Satellite People

by Hans Olav Lahlum

  Jonas Lykke became obviously more animated and informative when the subject turned to the Conservative parliamentary group after the war. In fact, I thought to myself that he was remarkably informal given that he was still a senior politician. He remarked with a quiet, dry chuckle that Magdalon Schelderup had come across as ‘unusually intelligent, unusually clear-sighted, unusually conservative and unusually cynical, even for a Conservative member of parliament for Akershus or Oslo!’

  I ventured to ask why, then, Schelderup’s career in national politics had been so short-lived. Lykke answered with another gentle smile that that problem had in fact been Magdalon Schelderup’s clear-sightedness. He quite obviously preferred to be in a position of power and was realistic enough to admit that it would be many years before the Conservatives would ever form a government. When he stood down in 1953 he was fifty-four years old and had decided to concentrate on his extremely successful business empire.

  It had become standard practice that the war was not mentioned unnecessarily when Magdalon Schelderup was present. But the court case from 1945 had been mentioned now and again when he was not there. Lykke added with a dry laugh that the Conservatives had a habit of dealing with sensitive issues in this way. However, he did not remember the issue from the war being raised in connection with the question of Schelderup’s renomination in 1953. Lykke had certainly never mentioned it himself at that time.

  Continuing in this jolly and frank vein, the foreign minister added that he had not been sorry when Schelderup decided not to stand again in the general election.

  ‘We needed a right-wing coalition, and he was not someone who promoted that. He was far too conservative for those on the left, and too urban for members of the Centre Party. And the Christian Democrats strongly disapproved his divorces.’

  I understood what he was saying and had to reluctantly concur with Jonas Lyke that there was not much of relevance to the murder inquiry here either. As a politician, Magdalon Schelderup had been respected, but not liked, not even within his own party. He appeared to have left politics of his own volition, and if it was the case that he was pushed, it certainly seemed to have nothing to do with events during the war. I did not think that Jonas Lykke knew anything more of importance about the war, and was fairly sure that if he did, I would not be able to wheedle it from him.

  So I thanked the foreign minister cordially for his time. He shook my hand and jokingly wished me luck with ‘both the spring murder investigation and the autumn election’.

  The final seat in Oslo was evidently very uncertain and could be decisive, according to the sheet on the top of the left-hand pile that I glanced at as I left the room. Jonas Lykke had already turned his attention back to the papers by the time I closed the door behind me.

  XI

  The yellowing papers from the war were waiting on my desk when I got back to the office.

  According to these papers, the NS member whose house Magdalon Schelderup and Ole Kristian Wiig had visited on Liberation Day 1945 was called Jens Rune Meier.

  I quickly found the case in the archive for unsolved murders under 1942, and could thus confirm that Wendelboe had thus far proved to be reliable. Jens Rune Meier had indeed been shot when out skiing at the start of Easter 1942. The operation had obviously been well planned. The police found the tracks of the perpetrators, who had clearly been familiar with his route and lain in wait behind some undergrowth on a more deserted stretch. The ski tracks led back to the car park, and even though considerable resources were given to the case, not enough evidence was found to pursue it.

  At the time of his death, Jens Rune Meier was unmarried. He was a thirty-two-year-old lawyer who lived in Kolsås; a Norwegian citizen from a good middle-class family, but his grandfather had been from Germany, so he had a German surname. It would appear that the occupying forces and the NS had had high hopes for him and, if rumour was to be believed, he was being touted as a possible cabinet minister in Quisling’s government.

  Jens Rune Meier glared at me from a black-and-white passport photograph dated autumn 1941, and from a report about the attack in the NS newspaper, Fritt Folk. I sat there for a couple of minutes looking him in the eye without finding the answer as to whether he had been the Dark Prince or not. Following liberation in 1945, no guns were found that in any way resembled the missing 9×19mm calibre Walther pistol. I sat there a little longer musing on where it might be today, as I wrote the short daily report for my boss. The report was not the best I had written, in terms either of language or content. My thoughts were preoccupied with what Patricia might be able to deduce from the new information about the case. In the end, I put the report to one side and drove over to see her a quarter of an hour earlier than agreed.

