Satellite People - [17]

She smiled with relief, but it felt slightly forced.

‘I must say you really are very observant and quick, Detective Inspector. Yes, in the years just after the war, I once had a very odd experience with the manager, Hans Herlofsen, which I still can scarcely believe happened… I was passing my husband’s office when the door opened, but no one came out. Then I tripped over something on the floor. Which turned out to be Hans Herlofsen. He stood up immediately and apologized profusely, but offered me no explanation. He was so pale and so frightened, I would almost say terrified, that I only recognized him because of his suit. I could feel his entire body trembling when I put my hand on his shoulder. I carried on without saying anything, and never mentioned the episode to either my husband or Herlofsen. It all seemed so very unreal, and yet I am still certain that it did actually happen.’

My interest was of course piqued and I immediately asked when this had happened. She shrugged apologetically, but thought it must have been shortly before she was forced to leave the house in spring 1949.

I was not quite sure what to think, but noted down the story with interest. Ingrid Schelderup herself seemed quite upset by the memory, and repeated a couple of times that she was quite certain that it was as she remembered. She then calmed down again when we started to talk about the others who were present.

Magdalon Schelderup’s relationship with the Wendelboes seemed to be more balanced, and if there was a man he respected other than himself, it was Petter Johannes Wendelboe, she thought. But still she found herself wondering why the Wendelboes were such frequent visitors to the house, as they seldom said very much or made their presence known. But then there was hardly a relaxed social atmosphere at Magdalon Schelderup’s gatherings. Laughter and jokes were not encouraged among the younger members of the family, either, with Magadalon Schelderup at one end of the table and Petter Johannes Wendelboe at the other. She had never asked about any details from the war, but had always assumed that they had both seen and done difficult things. Neither of them became any less serious or authoritarian as they got older. But whereas Wendelboe appeared to be utterly unchanged, she had the impression that Magdalon’s moods had become even darker in recent years.

‘There were two Magdalons: the one who was all seriousness and work, and the one who was the world’s most charming man. Unfortunately, I have not seen the latter for many years now,’ Ingrid Schelderup added in a quiet voice. She had had no idea, however, that her former husband felt that he was now in danger.

When I asked her who she thought might have killed Magdalon Schelderup, she became grave and thoughtful.

‘If things are as you say with the secretary, well then there is an obvious motive for his current wife, in terms of both jealousy and money. But that is, of course, simply something I hope, not something I know. I can give you my word with regard to myself and my son. And as for the others, I suspect all and none of them.’

I was starting to realize that this would be a long and difficult investigation. But for the present, I had no more questions for Ingrid Schelderup. She also asked for permission to leave, and was granted this once she had given me a telephone number and a promise to stay in town.

XII

I had initially thought of calling in the Wendelboes separately. However, when he then came marching in with her in tow and seemed so determined, I did not dare protest.

Petter Johannes Wendelboe said that he was sixty-seven years old, and despite his white hair he was still a straight-backed and solid man with lithe, dynamic movements. Else Wendelboe was sixty-three, petite, and still a natural blonde. It struck me that she must have been extremely beautiful in her youth. I noted down that her maiden name was Wiig.

They said almost in one voice that they had been married since 1932, had three grown children and five grandchildren, and lived in a large house in Ski. Petter Johannes Wendelboe was a trained officer, but had changed career to become a businessman at an early age. He had held a number of different shareholder and board positions, but had now retired and left the business to his eldest son.

In terms of their relationship with the Schelderup family, he told me that it was the war that had brought Magdalon Schelderup and Petter Johannes Wendelboe together. They had continued to meet regularly through the years since the war, but were not necessarily what one might call close friends. In recent years, in fact, any contact had been entirely social and routine. Wendelboe had had shares in Schelderup’s company for a while, but had cashed them in without it leading to any conflict when the company had become firmly established in the mid-1950s, following an optimistic expansion.

The Wendelboes had been in Bergen visiting their daughter for the past few days, but had flown back today and driven out here in order to make the supper. They hesitated in response to my question as to whether the Schelderups were as keen to visit them, but then answered that they had had very few social gatherings at home with people other than the closest family in recent years. But when they did have parties, the Schelderups were of course invited, and as far as they could remember had always come. And so they felt that it was perfectly natural to visit an old war comrade whenever he had invited them.