress did not seem to have come as a shock to any of them.

‘It is my wish that the remainder of my wealth is divided equally between my four living children as of 6 May 1970. This because my youngest child must first be born and given a name, and because any immediate dissolution of my companies would give rise to inordinate financial costs. In anticipation of the later dissolution, my companies will continue to be run by a board comprising my three grown children, my wife Sandra Schelderup, my manager Hans Herlofsen and my secretary Synnøve Jensen.’

Now all the waiting was over. This time the surprise around the table was tangible, even though they all maintained a stiff upper lip and avoided any emotional outbursts. Fredrik Schelderup smiled broadly and mimed his applause. Ingrid Schelderup also smiled with relief. Her son, on the other hand, chewed ever more furiously on his gum and looked just as serious and pensive as before. Mrs Wendelboe looked around in confusion and even her husband’s stony face showed signs of surprise. Synnøve Jensen still had her face buried in her hands, but the tears were falling, round and ready, down her cheeks now. Sandra Schelderup sent both her husband’s sons and his secretary a less-than-loving look, and clenched her hands.

The only person at the table who appeared to be unruffled was, incredibly, the youngest. Maria Irene Schelderup’s face and body were both still completely relaxed. Her charming young girl’s hands lay open and still on the table.

‘However…’

A tense silence fell in the room as soon as the lawyer’s voice was heard. This time, I also stared at him in anticipation. This was not something he had mentioned on the telephone.

‘However, an earlier version of the will exists, which Magdalon Schelderup gave orally and which he wanted to be read out with his current will. It was written on 12 August 1968 and was then annulled when this new will was formalized on 6 May 1969. The annulled version is far shorter…’

He took another short, dramatic pause while he looked for the second sheet, and then apparently checked three times that it was the correct one.

‘The annulled will stated the following: With the exception of two million kroner to be paid to my wife Sandra Schelderup, 200,000 kroner to be paid to my son Fredrik Schelderup and 200,000 kroner to be paid to my son Leonard Schelderup, I hereby leave all my financial wealth and assets to my daughter Maria Irene Schelderup.’

Suddenly all the dammed-up emotions in the room broke loose. Audibly.

Hans Herlofsen heaved a sigh of relief, clutched his throat and loosened his tie further.

Fredrik Schelderup’s smile was even broader this time and he raised his glass with a joviaclass="underline" ‘Here’s to the new will.’

Leonard Schelderup hid his face in his hands, but judging by the movements in his neck, he was chewing more frantically than ever on his gum.

Sandra Schelderup looked daggers at him a couple of times and then lost all composure. The atmosphere was electric and everyone, including Mr Rønning Junior himself, started when she flew into a rage, first slamming her fist down on the table and then shaking it threateningly at her two stepsons.

The only person who appeared not to be affected by this outburst was the very person my eyes were trained on.

As the annulled will was being read, I thought I saw the very tip of her tongue in the left-hand corner of her mouth. But afterwards, Maria Irene Schelderup was just as impassive as before.