‘The investigation is continuing to make significant breakthroughs. We now know who went to see Bratberg, and we have confirmation that the Wendelboes and Herlofsen did speak and may have had some form of plan to deal with Magdalon Schelderup. So now more than ever, all parties have some kind of motive to murder Magdalon Schelderup, but we lack any evidence that someone actually carried this through.’
She said nothing for a moment, but then carried on forcefully.
‘But we do know one thing for certain: the circumstances and incidents are so numerous that none of the guests could have acted alone. All of them could have committed one or more murders, but no one could have done it all.’
I could not follow her.
‘Maria Irene and Sandra have alibis for Leonard’s death. But the others, well, alibis are still sorely lacking…’
Patricia shook her head.
‘For the murders, yes, but not for other things. All of them could have put the powdered nuts in Magdalon Schelderup’s food, and all of them could have posted the threatening letters. But all of them could not have phoned Leonard to scare him. It would have been impossible for Magdalena to do it, as, according to the neighbour, she was already there. Hans Herlofsen was sitting in a meeting at the office when the phone call was made. And I think we both agree that Ingrid Schelderup could not have killed her son.’
I was increasingly bewildered.
‘What about the Wendelboes then? Either of them could have called him, or they could have phoned together, and committed both murders?’
Patricia gave an impatient shake of the head.
‘Yes, in theory, but they could not have slashed the tyres on Magdalon Schelderup’s car. They were still in Bergen when he telephoned you about that.’
It slowly dawned on me that this was not only true, but that it could also be of considerable importance.
‘So, what you are saying now is that it must be a conspiracy between two or more of the guests who are still alive?’
Patricia nodded pensively.
‘That is absolutely a possibility. It may also be that there was no organized conspiracy, but that it was more a case of out-of-orbit satellites crashing into each other. Which I think is just as likely. But it is definitely worth bearing in mind that there are obviously several people who have committed a crime here.’
Patricia helped herself to a piece of cake, but sat with it in her hand for a while before she started to eat it slowly.
‘I still think that Wendelboe would find it hard to lie to a policeman. Ask him about his wartime threat, ask if they discussed any concrete plans with Herlofsen about how to bump off Schelderup, and ask Mrs Wendelboe if she telephoned Leonard Schelderup on the evening he was murdered. I hope that they will give you answers that can help us progress. Otherwise…’
Neither of us said anything for a moment. I unfortunately had a good idea of what she was going to say when she continued.
‘Otherwise, we know quite a lot, but not what you should do tomorrow. I do not think there is much hope of squeezing out any more information and it is not obvious where else we might look. So we still lack a catalyst that will help to wind up the case.’
I nodded in agreement and believed that Patricia was thinking the same as me. In other words, that yesterday’s letter had implied that there would be another murder, and that was not the catalyst that we wished for in the investigation.
I left 104-8 Erling Skjalgsson’s Street with an uneasy feeling that a new catastrophe was imminent, but I did not know where, when or whom it might impact. With a pang of anxiety, my thoughts turned to Maria Irene, who only a few hours earlier had been so soft and warm and trusting in my arms during our interrupted dance at Schelderup Hall.
X
I arrived at the Wendelboes’ house in Ski once again at around seven o’clock. This time it was Mrs Wendelboe who opened the door with a brave smile and showed me into the living room, where her husband was already seated. The atmosphere was tense, though they both said that they perfectly understood my situation and apologized for not having told me things before that they perhaps should. The tension eased a little when I said that there were perhaps also questions I should have asked sooner.
It was inevitable, however, that my new questions would ratchet up the tension again. As regards his sharp warning to Magdalon Schelderup during the war, Wendelboe immediately admitted to it. They had been in a very difficult situation and he had doubted Schelderup’s loyalty. Mr Wendelboe had, only in our last meeting, admitted that he would have considered direct action against Schelderup if it could be proved that he was guilty of killing his brother-in-law. He did not believe it was certain that Schelderup was guilty, and so had dismissed the idea of doing anything now. Herlofsen had outlined various possibilities and had mentioned times and weapons that might be used. The Wendelboes claimed that they had not wanted to go ahead with any plans. Neither of them had heard Herlofsen mention anything about poisoning, and certainly not in connection with powdered nuts or the Sunday suppers. That is, if one was to believe their joint explanation.
But the real drama happened when I turned abruptly to Mrs Wendelboe and asked her directly if she had telephoned Leonard Schelderup on the night that he was killed. She burst into tears. Her husband looked at me intently, but I also caught a small glimpse of respect in his eyes. Once again, it was he who answered.
‘My wife has had to live with a heavy burden and it has been weighing on her even more in recent days. We hope that it will not be necessary to tell Mrs Ingrid Schelderup about this episode. My wife and I had nothing to do with Leonard Schelderup’s death. But it is unfortunately the case that my wife phoned him and made a threat in the hope that he would confess to the murder of his father. We have obviously realized with hindsight that he had nothing to do with it, and that this does not have anything to do with his death. But it has been hard for my wife to live with the knowledge that she unjustly made such a threat to a young man who only hours later was killed himself.’
I looked questioningly at Mrs Wendelboe. She was still sobbing, and nodded three times before she managed to find her voice.
‘What my husband says is true; it is terrible, and he knew nothing about it. I knew that we had nothing to do with Magdalon Schelderup’s death. But we had only days before sat here with Herlofsen and discussed the possibility of murdering Magdalon Schelderup. I was terrified that Herlofsen would let it slip and that we would become suspects. The thought of how awful that would be for our children and grandchildren was unbearable. And given the situation, it seemed most likely to me that the poor young Leonard had killed his tyrannical father. I wanted to frighten him into a confession, but instead added to the burden of an innocent man in what were his final hours on earth. The world came crashing down around my ears when I heard that he too had been murdered.’
Mrs Wendelboe was so inconsolably distraught that it was impossible to be angry with her. I patted her on the shoulder and thanked her as kindly as I could for her explanation. She asked for permission to go and lie down and left the room with a bowed head. Her husband and I remained sitting and listened to her footsteps as she dragged herself up the stairs.
As he showed me out, Wendelboe thanked me in a quiet voice for my understanding.
‘As you have no doubt understood, my wife has been in a terrible state over the past few days. In a way, she has continued to circle round her dead brother for all these years. And recent events have just brought it all up again. She did not tell me that she had called until afterwards and I immediately said that I wished it was undone.’