  XII

  Patricia listened while we ate the starter and I told her in detail about how Leonard Schelderup was found and the circumstances surrounding his death. She uttered a disapproving ‘hmmh’ several times. And this was clearly not with reference to the delicious vegetable soup.

  But she really only got into her stride shortly after the main course had been put on the table and I finally told her about my visit to Petter Johannes Wendelboe. She then became so intensely interested that it took several minutes before she even touched the tenderloin on her plate. I had both expected and hoped that she would show greater interest in Magdalena Schelderup and her wartime fiancé. What instead fascinated Patricia was the chronology of her fiancé’s death and other events that took place within the group.

  ‘Hans Petter Nilsen was killed on 12 May and Bjørn Varden on 5 September 1941. Magdalon Schelderup joined the Resistance group in the summer of 1941, and the NS member, Jens Rune Meier, was executed at Easter 1942, following Schelderup’s suggestion just before Christmas 1941 . . . The pattern is so striking that I do not for a moment believe that it is coincidence.’

  I nodded and racked my brains to discover what this striking pattern might be.

  ‘Did you ask Wendelboe if he could remember what date Magdalon Schelderup joined the group? Because that is one of the two key questions that I need to have answered before I can move on.’

  I shook my head apologetically. Patricia’s reaction was as instantaneous as it was surprising. She lifted her telephone from the table and held the receiver out to me.

  ‘Then ring him and ask now!’

  I looked at Patricia, astonished, and saw that she was deadly earnest and impatient.

  ‘Please call Petter Johannes Wendelboe at once! This is extremely important, and will possibly determine whether my theory is correct or not. And if my theory is right, we will have taken a great leap forward.’

  I was not entirely sure about calling the Wendelboes at this time in the evening, so tried to bide my time.

  ‘And what date would Schelderup have to have joined for your theory to be confirmed?’

  Patricia did not bat an eyelid and replied immediately.

  ‘If I was going to give a date for when he joined the Resistance movement, I would say 23, 24 or 25 June 1941. But any time within a fortnight after would also fit. If, on the other hand, Wendelboe says that Magdalon Schelderup joined earlier, then my otherwise alluring theory falls apart.’

  I understood nothing. Not a jot. Either about what kind of theory one might build around the chronology of these events, or where the dates 23, 24 or 25 June had sprung from. I sent Patricia a pleading look, but she continued to stare at me without touching her food. As I then continued to prevaricate, Patricia did the most extraordinary thing. She dialled the number from memory and quickly handed me the receiver. I had barely had time to put it to my ear when I heard an authoritative male voice say: ‘You have called the Wendelboes, can I help you?’ Patricia leant forward across the table to hear what he was saying.

  I stammered an apology for disturbing him again, but assured him that I only had one short, straightforward question about the Second World War, which was of some importance, and that was if he could remember around what date Ma
gdalon Schelderup had contacted him in 1941 to offer his services.

  ‘The twenty-fourth of June.’

  The date rang out in my ear. I had to put my other hand up to the receiver in order not to drop it in surprise. And above the telephone I saw Patricia sitting waving her hands triumphantly above her head in silence, like a footballer who has just scored a goal.

  ‘And you are absolutely certain of that?’

  I could hear the sceptical edge in my own voice, but there was no doubt whatsoever in his.

  ‘Absolutely certain. I understand if you find that hard to believe. But 24 June was my brother-in-law Ole Kristian’s birthday, and I was on my way home from his place when I was stopped by Magdalon. And given what happened later, we have always felt that it was a bizarre coincidence.’

  I had to agree with him there. I thanked him and put down the receiver. Patricia had now began to eat her meat with gusto, an unusually smug smile on her lips.

  ‘The cook really has found a perfect tenderloin this time. Sheer luck, of course,’ she commented, after a few mouthfuls.

