by K. O. Dahl
He closed his eyes as though searching for the right words. And pulled a face. The two policemen watched him in silence. Gunnarstranda blew a bubble which burst. Gerhardsen took it as a signal to go on.
'When she was offered treatment at Vinterhagen, Annabeth brought her home. I didn't recognize her, but I think it is highly probable that she recognized me. She absconded from the centre soon after meeting me that afternoon, you see. When Annabeth brought her home and I greeted her, she was a skinny little drug addict, a fragile wreck who had been helping Annabeth with the shopping. That same evening she ran away from the block she was in. They didn't find her…'
'And you interpreted this disappearance as a reaction to her recognizing you?'
'Yes.'
'When did you come to this conclusion?'
'Later, but I'll come to that.'
'Go on.'
'I was the one who found her. I was in town for a meeting and went down to Bankplass to find a prostitute. That was about three weeks later. I didn't know it was her until she got into the car. We had agreed a price through the window…'
'So you picked her up?'
'Yes… She sat next to me in the car without saying a word and I had no idea who she was. I drove across Bispekaia to find somewhere to park where we wouldn't be disturbed. At some point I glanced across and recognized her. She laughed out loud and enjoyed the shock I had. She also reminded me of our encounter at the massage parlour. There were a number of other things she said - I don't remember what - but the essence was that I was a bad person. I countered that I had never claimed to be any better than anyone else. I also said that I wouldn't be buying any sexual services off her after all. And I asked her if I should run her up to the rehab centre. Then she asked me if I had thought about what I would say as an explanation of how I came to find her. I said it would not be a problem; I would say I had bumped into her in town. She asked me if I was wondering what her version would be… to Annabeth. I stopped there and then, and said I had no'-more to say. She could leave and keep all the money she had been given. I also gave her a bit more. Then she sat in the car staring at me without saying anything.'
Gerhardsen paused again, as if he had reached a difficult point, then went on:
'I asked if I should drive her back to the city centre, but she said no and added that she didn't want to owe me anything. She repeated that twice. Used exactly the same words: I don't want to owe you anything at all! Then she performed oral sex and got out of the car.'
The silence hung between the walls.
Bjørn Gerhardsen cleared his throat after a long pause. He said, 'I ought to add that she turned up at the rehab centre a few days later and from that moment followed the full course until she was declared clean, had caught up on her schooling and was rehabilitated. From my knowledge of her over recent years she was resourceful and excellent in all ways.'
'Have you had sexual intercourse with her since?'
'Never.'
'How
Gunnarstranda interrupted Frølich by bursting another bubble and said: 'There's one thing I was wondering regarding the car ride.'
Gerhardsen raised his head.
'I visualize a number of shifts of mood here,' Gunnarstranda said. 'You drive round in the red light area, you pick up a prostitute who takes your fancy and then you have a shock when you recognize her. Following that there's a kind of discussion between you… a discussion that has overtones of… shall we say… morality. At that moment you become a representative of what we might call Norwegian respectability. At least you play the role of a representative of normality, the model that your wife also represents when she meets her patients Gunnarstranda formed inverted commas with his fingers.'… The normal world… whether you like it or not. So you and your wife become the model that patients have to imitate!'
'Of course,' Gerhardsen interrupted. 'But you don't need to moralize to me in this way!'
'I'm not moralizing,' Gunnarstranda stated. 'I was merely wondering what shifts of mood there were in the car. I'm trying to imagine the signals that you sent each other during the conversation you had. In other words, you were lustful, you wanted a quickie and you went about this by driving up to someone you regard as an anonymous whore in Bankplass. You agree a price through the open car window, she gets into your car, but you have a shock when you recognize her. You then have a sort of morally indignant discussion with her which ends up with you buying yourself a pardon by letting her keep the money without rendering any services. But in the end you experience the sexual climax you were in fact after as she, to your surprise, supplies a sexual service. Have I understood you correctly?'
