Satellite People - [33]

I thought I caught a hint of triumph and irony in the lawyer’s eyes when he shook my hand. But it was fleeting and I saw no reason to further complicate the case by starting an argument with him. Formally, there was nothing to quibble about. I had only asked him about the content of the current will and he had answered correctly. Strictly speaking, it was my own forgetfulness that was to blame as I had not asked whether there were any previous wills and, in that case, what they said. And in any case, I now had the answer to my question only a matter of hours later. But I would have liked Rønning Junior more if he had taken the trouble to tell me earlier about the other will.

The sound of Mr Rønning’s voice and steps appeared to have woken the until now paralysed Synnøve Jensen to life. She lowered her hands from her face, put the business card in her pocket and left the room with a quiet apology for something or other.

Magdalena Schelderup and I sat and looked at each other for a minute or so. The only thing to break the silence was the outbreak of barking as first Rønning and then Synnøve Jensen passed the dogs – by which time I was on my feet and looking out of the window. Rønning jumped just as much this time as he had on his way in, whereas Synnøve Jensen was obviously used to the noise they made. She walked past them unperturbed, and then on down the driveway, alone in the world, but, it would appear from my bird’s-eye view, with courage.

‘And now what do you think?’ I asked Magdalena Schelderup.

A gentle smile crept over her wrinkled face when she replied.

‘Now I am thinking the same as you. In other words, how on earth does this all make sense and who on earth put the powdered nuts on my brother’s plate? And what is going to happen to those of us who are left?’

Then she stood as well. I wanted to ask her something, but could not think of a meaningful question. And to my irritation I realized that I still could not work out what it was about her that had changed since we last met. I was left with the feeling that the older Miss Schelderup was not only a wiser woman than she might at first seem, but that she also knew more than she was saying.

I had been sitting on my own in the room for a couple of minutes when there was a sharp knock on the door, and in came Sandra Schelderup. She had come to apologize for her earlier outburst, saying that the situation was obviously difficult and extremely emotional. She also wanted to ask if there was anything more she could do to help me.

I had a couple of questions about relevant details. I asked when the dogs had come the year before and who was responsible for tethering them. She replied promptly and without any fuss that her husband had bought the dogs in the middle of summer. She had known nothing about them until they stood barking at the steps. She, her husband and one trusted servant were the only ones who knew the dogs well enough to handle them. Everyone else, including Maria Irene, kept out of their way.

I soon understood that there was something she wanted to tell me, but had no idea what. So I eventually asked whether she had any new thoughts, in light of the day’s events. She beamed and replied that one thought had struck her with renewed force. Given that Magdalon’s son, Leonard, and his mistress both had so much to gain from his death, and that he pointed to his son shortly before he died… And that, as we knew, his mistress was pregnant, even though Magdalon had been convinced that he could no longer have children… Well, then perhaps it was not so unthinkable that maybe they were in a relationship and had conspired together?

She admitted that it was perhaps no more than wishful thinking on her part. But maybe it was worth looking into all the same.

I did not like Sandra Schelderup any the better for this, but had to admit that her theory was not something that could be ignored. But I disliked her a little less when she once again apologized for her display of temperament, before adding that she and her daughter would now leave the case in my safe hands. They were certain that I would manage to solve the apparently inexplicable murder mystery. Her husband had no doubt known what he was doing when he contacted me. He had followed the case regarding Harald Olesen’s murder day by day and had sung my praises at its conclusion. I must of course just call or drop in at any time should I have any more questions.

We finished the conversation by exchanging a few words about the continued police presence at Schelderup Hall. We quickly agreed that a police constable would remain on guard that night but would be allowed to leave the next day, unless anything unexpected happened that might give cause for concern. Sandra Scheldeup promised to call me straight away if she remembered anything that might be of importance and dutifully wrote down my telephone numbers in case she needed to get in touch quickly.

At ten past five, I slowly descended the stairs that led to the front door. My progression was slow, partly because the situation had given me a lot to think about, but mainly because I hoped that I might bump into Maria Irene.