  I gave her a deeply exasperated and admiring look.

  ‘You would have been burnt as a witch in the Middle Ages for less, Patricia. How on earth did you manage that? And why on earth was 24 June 1941 significant, except for Ole Kristian Wiig’s birthday?’

  Patricia took pleasure in slowly swallowing a mouthful of meat before answering. Then she took the book about battles of the First and Second World War from the pile and put it down on the table between us.

  ‘Fortunately we are not talking about the Middle Ages, but about the Second World War. Nothing special happened on the 23, 24 or 25 June 1941 but, as you know, that made what happened on 22 June all the more dramatic. Keyword: Operation Barbarossa.’

  I inwardly cursed my lack of interest in history at school and waved her impatiently on.

  ‘Germany invaded the Soviet Union, slowcoach, only the greatest military offensive in the history of the world. Three million soldiers marched in a line that was nearly 1800 miles long. And still it caught Stalin and his generals by surprise. The German military machine appeared to be indomitable. Some intelligent and far-sighted people in different parts of the world realized quickly what was about to happen – that Germany was going to bite off more than it could chew, that a great backlash would start in this confrontation with the Soviet Union’s vast population and hard winters. And one of them was Magdalon Schelderup of Gulleråsen in Norway, who, when the opportunity arose a couple of days later, joined the side that he now thought would win the war.’

  Patricia ate a few mouthfuls more, licked her lips and looked very pleased with herself when she continued.

  ‘The balance of resources in the war definitely tipped in favour of the Allies when the USA was forced to join the war following the Japanese strike on Pearl Harbor on 7 December 1941. Once again, a technical military success that was also a huge mistake on the part of the Axis powers. A few days later, Schelderup contacts Wendelboe again, this time to suggest that he and the others should liquidate the NS member who they suspect is the Dark Prince. The chronology of the war and Schelderup’s movements in Oslo is remarkable.’

  ‘But was this Jens Rune Meier really the Dark Prince, then?’

  Patricia shook her head, but took the time to help herself to some more meat before answering. There was certainly nothing wrong with her appetite any more.

  ‘We’re on less firm ground there. But lots of pieces fall into place if Jens Rune Meier had to die not because he was the Dark Prince, but because he knew who the Dark Prince was. Particularly if my theory of who the Dark Prince was is correct.’

  Patricia chewed happily for a minute before looking up at me. I was still so confused by this sudden change in scenario that it was all I could do to ask who had killed Hans Petter Nilsen and Bjørn Varden then, according to her theory. The answer was like a punch in the stomach.

  ‘Magdalon Schelderup, of course. You are forgetting to eat,’ Patricia remarked. It was only then that I woke from my trance-like condition.

  ‘What extraordinary reasoning. You have surpassed yourself. But we cannot be sure about that.’

  Patricia nodded thoughtfully.

  ‘No. But we are starting to get to know the quite remarkable Magdalon Schelderup rather well, following his death. He thought, as his sister said, more like a player than a normal person. He would sooner change the wind than his coat. But if the wind was not for changing, he would swiftly turn his coat. And it is quite obvious that this is what he did in 1941. Whether he went so far as to kill two members of the Resistance is, however, not so clear. There are other possible explanations.’

  ‘That Magdalena Schelderup was the Dark Prince, for example?’ I asked. It was a theory that I had found hard to dismiss, particularly given the information that the wartime fiancé who had let her down was one of those murdered. It was tempting to think that arresting her for the two old murders and two new ones would tie up all the loose threads in this extraordinary case.

  Patricia nodded.