'They're your words. It's not my version,' Gerhardsen answered in an aloof tone.
'But you agree that it can be described in that way?'
'I cannot refute it.'
'And two days afterwards she goes to your wife of her own accord and submits to long-term treatment of a social and medical nature?'
'Yes.'
'What was your experience of the relationship between you two in the car, from a psychological point of view?'
'What do you mean now?'
'Well, what roles did you play? Were you the dominant male buying a quick blow-job off a down-and-out junkie in need of money for a fix?'
'I've never thought about it like that.'
Gunnarstranda: 'Are you sure? Which of you had the upper hand, in a psychological sense, during the car ride?'
Gerhardsen: 'I've never thought about it like that, but I would guess that she did. I, for my part, was keen to get away.'
As the two policemen were silent, he continued. 'Or… maybe at the beginning… when I didn't know her, she was expecting me to recognize her. She must have recognized me when I stopped the car and rolled down the window. I assume she felt she had…' He coughed. It was his turn to use his fingers to express inverted commas: '… the upper hand psychologically, as you call it… because she had recognized me, I suppose. I can tell you with absolute assurance that I felt pretty small when I realized who she was…'
'But afterwards?'
'I don't understand what you mean.'
'You must do. She humiliates you by revealing that she knows who you are and thereby exposes your misery. What has the psychological balance between you been like since then?'
Gerhardsen closed his mouth and kept it closed.
Gunnarstranda beamed a white teeth smile. 'It's not dangerous to tell the truth, Gerhardsen. You've been very good so far. It's very understandable, very normal to want to take revenge for the little humiliation in the car.'
Gerhardsen, stiff: 'I have never taken revenge for anything.'
'Fine, but you did take your revenge,' the policeman smiled. 'You have made approaches, haven't you? We know that you even tried it on during the party.'
'I didn't try anything on during the party.'
'Our witnesses tell us something different!' Gunnarstranda snapped. 'Don't start lying to me. I know you made advances and suggestions to Katrine Bratterud during the party!'
'And so what if I did?'
'So what?' Gunnarstranda's smile was white again. 'If it happened that night, it could have happened before, couldn't it?'
'But it didn't happen before.'
'How can we know that? How can we know that she didn't feel she was being sexually harassed by you the whole time?'
'Talk to her therapists.'
'Your wife?'
'Yes, do that. I don't keep any secrets from her.'
'Do you mean to say your wife knew you had bought sexual favours from one of her patients?'
'Yes.'
'Excuse me,' said Gunnarstranda, exasperated, 'but you're the chairman of the Vinterhagen Rehabilitation Centre, aren't you?' He didn't wait for an answer, but ploughed on. 'Have you never had the concept of ethics on the agenda?'
Bjørn Gerhardsen, eyes closed: 'I have a vague feeling this conversation should not be about Vinterhagen's ethical foundations.'
&nb
sp; 'No, let's return to the night in question,' Gunnarstranda said in a calmer frame of mind. 'Quite a number of professionals would, however, frown on key drug-rehab staff inviting addicts to royal piss-ups.' He raised his voice as Gerhardsen tried to interrupt. 'But we can leave that for the time being. My problem is that I have to imagine what happened the night the girl was murdered. I have to find out exactly what happened that night.'
'Of course,' Gerhardsen said with indulgence. 'That's why I am sacrificing my valuable office time and trying to tell you what happened.'
'Did you meet Katrine Bratterud in Oslo city centre after getting out of the taxi?'
'Katrine? In the city centre?'
'Answer the question.'
'No, I didn't meet her.'
'Did you see her?'
'No.'
'Let us imagine what you have said now is not true,' Gunnarstranda said gently. 'Let's say you met her in Aker Brygge that night…'
'I certainly did not!'
