The Human Flies (K2 and Patricia series) (35 page)

I glanced over at Patricia, who just then tapped her pad with her pen twice. We thanked Sara for her time and asked her to stay in the flat and not to let anyone else in. She slouched in the chair and whispered that she had not murdered Harald Olesen and that she would not let anyone in other than me. She repeated this twice, like an oath, as I wheeled Patricia out of the flat.

III

‘She still knows more than she is letting on,’ Patricia said, as soon as we were in the lift.

I had to admit that this chimed well with my own gut feeling.

‘So, what do we do now?’ I asked.

Patricia looked determined.

‘Well, we can hope that if she has some time on her own to think, things might improve. She is terrified of something. I am tempted to say that it is either something she has done herself or something she has seen. But she is so frightened and tense that we need more information before we can push her any further. And perhaps we will find that where we are going now.’

It sounded so convincing that I just nodded and asked where we were going.

‘To the second floor,’ Patricia said, and impatiently stretched out her arm and pressed the lift button.

Patricia looked so small and thin in her wheelchair in the confines of the lift, but her voice was just as clear and firm as at home in the big library in the White House.

‘Start by welcoming him back and be nice, then ask him if he was at all sad when Harald Olesen was murdered. Remind him of his old conflict with Olesen and suggest that he moved here because of it, and that he had more than one gun in the flat when he first arrived. And finally, ask him who he saw coming towards Harald Olesen’s flat on the evening of the murder. My hope is that this will prompt some new and interesting information. Now, remember where to position me!’

Patricia’s mood was constantly switching from serious to sardonic. Suddenly she smiled and chuckled quietly.

‘To a certain extent, I understand why Kristian Lund was tempted into an affair – I felt almost jealous of her natural beauty and consummate technique. And by the way, she is, if nothing else, definitely guilty of being unhappily in love.’

My heart beat a little faster when she said that, but I did not want to be distracted by the topic for all manner of reasons. Fortunately, the lift stopped at that moment on the second floor. I pushed Patricia out and rang on the bell of the flat next door to Harald Olesen’s.

IV

Darrell Williams was truly a diplomat through and through. He smiled as soon as he saw me, shook my hand and apologized that his work had forced him to leave the country temporarily. He looked at my companion with greater scepticism, but reluctantly accepted my explanation about an injured secretary. It helped when I assured him that nothing from our conversation would be recorded in the official reports and that the notes were for internal use only.

I parked Patricia in the middle of the floor, while Darrell and I sat down on the same armchairs that we had sat in a few days before. This time, the gravity of the situation was clear. Our host was sober, and there was a large carafe of water on the table between us. I noted a tense nervousness behind our host’s smile that I had not experienced on previous occasions.

‘Welcome back. You no doubt understand that your disappearance, which was contrary to my orders, almost caused a very unfortunate situation.’

He looked at me without answering, waiting for me to carry on. Which I quickly did.

‘That being said, it is a pleasure to see you again, and we all hope that the case can now be concluded without any further complications. But that rather depends on you now giving us, better late than never, complete and truthful answers to our final questions.’

Darrell Williams nodded and leaned forward in concentration. I did not have the feeling that I was sitting opposite a human fly, but rather a lion or a bear or some other beast.

‘First question: did you feel any sorrow whatsoever when you heard that Harald Olesen had been murdered?’

Darrell Williams laughed briefly, then shook his head.

‘Absolutely not. He was a great man but not a good man. The story of his will, his son and his relatives only goes to show that. But I was surprised that he had been murdered. I have no idea who shot him and was definitely not there when it happened.’

He hesitated for a moment, but said nothing more. It gave me no choice other than to push him a little further.

‘But you were accommodated here in the flat next door to Harald Olesen in order to ensure that certain names and information did not get out. In the first months that you lived here, you kept two guns in the flat. Did you or your employer at any point consider murdering him as an option?’

Darrell Williams smiled bitterly and I got the impression that he almost nodded before he answered.

‘I am afraid that I can neither confirm nor deny that kind of question. I would like to reiterate that my accounts with Harald Olesen, both personal and professional, had been settled by the time he died. As you yourself saw when you searched my flat, the guns were no longer here at that point. And from what I understand, neither of them would be compatible with the bullet that killed Olesen in any case.’

I gave a cursory nod.

‘But if I am now to believe that you are innocent, and that you and the embassy had nothing to do with the murder . . . could you please think carefully through the evening of the murder one more time and inform us if there is anything you may have forgotten to tell us that might help to track down the real murderer.’

He gave an apologetic shrug.

‘Yes, there is, and I should have thought about it earlier. I saw one of my neighbours heading towards Harald Olesen’s flat shortly before the murder. There are several reasons why I have not mentioned this before. The first was that I did not want myself or the embassy to become any more involved than necessary, and I could of course not be sure that the person I saw passing was in fact the murderer. And later my antipathy towards Harald Olesen intensified. The palaver with the will must have been deeply upsetting for the son.’

My patience was dangerously close to breaking.

‘We want the truth on the table now. So this person whom you saw going towards Harald Olesen’s flat shortly before he was murdered was . . .’

He nodded and picked up the thread.

‘His son, Kristian Lund. It was very unusual to see him up here on the second floor, so I remembered it. It was not long before I went for my evening stroll. I cannot say the exact time, and of course do not know whether he was the one who fired the shot or not. As far as I could tell, he was not carrying a weapon, but he was wearing a winter overcoat that could hide pretty much anything.’

I swiftly glanced over at Patricia, whose eyebrows were knitted so tight that it was clear she was thinking furiously. Then she gently tapped her pad with her pen twice.

On the way out, I mentioned in passing that an old friend of his was down on the ground floor and that she would no doubt be very happy if he went to see her. This triggered first a smile and then a final defence – said with pure American pathos.

