Satellite People - [21]

It was impossible for me not to tell her the truth – that Synnøve Jensen was in fact pregnant.

This time the reaction was dramatic. Sandra Schelderup leapt out of her chair, hit the table with balled hands and shouted: ‘Impossible. It can’t be his child!’

When I asked whether it had been medically proven that Magdalon Schelderup could no longer have children, she shook her head sheepishly, then suddenly blushed deeply.

It struck me that I already appeared to be tainted by the ruthless atmosphere at Schelderup Hall. I realized that this was a great blow to Sandra Schelderup both as a woman and a wife, but could not feel any real sympathy for her.

‘That too,’ she said, sitting down with a heavy sigh. ‘And unborn children have the same inheritance rights as other children, don’t they?’ she added, quickly.

I confirmed this, but said that it could often be difficult to prove in such cases.

‘And obviously that will be true here – unless he has left behind some kind of written acknowledgement that he is the father?’

I nodded.

‘So Magdalon’s will is even more important than ever – both for your investigation and for my life.’

I agreed with her and repeated that it was my hope that we would be informed of the contents of the will within the next day or so. As if by unspoken arrangement, we both stood up at the same time.

Sandra Schelderup commented from the doorway that I had no doubt already heard unfavourable things about her from the others. She asked me to bear in mind that there are always two sides to a story and that she had had her struggles too. She was a country girl who had had to work her way up from simple beginnings when she was young. It had not been easy to be married to Magdalon for eighteen years, nor had it been easy to be accepted as his third wife.

I found this to be entirely credible, but let the door close firmly behind her all the same before I made ready to leave.

XIV

The air felt clearer and sweeter when I finally managed to get away from Schelderup Hall and the irascible dogs. But the situation remained very unclear for all that. The next question was whether my first phone call should be to Patricia or to the lawyers, Rønning, Rønning & Rønning.

When I finally got home at around nine o’clock, I followed my instincts and called Patricia first. She answered the telephone on the second ring. To my great relief, her voice sounded exactly as it had one a year ago. And she seemed to brighten up when she heard that it was me and that I was calling about a new murder investigation. For the next half hour, she listened without saying a word while I outlined my initial impression of the case.

‘And your conclusion?’ I asked, optimistically.

‘That I still do not know who murdered Magdalon Schelderup. There are far too many alternatives and theories that may prove to be true. But I would be more than happy to help you find out. We managed very well with seven potential murderers in the same building last year, so we will just have to see if we can extend our repertoire to include ten possible murderers in a mansion this year.’

I was very happy to hear Patricia sounding so optimistic and enthusiastic, and she hurried on.

‘There are several strange and significant things that I would like to discuss with you tomorrow. But you have no doubt already given some consideration to what is currently the strangest and most significant point. Have you discovered any explanation as to why on earth Magdalon Schelderup could be so certain that there was no risk of an attempt on his life before Tuesday? After all, Tuesday afternoon is very specific…’

I said that I had given it some thought, but had not found any good explanation. The latter being more true than the former.

Patricia’s voice sounded even more amused; I could almost see her smile down the telephone wire.

‘There are several possible explanations. Now, what happens with remarkable predictability at some point late on Tuesday mornings that might be of considerable significance here? Hint: every day, with the exception of Sundays and holidays…’

I racked my brain, but following a longer pause for thought, declared that I was unable to solve the mystery – despite her hint. Patricia’s first triumph was audible, even on the phone.

‘And the correct answer is: the first delivery of post sent on Monday is on Tuesday morning. Let us imagine that Magdalon Schelderup was holding back an important announcement about his will or the future of the business, for example, and therefore did not need to fear for his life until he had let those concerned know. If he then posted this to those concerned on Monday, he need not anticipate an attack until Tuesday afternoon at the earliest. Which does not sound entirely unfeasible, especially if we imagine that this was something about his will that he had planned to announce to the guests at dinner on Sunday, but that he was waiting to post until Monday, in anticipation of his meeting with you. The primary question would then be what he was going to write. The next question would be who he was going to send it to. The third question would be whether he had already written the letter, and the fourth question would then be where has he stowed it. Are you following so far?’