'Let me finish,' snapped Gunnarstranda. 'We know that you tried it on with her at the party. We know you took a taxi to the City Hall square. We know you regarded her as another screw. That's your word. Let's imagine you followed her, repeated your advances, she resisted and you found some string to tie round her neck to make her more compliant…'
The policeman's eyes flashed white at Gerhardsen who was cowering in his chair.
'You're barking up the wrong tree,' he said at last.
'So tell me what happened!'
'I had a party at home. I was host to lots of nice people. I went to the centre to dance and have a good time…'
'Not to look for another screw?'
'No.'
'Can you prove what time you took the company's Daihatsu that night?'
Gerhardsen lowered his head to think. 'No, I don't believe I can. It's a normal garage in a basement you open with a key, and I have no idea if anyone saw me…'
'Can you prove what time you left Smuget?'
'I don't know. Someone must have seen me.'
'There was no one in your group who spoke to you before you left?'
'No.'
'But that's very strange, isn't it?'
'You might think that, but…'
'But what?'
'I don't think so.'
'Do you know if any of the guests at the party that night had a score to settle with Katrine?'
'I cannot imagine that.'
'What about your wife?'
'Annabeth? What would she have against Katrine?'
'She might be jealous,'
Gerhardsen angled his head. 'Yes… well… but not jealous in that way.'
'In which way was she jealous?'
Gerhardsen heaved a weary sigh. 'Listen,' he began, raising his palms as if in an attempt to calm troubled minds. 'Listen,' he repeated. 'I was forced to tell Annaheth about my relationship with Katrine. There was no alternative. When Katrine started treatment it was only a question of time before she said something about me to someone at the centre. I had to pre-empt her - not with everyone, of course - but with Annabeth. I couldn't walk in dread day in day out that
'When did you confess to your wife?'
'I don't remember.'
'A long time afterwards?'
'Well… a while. I told her when it was clear that Katrine was going to stay at Vinterhagen and had stopped doing bunks.'
'So it's a number of years since you told her?'
'Yes.'
'So your wife has treated Katrine for several years knowing that you paid for her services as a prostitute?'
'Yes.' Gerhardsen seemed tired.
The two policemen exchanged glances. Frølich cleared his throat and raised his eyebrows as a signal to his boss, who nodded in return. 'Do you think this affected the relationship between the two of them?' Frølich asked cautiously.
'Annabeth is very professional,' Gerhardsen answered. 'With patients she was professional, but this matter triggered a crisis in our marriage of course.' 'What sort of relationship did the two of them have? Was it warm?'
'No, but I don't think that had anything to do with me. A lot of water has passed under the bridge since I told her, you might say. The reason the relationship between Annabeth and Katrine was not warm was more to do with chemistry.'
'But you just said your confession triggered a marital crisis.'
'Yes, but that was between Annabeth and me.'
'Nevertheless it was Katrine who caused the crisis. It would be surprising if your wife did not take out her emotional response on her, wouldn't it?'
'It may sound strange but I don't think she bore a grudge against Katrine.'
'Are you on first-name terms with all the patients at Vinterhagen?' Frølich interjected.
'Heaven forfend, no.'
'Why Katrine?'
'She'd been there for quite a few years. She was a success. She was rehabilitated. That's quite an event of course.'
'But that doesn't make it natural for you to be on first-name terms with her.'
Gerhardsen sighed. 'She was a special patient for 'So you made advances during the years she was there.'
'No,' Gerhardsen said in desperation. 'But this girl had a position of trust. I read reports, I interviewed her…'
Gunnarstranda broke in:'… without your pasts as punter and prostitute colouring the situation?'
'Yes. How much more are you going to hassle me about this?'
'Until we find out something important we can use,' Gunnarstranda said, taking out his chewing gum, grimacing at it and flicking it into the wastepaper basket beside Gerhardsen's right leg. 'Could your wife have left the party that night?'
Gerhardsen stared at him in silence.
'Come on, answer the question.'
'For how long?'
'For an hour.'
'I doubt that very much.'
