The Catalyst Killing (K2 and Patricia series Book 3)

by Hans Olav Lahlum

  Her reaction was so unexpected that I almost jumped. Miriam Filtvedt Bentsen pointed at me across the table in a manner that was almost accusing.

  ‘Yes, in fact, I read it in a parish yearbook from Valdres when I was twelve. It’s an incredible story. But where did you hear it? And does it have any bearing on Falko’s disappearance?’

  I told her honestly that I had no idea yet. But I had heard the story now and thought that the similarity was remarkable, especially given that it had apparently happened in 1868.

  Miriam Filtvedt Bentsen nodded eagerly and pointed at me again, then leaned forward across the table.

  ‘The year is one thing, certainly, but if I remember correctly, it was in fact on the night of 5 August 1868 that Karl vanished into thin air on his way down the mountain in Valdres. I may be wrong – after all, it is ten years since I read the article. But I am pretty sure it was, and could easily find the book and check again as soon as the libraries open on Monday. And if I’m right about the date, then it really is a remarkable coincidence, isn’t it? How exciting!’

  I felt my pulse rising, but was not quite sure whether this was due to the incredible coincidence of dates or the sudden outburst of the otherwise so calm Miriam. So I asked her to check the date at the library on Monday, and to contact me as soon as she had. I told her I agreed that if she had indeed remembered the date correctly, it was a very interesting and exciting find. She nodded eagerly again, an unexpected glow in her eyes.

  So the mood in the car was very jolly once again for the last two hours as we headed into Oslo. I ventured to ask a bit more about the others who had been at the cabin. She took the hint and spoke only of them for the rest of the trip. However, there was not much new to be gleaned, compared with what she had told me before.

  Kristine Larsen was an only child. Both her parents were teachers at Hegdehaugen, but we quickly established that I had not been taught by either of them in my final years.

  Anders Pettersen was, in Miriam Filtvedt Bentsen’s words, ‘the prototype artist and communist. Quite possibly talented, but very definitely self-absorbed and ambitious.’

  In Miriam Filtvedt Bentsen’s opinion, Trond Ibsen was a far more gifted man, socially, even though he often pushed his psychological reasoning too far.

  She had seen Anders Pettersen as Falko’s loyal younger brother, whereas Trond Ibsen had a far more independent role. Anders Pettersen and Trond Ibsen generally shared the same political views, but there had been some rivalry between them since Falko’s disappearance, as they vied for the role of leader. There was a degree of jealousy on Anders’ part, as he could not compete with Trond when it came to family traditions and wealth. The legendary playwright, Henrik Ibsen, was a distant relative, and a number of well-known names from cultural and philosophical circles were in Trond’s immediate family, including, for example, the famous communist and historian Johannes Heftye, who was an uncle on his mother’s side.

  She threw me a questioning glance when she said this, and I said that it could well be an important link. It crossed my mind that it was rather odd that neither Trond Ibsen nor Johannes Heftye had said anything about this to me. And that it was a blessing that Miriam Filtvedt was so open with me, and showed no apparent sign of any kind of sympathy for either of the men in the group.

  When we drove past Grefsen, I said that I would quite possibly have to contact her again in the course of the investigation. It was fine by me if she wanted to tell her parents that she had been questioned by the police, but I asked her not to mention this trip or any of the details we had spoken about to anyone, not even those closest to her. I then waited with a pounding heart to see if she used the opportunity to mention a boyfriend – which, to my huge relief, she didn’t. She smiled, remarked that it was important keep one’s family life and private life separate, and assured me that she would keep everything that she had seen and heard today strictly to herself.

  When I dropped her off outside the party office, I said that her company had been refreshing in the midst of the murder investigation. She replied that it had been ‘extremely interesting’ to follow a murder investigation for a few hours. I would have preferred it had she said ‘extremely pleasant’, but was happy enough with that for the moment. Especially when she added with a little smile that I was welcome to contact her again should I have any more questions that she might possibly help me with. Then we waved happily to each other through the car window.

  My fascination with this calm and knowledgeable young lady was growing in the midst of this grisly business. As I drove back to what would no doubt be a far less engaging meeting with the powerful head of the police security service, I could unfortunately not think of any new questions to contact her about at the moment, but very much hoped that some would soon crop up.

  VII

  It was with a degree of awe, as well as some dread, that I knocked on the door to Asle Bryne’s office in Victoria Terrace at exactly six o’clock. I had never spoken to the revered head of police security before, but had heard his voice on the radio and seen his face in the papers. He had, whether it was justified or not, acquired a reputation for being alternately temperamental and uncommunicative.

  My first impression was that he was relatively calm. His jet-black eyebrows were even bushier than I had imagined, and his face was unexpectedly controlled for the moment. He nodded briskly at a chair in front of his desk and when I held out my hand, gave it a firm, equally brisk shake. He had a pipe in the corner of his mouth and his eyes followed my every movement as I sat down.

