Gunnarstranda turned. ‘Let’s take that from the beginning, shall we? You say that someone – thus a person other than your client – made their way into the vault, unlocked the safety-deposit box and took out the painting, but left the money, half a million, behind?’
‘Yes.’
‘Who?’
‘We don’t know who.’
‘But this person must have used a key. Your client had the key.’
‘There are two keys.’
‘How did your client obtain his key?’
Fristad and Frølich gave each other a knowing look.
Birgitte Bergum and Rognstad whispered to each other.
Bergum said: ‘That has nothing to do with the case.’
‘I have reason to believe you acquired the key by illegal means.’
Birgitte Bergum said: ‘We have no comment to make with reference to your assertion. However, we consider it appropriate to remind you that my client has full legal access to the box.’
Gunnarstranda addressed Rognstad directly now: ‘There are two sets of keys to the safety-deposit box. And there are four people with right of access: you, Jonny Faremo, Ilijaz Zupac and Vidar Ballo. Jonny Faremo is dead. Zupac is in Ullersmo prison. You’re sitting there and telling me someone else nicked this painting from the box. So you’re saying Vidar Ballo has been there and taken the picture. If he did, why did he leave half a million?’
‘That’s irrelevant,’ Bergum interposed.
‘Irrelevant?’ Gunnarstranda started to grin. ‘Is it irrelevant that a notorious criminal walks legitimately into a bank vault and removes a painting, but leaves half a million untouched?’
‘Naturally.’
‘Why naturally?’
‘The individual in question could well go back and collect the money later, couldn’t he? The fact is, Gunnarstranda, that there was a work of art in the box and now it has disappeared.’
‘And the man on the moon eats cheese every day,’ Gunnarstranda snapped. He turned and walked back to the table.
Bergum sent him a deprecating smile. She had begun to develop a new interest in the mirror and when she spoke she addressed the glass pane: ‘We’re talking about one of the world’s most wanted works of art, Gunnarstranda. Go back to your office and look up the records of “Unsolved Cases” and check for stolen works of art. I’m sure you will find Giovanni Bellini’s painting mentioned, the great master of Italian Renaissance painting. The painting was stolen from the church of Santa Maria dell‘Orto in Venice in 1993. Imagine what solving a case like that would mean for you and Police HQ. After that, you and I plus the police prosecutor can discuss the definition of mitigating circumstances,’ she said, getting up and turning towards the glass. She stood still, adjusting her bra. Then she added in a chill tone: ‘Isn’t that right, Fristad?’
Two hours later Gunnarstranda and Fristad were alone. The latter scratching his neck in irritation. ‘Bellini, who the hell is Bellini? As far as I’m concerned, she might just as well have been talking about mountain walking in north Norway.’
‘The Bellinis were a dynasty apparently,’ Gunnarstranda said.
‘How do you know that?’
Gunnarstranda turned to show him the encyclopaedia he had found on his bookshelf and said: ‘It says here there was one father and two sons. Renaissance painters at the end of the fifteenth century. There was also one equally famous brother-in-law, Andrea Mantegna.’ He flicked over the page and read on: ‘The Bellini brothers: Gentile and Giovanni.’
He cleared his throat: ‘Giovanni Bellini had enormous influence on Giorgione and Titian, who were both pupils of his, and towards the end of his life Bellini was himself able to learn from them… erm… erm… there are two motifs which dominate his altar paintings. In one there is a beautiful young Madonna with a child in front of a fixed tableau, often giving onto evocative background scenery. Giovanni Bellini’s pictures hang in all the great galleries of the world. There are pictures hanging in several churches in Venice…’ Gunnarstranda peered over the rim of his glasses. ‘Look here. I’ve seen that one.’ He showed Fristad a picture, a portrait of a pale man wearing a hat. With his glasses perched on the end of his nose, Gunnarstranda adjusted his reading distance. ‘That’s what I thought – the National Gallery in London. There’s nothing in this book about a robbery at any rate, but on the other hand this encyclopaedia was published well before 1993.’ He examined the year of publication before putting it back on the shelf. ‘Nineteen seventy-eight to be precise. Perhaps you could put in a good word for us so we get these reference books updated.’
‘No one updates reference books nowadays. They use the Internet, but perhaps you don’t know what that is…’
At that moment Lena Stigersand poked her head in. She said: ‘Just checked a couple of details about Rognstad’s story. In fact, a painting by Giovanni Bellini showing a Madonna with baby Jesus was stolen from the church of Santa Maria dell’Orto in Venice in 1993. Pretty stupid business. The church was being restored. Someone strolled in under the tarpaulin, put the picture in their bag and walked off.’
‘So the picture is small,’ Gunnarstranda said.
Stigersand nodded. ‘It has never reappeared and must be very valuable. Of course, pictures like these are almost never sold on. A similar picture of Madonna with the child Jesus, signed by Bellini, was sold in 1996 for £826, 500 at an auction in London.’
‘How much is that in Norwegian kroner?’ Fristad asked.
‘About ten million.’
‘Thanks,’ Gunnarstranda said.
Stigersand left, closing the door behind her.
‘We really modern types use the young ones to check modern stuff on the Internet,’ Gunnarstranda said and added: ‘If a picture like that went for ten million in ninety-six, it must be worth a lot more today. Prices for art shoot through the roof. Worse than flats in Oslo.’
‘But do you believe that?’ Fristad broke in. ‘Is it likely that the picture was lying in a deposit box in Askim for years? It’s rather far-fetched.’
‘If Rognstad’s pulling the wool over our eyes, then it’s a pretty good story,’ Gunnarstranda retorted. ‘So there has to be proof to underpin it. Rognstad would never have gone in for a plea bargain if he didn’t have proof. After all, he wants his sentence commuted. He’s got an ace up his sleeve. Now it wouldn’t be much of an ace if he didn’t know where the picture came from, would it. I would bet the picture was with the money in Narvesen’s safe. The question of where the painting came from in order to end up in the deposit box is the only ace Jim Rognstad has. But he’s waiting before he plays it.’
‘If that’s the case, how did Narvesen get hold of this picture?’
‘Haven’t the foggiest. Not particularly bothered either. What is important is the sequence of events. The men we’re trying to nail break into Narvesen’s place in the autumn of 1998 and steal a safe. The painting and the money are in the safe. The neighbour’s wife only sees Ilijaz Zupac and points him out in the police photo files. Had she not done that, I presume the safe would never have been reported stolen – since there was such a famous item in it. The fact that the safe contained an item of such value would explain why it was the only thing that was stolen. Zupac is arrested. During the arrest Zupac fires a shot, one man dies and Ilijaz is charged with murder and sentenced. The safe is never found. In all probability his accomplices open the safe and the contents are deposited in the bank. One look at the names of the signatories and it is obvious that Ilijaz’s conspirators were the Faremo gang: Jim Rognstad, Vidar Ballo and Jonny Faremo himself. These three recently broke into the container at Loenga in Oslo…’
‘There were four of them, weren’t there?’ Fristad interrupted.
‘We have a witness who says so, but let’s stick to what we know. The three of them are arrested after a tip-off from Merethe Sandmo, right. All three get off, thanks to Elisabeth Faremo’s testimony. Her statement is disputed by Frank Frølich who is willing to swear she was in his double bed after one o‘clock in the morning. However, since he was asleep when she went home, theoretically she might have been telling the truth. She might have waited until he was asleep before going home and organizing the game of poker with her brother and his two pals.’