Satellite People (29 page)

I sent him a stern look. He caught it and quickly carried on.

‘We never spoke about the matter again. We both knew what he was and neither of us wanted anyone else to know. So I know nothing about his boyfriends. But I do not imagine there were many.
I happened to drive past a restaurant last year and saw him sitting outside chatting to a well-known sportsman. It would not have been noticeable to many others, but there was a kind of intimacy
between them that made me guess that my brother had a lover. It also explained why he was in unusually good humour over the next few months.’

‘And how did you feel about it?’

He shrugged.

‘In terms of my own opportunities, I hoped that it would not get out, but I was happy for Leonard to get his pleasure with whoever he fancied as long as I did not need to witness
it.’

‘Did your father know?’

Again, there was silence for a while, and this time it was definitely more protracted. Fredrik Schelderup swallowed twice before answering. I registered with some glee a faint trembling in his
voice when he did.

‘I hope you appreciate my honesty and openness now. Yes, my father did know. He heard it from me some days after the episode last year that I just mentioned. I thought that it might be of
interest to him to know what his son got up to . . .’

Now I really did give him a very stern look indeed and could hear the indignation in my voice.

‘And the reason that you broke your promise to your brother was that you believed that it might be beneficial that your father knew this before he wrote his will?’

He looked down and nodded. When he spoke again, his voice was definitely shaking.

‘As I hope you understand, I am a greedy but honest good-for-nothing. Yes, I feared for my own position in terms of the will and reckoned that young Leonard would do well regardless. He
has always been so determined and conscientious. And I have never been either, so have to get by as best I can with what I was born with: family money and a degree of intelligence.’

I did my best to show restraint and asked Fredrick Schelderup when this might have been, and how his father reacted. He thought hard, his brow furrowed.

‘I cannot remember the exact date, but it was late in the autumn, around November–December possibly. Father was a man of exceptional self-control. All the same, it was obvious that
he was affected by the news and that he disliked it intensely. He said “thank you for the information”, and I cannot remember him saying anything like that since I came home from school
with an unexpected top mark for one of my exams some twenty years ago. I have no idea if he ever talked about it with Leonard, nor if it was one of his reasons for changing the will. I certainly
did far better in the second will than I did in the first, but fortunately that was also true of my brother.’

I noticed that Fredrik Schelderup was suddenly being very familiar with me, and I was not flattered by it, given the conversation.

‘So you broke your promise and let your brother’s greatest secret out of the bag, all to increase your own share of the inheritance. Not only that, you then went on to inherit
millions more when your brother was shot. I hope you understand that these developments in the case now make you a prime suspect.’

His temper flared up briefly and there was indignation in his voice.

‘I understand that you have to regard everyone as a suspect, and that inheriting vast sums of money when both your father and brother are murdered may give rise to some suspicion. But
other than a fatter bank account, there is no evidence that would point the finger at me more than any of the others in the case. There is absolutely nothing to link me directly to either of the
murders. And I have just demonstrated my honesty by telling you something that I am not proud of in any way and that shows me in a very bad light.’

I assured Fredrik Schelderup that he was only one of several suspects in the case and had not yet been given any official status. He immediately calmed down again and said that he was happy to
hear that. We parted without falling out, but also without shaking hands.

It was tempting to believe that he was a greedy but honest good-for-nothing. However, I was more certain of his greed than his honesty. A couple of times over the past day or two I had seen a
glimpse of a far less jovial Fredrik Schelderup, who seemed to make an appearance whenever his interests were threatened. Despite all other apparent differences, he suddenly reminded me of his Aunt
Magdalena. I could appreciate that living in the shadow of Magdalon Schelderup could not have been easy, even if in purely financial terms they had not a care in the world. But I still could not
bring myself to like either Fredrik or Magdalena – and I dared even less to trust them.

IX

There was no news of any importance waiting for me when I returned to my office around four. I still had more questions for the Wendelboes, but they were the only ones, and
after what had so far been a turbulent day, I desperately wanted to talk to Patricia before doing anything else. So in the end I called her and suggested that we had our daily meeting earlier than
usual at five, to which she agreed. In the meantime, I wrote a short report which I left in my boss’s pigeonhole on the way out.

My meeting with Patricia was shorter than usual, and we agreed to limit the refreshments to coffee and cake. I omitted to tell her about my visit to Maria Irene, and mentioned only briefly my
conversation with her mother at Schelderup Hall. On the other hand, I told her the day’s other news in great detail. Patricia nodded in appreciation.

‘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.’

I could not help but ask what he had thought the next morning, when he heard that Leonard Schelderup had been found dead. He gave a heavy sigh; things had obviously been difficult for him
too.

‘I have to admit that I was actually quite relieved when I heard that young Leonard had been murdered. My wife and I were not involved in any way and the desperately unfortunate phone call
was obviously of no relevance to his death. But the steps I had to take as I approached my wife’s bed that morning to tell her about his death felt like an interminable journey. As I entered
the room, I thought that the worst thing would be if Leonard had committed suicide and it later transpired that his father had been killed by someone else. I think my wife’s fragile mental
health would then have cracked and I would have had to watch over her day and night to ensure that she too did not take her own life.’