The Forest Lake Mystery

by The Forest Lake Mystery (retail) (epub)

  She didn’t understand how they had come here. So, Sjöström must have… she shivered and thought about Annie’s fate and Sjöström’s hardness and brutality towards her.

  The next morning, she told Holst about her discovery and it surprised her that he didn’t have a stronger reaction to it. But he didn’t say a word about Annie. She thought he was so strangely silent and withdrawn.

  Later in the day, Holst received a visit from Lieutenant Claes.

  Jeannette had lain down again, while Holst was working on the official report and the letters to the consulates. Signora Montuori, who tended to glide around him with feline stealth, approached him and announced that a young gentleman wanted to talk to him. She handed him a card, which he took and read: ‘Claes Ankerkrone, Lieutenant in the Crown Prince’s Hussars, Proprietor of Gammalstorp’.

  “Have him come in,” he said abruptly, and Claes entered the room wearing a weak smile.

  He bowed minimally. Holst offered him a chair and the lieutenant sat down without showing any embarrassment.

  “I really came to see Donna Jeannette. I hadn’t expected that Lieutenant Holst would have construed poor Hugold’s request to protect the lady so literally, but she isn’t wanting for anything, I can see.”

  Holst blushed but forced himself into a polite question.

  “Was there anything else, Lieutenant?”

  Claes became serious.

  “Yes, Hugold Sjöström and I were friends once upon a time. I don’t usually desert a friend in need. You are in the strongest position, so I will use the opportunity to ask you how much would be required to get Hugold out of this embarrassing situation.”

  Holst shook his head.

  “I’m afraid that’s hardly possible. As I told you yesterday, it’s a very significant amount.”

  Claes smiled a little haughtily.

  “There’s a difference in what one considers to be significant, Lieutenant Holst. I don’t usually take money so seriously.”

  “Your wife, you mean,” Holst chipped in, irritated by the young man’s demeanour.

  Claes bit his lip.

  “I haven’t come to pick a quarrel.”

  “Good Lord no,” said Holst with a slight bow, “but you are mistaken about the situation. I have had the task of having Sjöström arrested. I lack the authority to negotiate his release. I can only advise you to find a lawyer who can get access to him, but I would advise you against it.”

  “Why?” asked Claes – he would have added a few snide words about Jeannette, but thought better of it.

  Holst got up and went over to the young man.

  “Lieutenant Ankerkrone,” he said, “your father is my friend. I feel more friendship for your family than you suspect. I could also be of some service to you if you would trust me. Among gentlemen, it is customary to trust someone’s word. If you wish to be my friend, you won’t regret it.”

  Claes shifted slightly.

  “You must forgive me, Mr Holst, but I am an officer, you are a detective – it’s a very honourable profession, I understand, but… well… that’s impossible.”

  “I didn’t think you were stupid, Lieutenant Ankerkrone,” said Holst sharply.

  Claes was startled.

  “I have serious matters to deal with and I have no intention of allowing my plans to be thwarted by stupidity. You can thank your name and my friendship with your father for me not acting in this case differently than I am doing. You probably remember what you were doing around 27th March this year and you probably know that if your father hadn’t acted like he did on that occasion, you would now have found yourself in a very similar position to your friend, Hugold Sjöström. You forget rather too quickly, Lieutenant, but you ought to know that you’re talking to a man who knows you and your circumstances more intimately than you may suspect. I have hardly any use for you, but I would advise you not to get in my way. It could turn out to be more expensive than you could manage, no matter how little importance you think you attach to the value of money.”

  Claes had gone pale and he clenched his teeth.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Lieutenant Ankerkrone, I don’t know how eager you are to appear as a witness in a court case pursued against Hugold Sjöström for falsification and fraud against your former mistress, Annie Cederlund, or if you want a Swedish jury to enter the bar along with Mr Karlkvist from Kristianstad. It’s possible though that your wife would know how to judge that scandal for its worth – and that your neighbours and friends in Scania would feel terribly concerned at reading in their morning newspapers a testimony that could be just as interesting as any recent scandals.”