  ‘For example, yes. Or Herlofsen. Or Wendelboe. Or even Mrs Wendelboe or Ingrid, Magdalon Schelderup’s wife at the time. Keep a note of anything you find of interest when you speak to Mona Varden and others tomorrow. But in the meantime, Magdalon Schelderup is at the top of my list of suspects for the two murders. And I would double the odds on him. He obviously seems to have known who else was in the group when he contacted Wendelboe on the way home from Wiig’s birthday. Again, the chronology fits suspiciously well. In spring 1941 there was great optimism on the German side, and the outcome was not yet clear. From a player’s perspective, it makes perfect sense that Magdalon Schelderup engaged in a secret operation for the Germans. In autumn 1941, the campaign in the Soviet Union still looked unexpectedly promising for the Germans. This may have inspired Schelderup to carry out another murder and, for example, tell his contact that he had joined the group as a double agent.’

  I had to agree to the logic in this, but still found it hard to accept that Magdalon Schelderup was the Dark Prince. We agreed to hold the option open in anticipation of further information.

  ‘What about the other incident from the war, the mystery of what happened on Liberation Day?’ I asked.

  Patricia put down her cutlery and leant forwards across the table.

  ‘That is also of increasing interest. There is a possible connection to the other murders in that it happened in the house of the liquidated NS man. There is also one striking detail that the police do not seem to have noticed. But let us wait with that and the other stories from the war until tomorrow. In the meantime, try to find not only Mona Varden, but also the mentally disturbed Resistance man, Arild Bratberg, who supposedly killed Ole Kristian Wiig. If you find Bratberg, and if he is not too mad to answer some questions, then ask him the same question that you asked Wendelboe: that is, whether Wendelboe or any of the others we know have contacted him in recent years. There were five people around the table who had been there during the war and all of them could have strong motives for murder if they, rightly or not, suspected Magdalon Schelderup of wartime crimes. So please try to find this Arild Bratberg.’

  I promised to do that.

  ‘And what about the murder of Leonard Schelderup?’

  Patricia sighed deeply.

  ‘It is a shame to bring it up now when we are having such a nice time, but it really is unavoidable. I think that we are closer to solving the mystery of what happened during the war and the murder of Magdalon Schelderup than we are to solving the new mystery of Leonard’s death. I have a couple of theories about who might have visited him last night, but still lack the information to confirm or disprove them. The witness account from the lady next door is important, but at the same time so full of holes when it comes to numbers, time and gender that there is not much to build on. The only person we know for certain was there and had a key is the mother, but that can be dismissed more or less out of hand. It is highl
y unlikely, both rationally and emotionally, that she would have killed her only child, especially when she might have earned millions more by murdering him a year earlier. It is difficult to see a motive for murdering Leonard, especially when both the mother and daughter at Schelderup Hall have an alibi. And Synnøve Jensen and Fredrik Schelderup were both too happy with their inheritance to want to murder someone in the hope of gaining a few million more.’

  ‘Or perhaps Synnøve Jensen, if she and Leonard were having a relationship and had conspired to kill his father,’ I ventured.

  Patricia heaved a heavy sigh.

  ‘But they obviously were not,’ she said.

  ‘Even though I can see no reason why, could the murderer perhaps have been someone from outside the family, with no connection whatsoever to Magdalon Schelderup’s death? The hairs and fingerprints show that someone else had been there recently. And the mysterious guest has still not been identified,’ I added.

  Patricia lightened up, and laughed her not entirely sympathetic laugh. Then she smiled secretively.

  ‘I shouldn’t laugh; after all, murder is a serious thing. Of course the person who was not only in the flat, but also in the bed, was an outsider. I don’t know who it was, but I do know what happened. What is more, I think I know how you might get hold of this mysterious guest, if that is of interest. None of it is directly linked to the murder, though. But it might still be of interest to talk to the person who left the fingerprints and the hairs in the flat yesterday.’

  I stared at Patricia in fascination and nodded eagerly. With what could have passed for a shrug, she picked up her notebook and wrote down a short text, the content of which was: ‘The police request that the person who visited the deceased Leonard Schelderup in his home in Skøyen on Sunday, 12 May between 10 p.m. and midnight, please contact Oslo Police Station as soon as possible. This person is not suspected of being connected with his death in any way, but must be cleared from the case.’