The Human Flies (K2 and Patricia series) (36 page)

Kristian Lund nodded almost imperceptibly and then looked up at me with pleading eyes, not daring to look at his wife.

‘We had not arranged it, and I certainly did not expect it. I had just come down to the first floor when I bumped into her at the door. We smiled briefly at each other as we passed. It was only when I had opened the door that I realized that she had gone up the stairs, not down. I did not think anything more of it at the time, but obviously it become more significant after the murder and then the reading of the will.’

I held his gaze and hurried to say something before the increasingly red Mrs Lund beat me to it.

‘But you are still not telling us
why
.’

Kristian Lund’s voice was barely audible, but was clear all the same in the tense silence.

‘Partly because I was such an obvious suspect myself. I had been to his door too. If she said that and claimed that he was dead when she arrived, who would you believe then? I think we both realized what a fateful web we were caught in. So we met as soon as we could for a minute out in the hallway the day after the murder. She had the door ajar when I came home. We agreed not to betray each other, and that was it.’

Then he stopped himself. I coaxed him on.

‘So it was partly because you were scared of your own situation and partly because you still had feelings for her and could not bring yourself to hand over the woman you loved to the police. Is that right?’

He nodded. That was when Mrs Lund slapped her husband across the face in an outburst of fury. Fortunately, the slap seemed to wake him up. The healthy red colour returned to his cheeks; he straightened himself up and was more alert when he looked at me.

‘We have pursued you from pillar to post for nine days now, Kristian Lund. Is there anything else of importance that you still have not told us?’

He shook his head firmly.

‘I have passed the point of no return now and am teetering on the edge. I have nothing more to add other than that I deeply regret what I have done and apologize profusely – to you and even more to my wife.’

I had my doubts about this apology and it looked like his wife did too. He noticed this and immediately added: ‘When you arrest Sara, send her my greetings and tell her that I never want to see her again. I will send my lawyer to talk to her in prison regarding the will.’

I instinctively felt nothing but contempt for Kristian Lund and was about to reply that he could tell her himself when he was serving a sentence for perjury and hampering a murder investigation. However, I realized in time that it was perhaps just as well not to aggravate the situation any more right now. His wife seemed to calm down marginally after this last statement, but she was still one of the most furious young women I had ever seen – which sadly is not saying much. The situation felt more and more depressing. And then in the background I heard a strange sound. I eventually realized that it was Patricia, who was tapping her pen for the fifth time. We found our own way out, without turning round.

VII

Patricia did not hold back. As soon as we were in the lift, she burst out laughing.

‘Thus far you have provided me with good and interesting entertainment. So she could forgive him for lies, blackmail, infidelity and possible murder, but not for loving and protecting another woman. I desperately wanted to stay and see what happened, but we still have a ruthless murderer to catch.’

I nodded, slightly bewildered, and stretched out to press one of the lift buttons.

‘Which floor are we going to this time?’

Patricia smiled.

‘Why, this one, of course. But it is useful to be able to talk for a couple of minutes without being disturbed. We are going to see Sara Sundqvist again, and this time she better have a very good explanation if a remand cell at 19 Møller Street is not to be her next stop. Just confront her with Kristian Lund’s latest version, keep your eye on her and listen to what she has to say. I will intervene if necessary.’

I nodded, but my voice was thick when I asked my short question.

‘She really is on thin ice now, isn’t she?’

Patricia mulled it over for a while before answering.

‘Today, her situation has gone from bad to worse. But the day is not over yet, and I am loath to give up on my main theory. So I am very interested to hear what she has to say in her defence, now that her former lover has pushed her to the edge ahead of him. There really is only one thing she can say now to stop herself from falling – and that has to be the truth.’

I replied that I understood what she meant. This was a pure lie, which I later could only justify to myself by saying that the whole situation had been so confusing.