‘Despite the unfortunate circumstances surrounding our first meeting, please do not judge me too harshly. I have lived all my adult life fighting dictatorship – first against the Nazis during the war and then against communism after the war. And in all these years, I have carried a great loneliness after losing my first love. It can make you a bit of a loner, even though you might at heart be a good person.’

He hesitated for a moment, then took out his wallet and from a pocket at the front produced a white folded sheet that he held out towards me.

‘This is the letter that you asked about. You can read it if you like,’ he said abruptly.

I looked over at Patricia, who quickly shook her head and tapped her pen on her notebook. I got the very strong feeling that Darrell Williams had carried the letter wherever he went for the twenty years since he received it – and that it possibly was the first time that he had asked someone else to read it. But I no longer had any reason to doubt his word that there was nothing more in his past that was of any significance to Harald Olesen’s murder. He seemed to both understand and appreciate this. We shook each other by the hand before the door closed behind Patricia and me.

V

Patricia was in a good mood and giggled as we went into the lift. I looked at her sternly. She shrugged.

‘In the middle of all this tragedy, there is a really sweet love story. I think it is better to have a happy ending twenty years too late than never at all. She is still younger than my mother was when she had me. You must promise to tell me how things work out for those two.’

I promised to do that – on the condition that she would soon tell me who the murderer was. She was immediately serious again.

‘I do not know for certain quite yet. What he told us was not what I had expected, so we are still missing a link. I can, however, tell you where we are going now, and that is the first floor.’

I was not very impressed. That was exactly what I had just thought myself.

‘And this time to Mr and Mrs Lund?’

Patricia smiled.

‘Of course. This should be relatively simple. Confront him with the fact that he was in Harald Olesen’s flat on the night of the murder, and her with the fact that she is lying when she says that he did not go out. Leave me just by the door as usual, and make sure that you can see them both at the same time.’

I agreed that it sounded like a good plan of action and pressed the button for the first floor.

VI

The Lunds came to the door together. They also accepted my brief explanation about the injured secretary. They asked us in without any protests or obvious pleasure. I positioned Patricia just inside the door, sat down on one side of the coffee table and indicated to the Lunds that they should sit together on the sofa opposite. They automatically did as I told them. When they were seated, Mrs Lund reached out for her husband’s hand. He squeezed hers gratefully.

I started by emphasizing how serious the case was.

‘The investigation has reached a critical stage and we now have every reason to believe that Konrad Jensen did not kill Harald Olesen. Much of what has been said earlier can be forgiven, if we now get the full truth.’

They nodded at the same time and moved almost imperceptibly closer together.

‘So, I will start by saying that I have clear indications that you, Kristian Lund, lied when you said that you had not spoken to Harald Olesen on the evening of the murder. I also have reason to believe that you, Karen Lund, lied when you said that your husband did not leave the flat after he had come home on the evening of the murder.’

Their reactions were very different. She blushed deeply and frantically shook her head, whereas his face lost all colour and he nodded. She was the first to speak.

‘I don’t know who it is who has been lying, but you are on the wrong track now, Detective Inspector! My husband was here with me from the time he came home until we heard the gunshot.’

It was said with such passion that I found it hard not to believe her. The ashen-faced Kristian Lund, who was now cornered and almost unrecognizable, resolved the situation.

‘She is telling the truth,’ he said in a low voice. ‘I am the one who lied again,’ he added, even closer to a whisper.

All three of us stared at him. Fortunately, he quickly continued with the explanation.

‘I went up to the second floor and spoke to Harald Olesen on the night of the murder. But it was before he was killed. I went directly from Sara’s flat and was only there for a minute or so. Then I came back down here and was together with my wife until we heard the shot ring out.’

I gave him a stern look.

‘And what happened during your final meeting with Harald Olesen?’

His smile was twisted.

‘There and then it was pleasant enough and I felt pleased when I came back here afterwards. He opened the door as soon as I rang the bell, but looked surprised when he saw it was me. He said he was expecting someone else for an important meeting and did not have time to talk. I said that it would not take long, as all I wanted was confirmation that he had changed his will as I had asked. He thought about it for a moment or two, then smiled and assured me that he had changed his will. I thanked him and said that I was glad, then left. And I took his word for it until I heard the final will being read out. The old swine had neglected to tell me that he had changed the will yet again, thereby denying me my rightful inheritance!’

I thought quickly through what had happened at the reading of the will – Kristian Lund’s reaction and the other facts that I knew – and realized that it all fitted very well with this last explanation. But I could not remember just then if this was his fourth or fifth version.

I looked questioningly over at Patricia. She held my eye but did not tap her pen. There was a short silence before Patricia did exactly what I had hoped she would: spoke.

‘We can almost definitely conclude that you did not commit the murder. But you are still covering for the person you met on the way down from Olesen’s flat on the evening he was murdered.’

No one was taken aback by the fact that Patricia had spoken. Kristian Lund’s reaction was too dramatic for that. He lost what little colour he had left in his face, dropped his wife’s hand and collapsed back on the sofa. I immediately seized the opportunity to take command again.

‘Exactly who was it you saw on the evening of the murder, and why are you covering for them?’

I fixed Mrs Lund with a beady eye, but her attention was taken up by her husband and her husband alone. Kristian Lund swallowed three times before he managed to say anything. The silence was crackling by the time he finally croaked a short, tiny and devastating word.

‘Sara.’

The name exploded like a bomb in the static silence between us. Mrs Lund’s voice a few seconds later resembled a machine gun.

‘I do not believe it! Have you known all this time that it was her who killed your father and not said a word to me? You could have sent that witch to prison over a week ago! And instead, you have lied to me and the police in order to protect her. Is that really the truth?’