'Why do you doubt it?'
'Because she would have been missed by the guests at the party. Annabeth loves having this kind of get-together. She loves being at the centre of things and she was the one who sent out the invitations. Her leaving the house while there were still guests would have been inconceivable.' 'Were there any others who went missing for shorter periods?'
Gerhardsen deliberated. 'It's possible,' he said at length. 'But who…?' He shook his head. 'You'll have to ask Annabeth. As I said I wasn't there for a few hours.'
'Did anyone else at the party have a grudge against Katrine?'
'I don't know anyone who did.'
'But now you're contradicting yourself,' Gunnarstranda said with a smile.
'I certainly am not.'
'You claimed just now that Katrine had been arguing with her boyfriend.'
'But I don't suppose he would have killed her. My goodness, I can assure you, such a decent man
'What were they arguing about?'
'No idea.'
'So you didn't see an argument?'
'No, but… it was more that they weren't speaking. I could sense an atmosphere.'
'You said they were having a huge row.'
'I retracted that.'
'Has it occurred to you they may have been arguing because of you?' Gunnarstranda asked.
'Me?'
'You had just tried it on with her. Perhaps he was jealous?'
'He wouldn't have been able to hide that from me when we took the taxi to town. The atmosphere in the car was terrific.'
'He may have taken his anger out on Katrine,' Frølich said. 'Have you thought about that?'
Gerhardsen puffed out his cheeks and closed his eyes. His brow was sweaty. 'No,' he said, his eyes still closed. 'I didn't think about that. Is there going to be any more of this?'
Frølich sent an enquiring look to his boss who waved his hand in a deprecatory manner. 'Not for the time being,' Frølich said. 'But we will contact you to clear up some of the points in your statement.'
'Surprise, surprise,' Gerhardsen said, getting up.
The two policemen sat staring at th
e walls after Gerhardsen had gone. Gunnarstranda produced a box of matches and tried to make a toothpick from a match.
'Bl-oo-dy hell.'
'Yes, so much crap you need a spade,' Gunnarstranda replied, fiddling with his match-cum-toothpick. 'Geo- Invest, what's that?'
'Offshore,' Frølich said. 'Some oil guff to do with arbitration - it's the kind of job you need to have trained for to understand what it involves.'
'Have we got any interviews this evening?'
'Eidesen - the boyfriend.' Frølich flicked through the blank sheets of paper on his desk. 'What do you think?' he asked. 'Could it have been Gerhardsen - or his missus?'
Gunnarstranda shrugged. 'There's no doubt he must have been in real torment when she turned up at the centre for the second time.'
'Do you think he's lying?'
'Why should he lie? The whole prostitute business is very delicate, isn't it? He must have known or assumed our girl would have confided in someone and that in some way or other we would find out about his blunder. That's why he takes the plunge and admits everything here. It suggests he has nothing to hide as far as the murder is concerned.'
'But his wife?'
Gunnarstranda's face distorted - he seemed to be in great pain. 'Mmm,' he mumbled. 'But why wait for so many years?'
'Might have been the last straw that night. Kramer said Gerhardsen had been molesting Katrine B that night at the party. His wife might have noticed…'
'Yes, and then?'
'She sees it and loses her temper and… well… and so on.'
'Yes.' Gunnarstranda nodded. 'But Kramer claims he looked after Katrine until three in the morning. We'll have to check the arrangements with this car Gerhardsen took home. But it's an incredible coincidence that Henning and Katrine drive down to the same part of town where the gang of party-goers leaves the taxi. It seems quite extraordinary that none of them saw any of the others!'
'Henning and Katrine went to McDonald's in Aker Brygge. The others are on the other side of the City Hall square outside Smuget. They wouldn't necessarily have seen each other.'
'But if they did… ' Gunnarstranda said with a meaningful look. 'Gerhardsen and/or Ole Eidesen see Katrine in a clinch with Henning Kramer…'