The Catalyst Killing - [23]

‘Someone she knew, in other words?’ I ventured.

Patricia shrugged disarmingly and shook her head at the same time.

‘It would certainly seem that it was someone she knew, but not just that. Most of us know one or two people we would rather not meet, but very few of us would suddenly flee in panic at sight of them in a public place. Marie Morgenstierne apparently saw someone she knew, and for one reason or another she immediately knew that he or she was carrying a gun that could be aimed at her at any moment. Who and what was it that Marie Morgenstierne saw yesterday evening? That is now the most pressing question. And it undeniably makes the fact that three of the four people we know were on the street have not come forward in response to the repeated call for witnesses on the radio and television even harder to fathom. Goodness knows what their reasons are. One would think…’

Patricia stopped mid-sentence and sat deep in thought for a while. She opened her mouth for a moment, then shut it firmly. I had learned during our last investigation that Patricia hated to make mistakes, and would therefore often keep her arguments to herself until she was absolutely certain they were watertight. So I tried to prompt her by asking a question and airing my own views.

‘Surely the shout indicates that at least one person on the street knew who she was?’

Patricia nodded.

‘Clearly at least one of them knew who she was, and I suspect others did too. The shout is a mystery in itself, which the blind witness alone cannot help to explain. She heard the shout and Marie breaking into a run almost simultaneously. Was the shout prompted by the fact that Marie suddenly started to run? Or did Marie start to run because she heard the shout? Or did something else happen that only two people on the street understood the significance of, making Marie break into a run and the other person shout her name?’

I ventured to comment that Kristine Larsen was a woman, had been in the vicinity, and knew Marie Morgenstierne. Patricia looked at me sharply.

‘That is certainly a possibility to be considered, and I can assure you that I have. But first of all, the blind lady is not entirely sure that the person who shouted was a woman. And secondly, there are many other women in the world who might equally have shouted to Marie. Did you for example ask whether Miriam Filtvedt Bentsen had an alibi for last night?’

I had to admit that I had forgotten to do so. I told myself that I had no reason to believe she had been at the scene of the crime, and what it is more, found it hard to believe that she had anything to do with the murder. But I was wise enough not to mention this to Patricia. Instead, I promised that I would ask her tomorrow.

‘Please do,’ Patricia said, without any apparent enthusiasm. Then she suddenly continued, ‘And ask her two more questions at the same time. One: was the window in the room where Falko Reinhardt and Marie Morgenstierne were sleeping big enough for Falko to have climbed out? Two: ask if she is absolutely sure that she fell asleep that night, and whether she can confirm Kristine Larsen’s statement that she did not hear Falko out in the hall from the time they went to bed until they discovered he was missing?’

I looked at Patricia in surprise and with something akin to disapproval.

‘Miriam Filtvedt Bentsen said clearly enough that she went to sleep around midnight, and Kristine Larsen, who had a headache, saw her lying there asleep. So surely there is no great mystery there?’

There was a pause while the maid came in to clear the plates after the main course and give us each a dessert plate of ice cream and cake. Even in this new age, Patricia was upper-class enough not to say anything while the servants were in the room. However, she drummed her fingers impatiently on the table to ensure it did not take too long, then eagerly continued her reasoning as soon as the maid had closed the door.

‘The boundary that defines sleep is blurred, to say the least. And saying that you have gone to bed is even vaguer. There is, however, a considerable difference between lying in bed with your eyes closed and being asleep, in that you are no longer aware of sounds and movements in the room. I am neither a clairvoyant nor paranoid, but while I am in no doubt that Miriam Filtvedt Bentsen had put down her book and closed her eyes two hours earlier, I do not think she was fast asleep at the point when it was discovered that Falko Reinhardt had disappeared. Nor, for that matter, do I believe that Kristine Larsen was lying awake because of a headache. She seems to have coped very well in the hours after it was discovered, despite the claimed headache and lack of sleep. And leaving the door open to ease a headache is a new one on me, as it increases the risk of noise. Ask Miriam if Kristine had wanted to keep the door ajar on previous nights at the cabin as well, and whether she had noticed any obvious signs of this supposed headache.’

I could not understand what she was driving at, but carefully noted down the questions on a piece of paper. Experience from earlier investigations had shown that Patricia’s apparently bizarre questions and whims could prove to be enormously important.