The Catalyst Killing - [36]

My eyes were trained on her in anticipation.

‘… On the other hand, it is something of a mystery why he has remained under cover for so long, and, it would seem, kept his parents in the dark. I see no other explanation than that he expected something major and dramatic to happen.’

My focus sharpened.

‘But if your theory is right, and Falko is once again out there on the streets of Oslo somewhere…’

Patricia nodded gravely and finished my sentence.

‘… then we can expect a large explosion of one sort or another soon. And if that is the case, we have no idea where or when things will explode.’

Patricia appeared to be deeply uneasy about the situation.

She twitched nervously in her wheelchair while the maid cleared the dinner plates and served ice cream for dessert. In the meantime, I was able to consider the situation in more detail.

‘And in that case, it may in some way be connected to the death of Marie Morgenstierne. But whatever the case, we have not come any closer to solving the murder today, have we?’

Patricia responded with a sullen shake of the head. She showed no interest in eating her ice cream.

‘No, you could hardly say that. It is both striking and rather unnerving that none of the witnesses who were walking behind her have come forward. I have at least six possible explanations in my head, but lack the information either to confirm or reject any of them. We will just have to wait and see what you get out of the security service tomorrow, and what your trip to Valdres might bring.’

I took the hint and stood up.

‘You are of course welcome to come for supper tomorrow evening. But if you take Miriam Filtvedt Bentsen with you to Valdres, remember to drop her off well before you come here.’

I smiled and assured her that I would remember to do that. Patricia’s mouth smiled back, but not her eyes.

I quickly thanked her for the evening. It had given us both a lot to think about. The ice cream was left half-eaten in my bowl, and untouched in hers.

XI

From time to time it still worried me that the professor and company director Ragnar Sverre Borchmann might feel some resentment towards me as a result of the stress and danger that my first murder investigation had entailed for his daughter. It was also possible that he might have heard about my late and hasty retreat at the end of my second murder case, and hold that against me too.

On my way out I therefore remarked to the maid, Beate, that I had not had the pleasure of meeting the man himself this time. I had noticed that the maid simply called him ‘the director’. It was no doubt a far grander title to her ear than professor.

She promptly told me that the director was away, and for ‘business reasons and the like’ it was all very hush-hush where he was, and why he was there.

I gave a complicit nod when she said this. Borchmann’s business empire was so extensive that he could be away on all sorts of business in any number of places both within the country and abroad, and I had more than enough to think about already without speculating on his whereabouts.

I therefore said that I wished the director and his business well, wherever he was in the world and whatever he was doing. Beate replied that they all did, and that he was after all not so very far away. The director telephoned his daughter every evening and had said how glad he was to hear that I had come by.

I heaved a sigh of relief, thanked her and asked her to pass on my best wishes should she have the opportunity. She assured me that she would do her best.

XII

It was eight o’clock in the evening by the time I got home to my flat in Hegdehaugen. I would never have guessed that I would one day call the SPP party office from my own home. But I did it now with pleasure and excitement.

The telephone in the party office was answered after four rings and to my relief it was Miriam Filtvedt Bentsen herself who answered. After the solemn atmosphere at the end of my visit to Patricia, it was a delight to hear such a happy voice – particularly as it sounded even happier when she heard it was me, and that I was calling about the murder investigation.

She asked if the fact that I was calling meant that there had been new developments in the investigation. I replied that there had been some progress, but that regrettably I could not tell her anything more right now. But I added that I needed a guide for a trip to Valdres in the morning, and that perhaps I could tell her a little more then, if she was willing to volunteer to come with me.

There was silence at the other end of the line for a moment. A breathless silence.

I hastily said that she could of course take a book or two with her, and there would undoubtedly be time to read on the journey. And that it could be of considerable importance to the investigation.

She answered slowly that a murder investigation sounded interesting, and that Valdres was a beautiful place that she knew well. She should be able to take the day off from her studies, given that it was a Saturday and that she still had three months to get through the reading list for her only exam that autumn. As far as the party office was concerned, it might not be so easy, as there were more papers to be sorted than usual.