  I started by introducing myself and the case in brief. He nodded and replied curtly that he was of course familiar with it. I did not venture to ask him how. Instead I got straight to the point and asked if he could tell me about Marie Morgenstierne and the rest of the circle around Falko Reinhardt.

  The head of the police security service was, as expected, well prepared. His answer was brief: that they would of course be happy to help with the murder investigation, but that the security service had to follow strict procedures when it came to divulging information. Then he said nothing more.

  In answer to my initial question as to whether the police security service had the group under surveillance, he answered, ‘yes, of course.’ When I asked if this was the case both before and after Falko Reinhardt had disappeared, he replied, ‘yes, of course.’

  Bryne exhaled some smoke from his pipe following these two succinct replies and paused for thought. Then he added, with a bit more vigour: ‘The greatest threat to our country is still from the supporters of Moscow communism. The second greatest threat is probably the Peking communists. We would therefore clearly be neglecting our duty to our country and its people if we did not keep our eye on a group that was trying to worship both Moscow and Peking at the same time.’

  When I asked whether the police security service had at any point received information from members of the group, Asle Bryne replied brusquely that he could under no circumstances comment on that. He added that the security service was dependent on getting information from a range of different sources, and that it could have disastrous consequences if these sources were identified and at risk of being made public.

  I permitted myself to remind him that this was after all a murder inquiry and for the present would only involve one policeman and some confidential information.

  No more was needed for Asle Bryne’s temperament to make an appearance. He suddenly leaned forward in his chair and launched into a lengthy tirade about the security service’s responsibilities, the essence of which was that they were the country’s only hope in the fight against communist infiltration and Soviet occupation, and that they therefore needed room for manoeuvre without any interference from either politicians or the other police organs.

  I waited until he started to calm down. Then I asked if they had found anything to indicate that this small group of students had contacts abroad, or constituted a threat to the status quo in Norway. This unleashed anothe
r almost equally violent eruption behind the cloud of smoke. The fact that they did not always uncover something in the short term should not fool anyone into relaxing their focus on potentially violent terrorist groups. Furthermore, it was better that ten innocent groups were kept under surveillance than that they did not watch the one group that might prove to be a real threat to society.

  I took this as a ‘no’, and quickly carried on when he paused for breath a couple of minutes later. I told him that I fully understood that the security service could not reveal their contacts and that I could see why they had kept the group under surveillance – which could in fact be of great benefit to the investigation. I therefore would dearly like to know what the security service knew about Falko Reinhardt’s disappearance and the murder of Marie Morgenstierne.

  Asle Bryne took a couple of deep breaths, nodded – and made an attempt to answer my request. He assured me that as long as one respected the security service’s situation and work methods, they would of course be more than happy to do what they could to help solve any crimes that were under investigation by other police divisions.

  As far as the disappearance of Falko Reinhardt was concerned, however, the police security service knew nothing about it and had no information that might be of any help.

  Again, when it came to the murder of Marie Morgenstierne, no one from the police security service had been in the vicinity. They had, however, successfully bugged the group’s meeting place in Smestad, and could thus provide a recording of the last meeting that Marie Morgenstierne attended. The meeting had been short, and the security service had not picked up anything of interest from the recording. But if it could be of any help to the murder investigation, they would be able to lend it to the head of investigation for a day or two, in the strictest confidence, and on the condition that the tape was returned within forty-eight hours and that no reference was made to it in public.

  He then made a great show of taking the tape out of the desk drawer and placing it on the table between us.

  To humour him, I thanked him for his help and assured him that the conditions would be upheld. I then reached for the tape and pulled it over to my side. To my relief, he did not protest.

  I casually added that the investigation had brought me into contact with old Nazi circles, and I asked if the security service was familiar with them. Bryne peered out at me from under his great bushy eyebrows, obviously taken aback, and shook his head almost before he had heard the names.

  Another long tirade followed, about how he himself had fought against the Nazis during the war, and that ‘now it is the Cold War that is important, my young man, and not the Second World War.’

  These old Nazi circles only involved ‘a bunch of random, bitter’ individuals who hardly constituted a threat to anyone but themselves. The security service was of the definite opinion that the focus should now be on left-wing rather than right-wing extremists. In that sense, he added, both the government and the opposition were in agreement with the security service.

  I made a blunder just before I stood up, when I remarked briefly that there was perhaps no reason to believe that military intelligence might know any more. Asle Bryne leaned even further forward across the desk and boomed that there was absolutely no reason to believe that military intelligence might know more than the security service about anything. In fact, military intelligence with its incompetent management was perhaps the second greatest threat to the security of the Norwegian people after communism. It was incomprehensible that neither the government nor the Storting had taken the matter in hand and transferred all surveillance to the police security service.

  Asle Bryne was struggling to control himself, and I realized that a far more serious outburst was now imminent. I was genuinely concerned that he might have a heart attack in front of my very eyes. When he eventually stopped for breath again, I gave a disarming shrug and assured him that I was extremely happy with the help the police security service had given so far and did not really think that military intelligence would know any more about the matter. He sat in silence after this, and we then shook hands briefly before I left.