  Claes held his tongue.

  “You might prefer, Lieutenant Ankerkrone, to continue negotiations in a somewhat more courteous tone – I’m perfectly agreeable. I don’t usually offer my friendship twice, but I make an exception with you for the reasons already mentioned.”

  Holst stretched out his hand.

  Claes took it reluctantly.

  Holst smiled.

  “As you will see, we two can easily become friends, even though I’m a ‘detective’, as you call it. I’m quite used to mixing with people and quite cooperative. In addition, we two have common interests. It’s a question of avoiding the process I talked about and that will be simplest if you conduct yourself in a rather passive manner in the meantime. It’s not certain that there won’t be any need for the funds you seem to have so extravagantly at your disposal and there will no doubt be ample opportunity for you to become of primary importance. But for the time being, it will be best for the case if you keep yourself on a secondary level.”

  It was apparent that Holst had made a deep impression on the young man and they parted on tolerably good terms. Holst had to admit that from the very beginning he had found a footing with his distinguished and wealthy brother-in-law, which would certainly be beneficial to both when the brother-in-law relationship became known to Lieutenant Claes.

  On the same day, Holst informed Captain Ankerkrone of the discovery of Annie’s jewellery, the pivotal damning evidence against Sjöström.

  XVI

  The Bridge of Sighs leads the wanderer from the Doge’s Palace over the canal to the institutions of justice. Hugold Sjöström was incarcerated here in a narrow cell, sitting on a wooden bed at a small table fixed to the wall. The days passed slowly for him and, in deep uncertainty, he sat bowed and staring straight ahead. He hardly dared to think. It was true that no-one had told him anything else except that the reason for his imprisonment was the falsification, but he sensed that there was more to it than that. Just the fact that it was a Danish police officer who had effectuated his imprisonment made him unsure. What business was the falsification in Helsingborg of the Danish police? And who could have reported it, now when Annie was sleeping for eternity on the bottom of the quarry? He hadn’t seen anything about the finding of the body, because he didn’t read Danish or Swedish newspapers, but he suspected that Annie’s disappearance must have attracted attention and that and that alone was the reason for his imprisonment.

  Jeannette must have betrayed him; she was in collusion with the police officer, that much was clear, and Claes Ankerkrone – he whom he had met once again and tried to inveigle into his plans with Jeannette’s help – what about him? No, that was unthinkable. But it was possible that Captain Ankerkrone had discovered his new plot and had broken his word in order to protect his son from new dangers.

  That was how it must be, but it would cost him dearly if he tried to cast him into misfortune.

  He laid his plans. He would deny everything and blame the Captain, who had told him that Annie had killed his wife. No person in the world could know what had actually happened that morning, when he had tried to persuade Annie to voluntarily assign him everything through marriage. And while he was thinking about this, the scene that morning in the forest appeared so clearly to him. He saw Annie in her tight travel suit and black hat, happily smiling in the antici
pation and certainty of standing at her goal. He was reminded of her anxiety when the waiting time stretched out and the Captain hadn’t turned up. He remembered so clearly how he had spoken to her and told her that the Captain had told him that she was his wife’s murderer and that there was no hope for her; how he had tried to force her and how, when her anger rose and she mocked him using the coarsest words she could find, he had decided to execute the plan he had put together when he heard at the hotel that Ankerkrone had departed for the south on the previous evening.

  He had talked to her once again, and when she had wanted to leave him and rush away, he had spoken kindly to her and tried to help her pull herself together and enjoy a bracing glass of cognac. She had screamed and said, “Are you trying to kill me with poison!” He had laughed and handed her the glass and she had given him a strange look and drunk it, almost as if she knew it was poison, almost as if she wanted to die because she couldn’t survive the bitter sorrow that had struck her.