VIII

Sara Sundqvist’s smile was just as friendly as before when she opened her door. I was so impatient to solve the case that I forgot everything that Patricia and I had agreed about positioning and started to talk as soon as we were in the hall.

‘I am deeply disappointed, Sara. You have lied to us again.’

She looked at me uneasily, but clearly did not understand.

‘Kristian Lund has told us that he went up to see Harald Olesen on the evening of the murder and that he saw you on your way up there as he came down. We have every reason to believe that it is the truth.’

An expression of horror flooded her face. Her voice was distant and hesitant when she spoke.

‘I never dreamed that he would dare. Has he really broken his word and betrayed me?’

I nodded gravely, and my frown deepened.

‘He asked me to tell you that he never wants to see you again, that he is looking forward to you being arrested and that he will send his lawyer to meet you in prison to demand the return of his rightful inheritance.’

It was as if Sara Sundqvist’s slim frame had been struck by a triple blow in the boxing ring. She swayed perilously and had to steady herself against the wall. I resisted the urge to reach out and support her.

‘But . . . I don’t understand! That he wanted to maybe, but that he dared . . .’

I have to admit that I did not understand it all myself. As Sara Sundqvist was unarmed, unsteady and leaning against the wall, there seemed to be little danger, so I glanced quickly over at Patricia. She looked as though she understood more, but was watching Sara Sundqvist like a hawk.

‘But . . . it is a relief. Because now I can tell you everything I have wanted to all along!’

I thought it better not to comment on this statement, but indicated impatiently that she should continue. Which she did – and managed to say an impressive amount without drawing breath.

‘It is true that I went to see Harald Olesen that evening. I decided to go up and ask him once again about Deerfoot and my parents. I did not know that Kristian had gone up there already, but realized that he had when I met him on his way down. We just smiled at each other and carried on our separate ways. When I got to Harald Olesen’s flat, he was still alive, but refused to let me in. We argued at the door for a few minutes. He said he was expecting an important guest at any moment, but asked me to come back in the morning. I felt that it was a step forward and left. It was obvious that his health was deteriorating, and he was clearly anxious about his guest. In fact, he was frightened. I remember that it made me feel anxious as well, because he was so secretive and his hand was shaking so badly. But it was not me who killed him. It must have been his mysterious guest, whom I met on the way down.’

Suddenly, Sara Sundqvist seemed to be frightened herself. Her voice trembled when she continued with the story.

‘It was all very alarming. I realized that something was amiss when I saw the man whom Harald Olesen was expecting. His very appearance chilled me and inspired fear and secrecy. He was wearing a blue raincoat with a hood, and had a scarf wrapped round his head so that it was impossible to see his face. I had a strong premonition of catastrophe; it felt like Judgement Day to be honest. I ran down the stairs and buried myself under the duvet with a pillow over my head and hoped for the best. It was no shock when I heard the gunshot, and even less when you came to the door to tell me that he had been killed.’

I gave her a hard and threatening stare, but was met only with pleading, terrified eyes.

‘Do you have any idea who he was?’

Sara shook her head in distress.

‘Until now I have thought . . .’

She looked down and fell silent. I had to cough a couple of times before she continued.

‘Well, the legs were definitely a man’s legs. He was about as tall as me, but it was not possible to see much more because of the raincoat and hood and scarf. At first, I thought he was a stranger who had come from outside, but then you came and said that the murderer must have come from inside the building. And that scared me even more. Konrad Jensen was too short, Darrell Williams too tall, and Andreas Gullestad cannot walk. So that meant there was no one it could possibly be other than Kristian, who had returned in disguise so he would not be recognized.’

The argument was reasonable enough, unless of course the nephew or someone else had managed to get in from outside. But I no longer dared to take anything as given in this case.

‘Could it perhaps have been Konrad Jensen in high boots or something similar?’

She shook her head again.

‘No, no. There was something to indicate that he came from inside. The man in the raincoat was not wearing shoes – he only had black socks on his feet.’