  I suspected that the security service knew more than they were willing to tell me. But I was curious to see what the recording from Marie Morgenstierne’s last meeting might reveal, and relieved to be able to take it with me when I left the room.

  VIII

  Patricia listened intently to my report of the Valdres trip and my meeting with the head of the police security service. When I finished by telling her about the tape, she nodded with cautious appreciation and pointed at the stereo player. I personally was very keen to know what might be on the tape, so quickly put it on.

  The recording lasted no more than half an hour. It was very odd to hear the late Marie Morgenstierne’s voice in amongst the other three now-familiar voices. In the short sequences where she spoke, her voice was quiet and soft, but firm and clear at the same time. It also sounded young and vital. I identified the various voices for Patricia the first time they spoke, then we listened to the rest of the tape in silence.

  Anders: Well, it’s time then to start our first meeting after the holidays. We will discuss our planned demonstration against the imperialistic war in Vietnam and other plans for the autumn. But first, do any of you comrades have any other points you would like to raise?

  Kristine: No other points. But we should perhaps start by marking the second anniversary of Falko’s puzzling disappearance, and renew our hope that he will soon come back.

  [Applause]

  Anders: Unanimously agreed. We hope and believe that our comrade has not fallen victim to some plot by imperialists, capitalists or class traitors, that he is alive, and that he will soon return to continue his work in the fight to liberate his country’s oppressed people. Does anyone have anything else to say on the matter?

  Trond: In cases like this it is often the person who is closest who is the first to notice a change. There are many examples, even among non-religious groups, where the person who was left behind felt something before the missing person returned. So it would be particularly interesting to know what you, comrade Marie, think about the situation?

  Marie: I still hope, but no longer know if I dare believe. Falko has been gone for so long now and there has been no sign of any change. So, like you, I can only hope that he will suddenly reappear one day and take up his role again in the class struggle.

  Anders: We all share that hope, and once again express our sympathy to you, as you have suffered the greatest loss in his absence. And now we must move on to discuss our planned demonstration and prepare our activities as best we can without Falko. To begin with, we need to plan our participation in the big anti-Vietnam rally on the last Saturday in August. I hope that everyone is able to take part?

  Kristine: Yes, of course.

  Trond: Yes, I have taken time off from work on Friday afternoon and Saturday morning.

  Marie: Yes, I’ll be there.

  Anders: Excellent. We will announce it through the normal channels and hope for strong support from the anti-Vietnam movement and others on the far left. It has not yet been decided whether to demonstrate outside the American Embassy, the Ministry of Foreign Affairs or the Storting. I personally think we should take imperialism by the horns and demonstrate outside the American Embassy.

  Trond: I agree with you in principle, but I think that psychologically the Storting is better. A mass mobilization there would put pressure on the politicians who are warming to the idea of demanding a change in the Vietnam policy. A good many Labour Party politicians are pushing in that direction and pressure on the government is mounting. No one in the American Embassy is up for election, and no one there is sympathetic to our calls.

  Kristine: I see advantages in both, but Falko always said that the American Embassy was the root of all evil in both the Ministry of Foreign Affairs and the Storting. So I think that the first demonstration after the second anniversary of his disappearance shou
ld be there. Marie: I support Anders.

  Trond: Then I accept. Should we send invitations to the Labour Party and SPP youth leagues, or just to the Vietnam Committee and other contacts left of SPP? Don’t get me wrong, I am sceptical of any flirtations with the Labour Party, and even more sceptical of any pandering to the SPP. But I do think we should send invitations to both as I think that would make the situation harder for them both, tactically.

  Anders: Well-meaning members of the Labour Party and SPP are welcome to join us, but we will not invite them. It’s important to show the Americans how strong the far-left radicals in Norway really are. Clear slogans and committed participation are more important than numbers here.

  Marie: I agree with that.

  Kristine: I also agree. Reminds me of what Falko used to say: that few can become many if they are just patient and stand united.

  Trond: Well, I will back down then. It is easy to compromise on the choice of method as long as the goal is fixed. And what about our other plans for the autumn? I have to look after my practice and my duty to my patients, who have all suffered in some way under the heavy yoke of capitalism. But I have a flexible timetable and will keep patient numbers at a level that allows time for meetings and agitation.

  Anders: I have cleared my timetable and work schedule for a very activist autumn. A few daytime lectures are obligatory, but I’ll get a sick note if the good cause so requires.

  Kristine: Same here, a few obligatory lectures that I can skip if necessary. But it would be good if I knew about important activities a few weeks in advance.

  Marie: Concurred. I don’t quite know what’s happening with my course this winter yet, but I have to get on with my masters. Whatever the case, it shouldn’t be a problem for the first part of the autumn, and I’ll be there for whatever we decide to take part in.

  Trond: Excellent. Then our conscience is still clear, in terms of both Falko and society’s repressed masses.