  The poison had worked straight away and she had collapsed almost instantly. He still remembered how he had undressed her body and lowered it into the lake, bound to large stones; how feverishly he had worked in the thickets; how he had fled with the basket where he had hidden the clothes, after pocketing the watch and the rings to make sure they didn’t lead to recognition. How he had met Karlkvist in Helsingborg and bribed him to be helpful before quickly leaving the country with Jeannette to lose all the rich spoils at the damned green table in Monte Carlo. Now it was over. They must know everything, and now they would take him back to Sweden or Denmark and try to force him to talk.

  But he wouldn’t talk and woe to anyone who had betrayed him. There was no evidence against him.

  The key rattled in the heavy door; he got to his feet and, standing in front of him, he was startled to see the only two men who had ever cared for him, the two who had always been ready to help no matter how desperate a state he had been in: Captain Holger Kurk and Bror, his brother.

  He remained standing, unable to speak. What should he say?

  Kurk approached him; the turnkey was still standing in the door but, on a sign from the Captain, he withdrew.

  The three were left alone.

  Captain Kurk’s face was serious, indicating that a firm decision had been made.

  Bror Sjöström stood with his eyes lowered and was deeply moved.

  Hugold offered to shake Kurk’s hand, but he didn’t take it. Bror turned away when Hugold approached him.

  “What do you want of me?” asked Hugold impassively.

  Kurk looked at him firmly.

  “To help you, Hugold, for the last time in your life,” he said with full seriousness.

  Hope brightened in the face of the prisoner, but Kurk quickly continued.

  “Not how you may think, Hugold. We can’t open this prison door for you. We’ve helped you previously, even though you’ve rewarded us poorly and dragged your brother’s honourable name in the mud throughout Europe. But we can’t help a murderer, an assassin, Hugold, because that’s what you are, and you are condemned to judgement.”

  “You’re lying, Captain – it’s not true.”

  “And Annie’s watch, locket and rings which Holst has found in your possession?” replied Kurk softly and calmly.

  Hugold went pale and supported himself against the bed.

  “There’s no way around it, Hugold,” continued Kurk. “The body of the woman you murdered has been found, and in a short time you will stand face-to-face with your victim. Denying it won’t help, because your steps have been followed one by one, and evidence will be presented which you won’t be able to contradict.”

  Hugold pulled himself together.

  “You’re lying, Captain – the murderer is Arvid Ankerkrone…”

  “Do you think that lies can save you now?” Kurk had taken a step towards him. “Don’t even try to imagine that you can avoid your fate. Or perhaps you believe you can? There is plenty of evidence as to where Arvid Ankerkrone was on 27th March this year, but where were you and what was in the basket that you bought in Elsinore and that you left on the train when you went back to Karlkvist in Helsingborg via Copenhagen? Or do you think anyone will accuse Arvid Ankerkrone of mixing poison into the cognac bottle you left in the basket with Annie’s clothes?”

  Kurk spoke calmly, but with a strong emphasis on each word.

  Hugold shuddered – he could feel he was lost. Just the fact that Kurk could tell him word for word how everything had happened, and that Ankerkrone would be cleared by the evidence that could be obtained of his presence elsewhere, while he himself would be convicted by the large number of testimonies from all who had seen him. He collapsed and put his head in his hands. When he looked up, Kurk was standing bent over him.

  “Hugold,” he said, “there was once a time when you were a bright lad and when I loved you like my own son. Much has happened since then, but I still have enough left for you that I will save you from the shame of standing before the court as a murderer and from having to lay your head under the executioner’s axe. This will be your lot. You were a soldier, a brave one at that. There’s still one path open for you. I can’t see any other, Hugold. Make your atonement to He who is above us all, and then take that path, the only one left.”

  Hugold rose and stretched out his hand towards his brother. The equerry shook his head.

  “I can’t help you,” said Bror in a subdued, quivering voice. “Nor can I call you brother any more – what you’ve done is too hideous. You must listen to what Holger says, because I can’t, Hugold, I just can’t.”

  The equerry turned away.

  Kurk was standing with folded arms and looked firmly at the prisoner. Hugold was fighting a fierce inner battle, but he couldn’t speak.

  The turnkey appeared in the doorway – the rules decreed that the visit must end.

