I got up as soon as the maid came in, but Patricia immediately put up a hand to stop me. Once again, her face went through a rapid change of mood. She stubbed out her cigarette in disgust, thrust the rest of the packet deep into a pocket and suddenly flashed me one of her more mischievous smiles. She whispered something to Benedikte, who gave a quick nod and immediately left the room.
‘Please be seated for a moment or two more. I still have an amusing little theory that I want to test out with some help from Benedikte, before I can say that I am finished with the case.’
We waited in anticipation for a couple of minutes. Though I wracked my brains, I could find no explanation as to what this might be. Benedikte returned, as solitary as when she left, and whispered a short message in Patricia’s ear. The reaction was both explosive and unexpected. Patricia’s fit of laughter lasted for almost a minute.
‘What is it that is so funny?’ I eventually asked – no doubt with some irritation in my voice.
Patricia had to dry her eyes on a napkin before she could answer.
‘Just that I have had my theory confirmed that people, when you get to know them a little, are in fact a very predictable race,’ she replied, with a cheerful smile.
I suddenly got that uncomfortable feeling you always get when you realize that someone is laughing at you without yourself knowing why. I stood up again to leave. This time Patricia did not try to stop me. She just gave an apologetic shrug – and carried on laughing. As Benedikte opened the door to show me out, there was a final piece of advice from the wheelchair.
‘By the way, my last piece of advice to you for now as you go back out into the real world… Remember, if you want to play in the kitchen, you have to put up with the heat!’
It sounded like a pubescent or childish twist on the well-known saying, the sort of thing that one has to be either five or fifteen to come up with. I was slightly worried that the drama of yesterday really had knocked Patricia’s mental balance off-kilter. Unless she was even more complex than I had understood so far. Whatever the case, I thought it better simply to grin and bear it, and gave her a friendly wave and smile as I disappeared out through the door. Patricia’s laughter was fortunately cut short when the door closed behind me.
IV
I managed to follow Benedikte quietly and obediently down one and a half flights of stairs on my way out. But then I could not stop myself from asking what her mysterious message had been that had made Patricia laugh so much. It was the first time that I saw the otherwise serious Benedikte smile – and the first time I heard her voice. And it was just as I had imagined it: simple and easy to understand.
‘Miss said that you would ask me on the way out and I was to tell you the truth, that I had looked out of the window to check and that you would understand soon enough. Miss has a sharp tongue now and then, but it is her mind that is sharpest, you see. She can even predict the future sometimes.’
I nodded pensively, but still had no idea what this was all about and so asked cheerfully how soon I would know what it was that I would know. The loyal Benedikte replied, with a very gentle smile, that it would be no bother.
I did not understand until I was standing outside the White House and looked down Erling Skjalgsson’s Street. But then I understood very quickly – and could agree that it did not bother me in the slightest. I could very happily live with the situation out in the real world.
The sun was shining, and the sky was blue, and it was an unusually delightful spring day. And by my car, an unusually beautiful young woman was waiting impatiently for me to come. Two long, slim legs, dressed in tight jeans that emphasized her lovely curves, stamping impatiently on the pavement to keep warm.
She nodded and gave me the most irresistible smile when I came up to the car. I smiled back, got in behind the wheel and indicated that she should get in beside me. Then we drove off together – as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
Fortunately, it was only several decades later, when the great Miss Patricia Louise I. E. Borchmann was no longer with us, that I heard about a comment she made later that day, on Sunday, 14 April 1968. She chuckled and commented to the twin sisters, Benedikte and Beate: ‘Detective Inspector Kristiansen undoubtedly has many good qualities, but I am still not certain that intelligence is one of them.’
Afterword
When working on this historical crime novel, I have used my background and experience as a historian, and have tried as far as possible to be true to context in terms of events both in 1968 and the Second World War. But it is nonetheless the literary author Hans Olav Lahlum, and not the better-known historian of the same name, who wrote this novel. And I too have taken the artistic liberty that authors so often use. The place names and streets names used in the novel are authentic, but most of the actual buildings are a product of my imagination. Thus the particularly keen reader will be able to find both Krebs’ Street and Erling Skjalgsson’s Street, but not the house numbers or buildings that are described in this novel. Similarly, it is not possible to find a police station in Sälen with the same topographical surroundings or architecture as that described in Chapter Nine.
A couple of the minor characters were directly inspired by historical figures. All the main characters, on the other hand, including the murder victim Harald Olesen, are entirely the product of the author’s imagination and are not based on any historical figure from either 1968 or the Second World War. And for those few minor characters inspired by historical figures, it must be emphasized that the literary depiction is not based on any historical involvement with a criminal investigation.
The Feldmann case, which is mentioned briefly, was a widely discussed court case from 1946 to 1947 in which two former border guides were acquitted of the murder of a Jewish couple during the war on the grounds of self-defence. This has been used as historical background in the novel, but has no direct parallel with the plot or any of the characters. However, several of the characters were inspired fully or in part by people I know today – including myself.
The head of fiction at Cappelen Damm, Anne Fløtaker, has been my most important adviser in terms of both the content and writing of this novel. I have also received useful feedback from the publisher, Anders Heger, and editor, Marius Wulfsberg. I would also like to give two thousand thanks to a group of personal advisers who read all or parts of the manuscript and gave me constructive comments about the content and/or language. This includes my sister, Ida Lahlum, and my good friends Ingrid Baukhol, Mina Finstad Berg, Ingrid Busterud, Anne Lise Fredlund, Kathrine Næss Hald, Hilde Harbo, Kristin Hatledal, Bjarte Leer-Salvesen, Torstein Lerhol, Espen Lie, Ellisiv Reppen, Jane Iren Solbrekken-Nygård, Karen Thue, Arne Tjølsen and Katrine Tjølsen. Ellisiv and also Mina both deserve a special mention for their continued interest in this project and for their practical help in connection with the final rounds of proofing and editing the manuscript.
Only time will tell whether my first crime novel will also be my last or if it will be the start of a historical crime series. However, I can only hope that The Human Flies will be as exciting for some readers as it has been for the author. Readers who have any comments or questions for the author can quite simply email them to hansolahlum@gmail.com or post them on the book’s Facebook page.
Gjøvik, 27 June 2010
Hans Olav Lahlum
About My Late Aunt, Dagmar Lahlum – and My Novel, The Human Flies