Silence fell in the room. Sara was trembling, which was not hard to understand given what she had told us about her experience, and now I instinctively put my arm round her. She immediately leaned against me, warm and trusting, and seemed to calm down a bit. But the bliss only lasted for a second or two before Patricia’s voice filled the room for the first time. I quickly came to myself and instinctively stepped away from Sara’s dangerously warm and soft body.

‘Was there anything else about this man that was alarming?’

Sara stared straight ahead and nodded several times, gratefully.

‘Yes. The man in the raincoat was light as a feather and danced more than walked – like a cat or a boxer. He seemed to glide down the corridor. It made me think about Deerfoot. But as he did not live in the building, the only possible explanation that I could find was that it was Kristian who was walking like that on purpose so he would not be recognized.’

‘Eureka!’

This outburst was completely unexpected and hung in the air for a moment. Sara and I looked at each other, bewildered. The next thing we heard was Patricia hitting the pad with her pen again and again, as if the pen were a drumstick.

‘Brilliant – that is just what we needed! You are obviously innocent. The man in the blue raincoat shot Harald Olesen shortly after you saw him. And I know where to find him!’

At first, Sara looked like she might float up and away. And then she did – and landed beaming with her arms round my neck. I could hear some clucking sounds in the background, which meant that Patricia was enjoying the spectacle. The chuckling stopped mysteriously as soon as Sara came to her senses and sheepishly lowered her feet to the floor again.

I have to admit that my first thought was that it was Kristian Lund who was going to be arrested, after all. My second thought was that I did not object to that in any way. However, Patricia’s next words quickly put an end to that theory.

‘So, now we can finally go and meet this Mr Deerfoot. And if you would like to meet him too, Sara, please join us.’

Sara looked at me and then gave me a quick hug when I said that of course she could come. We all rushed out in convoy to the lift.

IX

‘Are we going down to the ground floor, then?’ I asked.

Patricia nodded quickly and Sara looked as if she would follow us to the ends of the earth without protesting.

When the lift door opened, we were met with a delightful scene. Darrell Williams and Cecilia Olesen were sitting opposite each other talking as if they would never stop. The caretaker’s wife had discreetly retired, and Joachim Olesen was looking pointedly out of the window. Darrell Williams was unrecognizable. Suddenly, he was the world’s most amusing and charming man, even from a distance. Just as we emerged, he leaned forward and kissed her tenderly on the mouth. Patricia clucked contentedly again and pulled at my hand.

‘It really was a good idea to get the niece and nephew to come here too,’ she said, with a smile.

When I started to move towards them, she held me back firmly by the hand.

‘Wait a while – we can talk to them later. Don’t disturb their bliss. Let us rather pay a visit to the one neighbour I have not yet met.’

It was in fact Joachim Olesen whom I had expected to talk to, but I quickly gave this up as Patricia was pointing eagerly at the first door on the right.

X

Andreas Gullestad opened the door with his usual jovial smile and immediately invited all three of us in. He accepted my explanation of Patricia in the wheelchair without question and added with self-irony that it was good to meet a wheelchair user who still wanted to contribute to society. I caught a wry smile passing between them.

While Gullestad went out into the kitchen to get some cups and to make coffee, I installed Patricia by the door. Sara and I sat down by the table in the living room. Our host came in again from the kitchen with the coffee and poured us all a cup. I was still impatient to prove my theory that Joachim Olesen was Deerfoot and could not understand what new information Patricia expected to find here.

It was only when Andreas Gullestad had settled and then asked what he could help me with today that I suddenly realized that something was wrong – very wrong indeed.

It came quite literally in a flash, when the ceiling light caught something silver that our host was wearing round his neck.

Either he had not been wearing the necklace on previous visits or I had simply not noticed. I sat there staring at the pendant as if hypnotized. Andreas Gullestad, meanwhile, looked annoyingly relaxed and not in the slightest bit threatening as he sat there in his wheelchair.