  Bror took Hugold’s hand, but released it quickly – it was cold; he turned and walked out quickly.

  Kurk remained for a moment. It was as if a gleam had been lit in the eye of the prisoner that was promising.

  “Courage, my boy, courage,” whispered the captain and pressed his hand while looking him stiffly in the eye. Then the door closed behind them.

  Hugold collapsed in icy despair – and as his head bent over the table, he saw a small white package lying close to the wall.

  * * *

  Two days later, Holst received a message from the prison that the Swedish lieutenant being held under arrest had died suddenly. The cause was unknown.

  Bror Sjöström sat in Holst’s apartments the day after the news of his brother’s death. He was saddened, but he had to admit that what had happened was the best for all concerned. He was proud of his family and its name, and Hugold, notwithstanding the great sacrifices he had had to make, had been a constant source of disquiet and concern. He forgave Holst for being the direct cause of the disaster; he wanted to forget everything but he was still deeply moved.

  Jeannette, who was still living in Signora Montuori’s apartment and went around as quiet as a mouse in sorrow over her little broken dream of happiness, sat silently in a corner of the living room. She didn’t want to talk badly about Hugold, but she shivered whenever she thought about Annie’s fate.

  Holst had had an idea and turned to the equerry.

  “Lieutenant Sjöström – you could do a good deed. This young girl is in a lonely situation in a foreign country and without a protector. Her father served Count Falkenberg loyally for many years; take her home to Sweden where her mother is still alive, and thereby correct the damage that Hugold has inflicted on her.”

  The equerry gave it a moment’s consideration while Jeannette wept quietly in a corner.

  Bror Sjöström’s good heart couldn’t be denied and it didn’t take long before he accepted the suggestion. Jeannette allowed Holst to decide; she was really sad, but Holst patted her cheek and stroked her hair away from her forehead.

  “You must follow my advice, Jea
nnette. That’s the best way I can pay my debt of gratitude to you.”

  And so it was decided, although Jeannette still cried.

  That same evening, she left Venice with Bror Sjöström and headed north. There was a position available in ‘Arcadia’, and during their journey, the equerry decided to offer it to Jeannette. Jeannette accepted – and it may be assumed that she would know how to hang on to Arcadia’s resident for the rest of his days.

  XVII

  There was supposed to be a festival in St Mark’s Square and the music should have been playing between the pikes bearing the standards in front of the church, but it was noticed that the glorious Campanile had developed a threatening crack and the festival was cancelled.

  The military blocked off around the square and people stood at a respectful distance and looked with concern at the bell tower. On the morning of the following day, 14th July, Holst ate lunch with the Ankerkrones at their hotel, and when they went to the Piazzetta to see how things were, they found the square full of people so it was only with great difficulty that they could fight their way to the gondolas’ landing stage at the quayside.

  They were standing pinned up against the wharf, when suddenly a buzz from the large crowd of people, like a wave breaking, surged across the square. Holst directed his gaze towards the tower and saw to his surprise how the top, with the spire and the statue of St Mark in bronze slowly sank and, as the incessant buzz rose and grew like an ocean, the whole tower slowly began to sink, as if pushed into the ground by an invisible but mighty hand. The stones of the tower poured down like foam over the Logetta del Sansovino and its glorious sculptural work, while the dust swirled up into the clear sky. The doves from the peepholes fluttered around in fear and sought shelter on the domes of the cathedral. The mumbling from the crowd became a scream, and mixed into the din came the roaring sound of the tumbling stones. But the tower didn’t fall; it slowly sank towards the ground, while its spikes pointed towards the sun, and suddenly, as the screams cut through the air, the noise grew to an almighty crash and dust whirled up in the air, while the stones cascaded like a waterfall across the square and into the broken gable of the royal palace. The air was filled with a fog of dust, and the crashing drowned out everything. Then suddenly, everything went silent and quite slowly, a menacing, sorrowful sound rose like a hollow sigh from the heaving sea of humanity and was carried by the wind across the lagoon.