“I don’t know that for sure. Look Thorsen. . you need to let me
“It looks more to me like he had plans to dispose of an
“It’s there Sohlberg. It’s there. Sooner or later we’ll find the boy’s body. I have no doubts he’s somewhere in that farm. Right now we’ve got forty-two police officers and crime scene investigators out there at the grandfather’s farm. We’ve dug up the barn. We already found the boy’s lunch pack. . a key item that you noticed was missing from the boy’s backpack. Really. . what more do we need?”
“Anyone could have put the boy’s lunch box out there. . matter of fact we have cell phone records showing that the stepmother Agnes Haugen was there at the barn one month before the boy’s disappearance. Seems she forgot to turn off her cell phone. . it rang and sent a ping off a cell tower near the barn.”
“Her husband could’ve gotten the call at the farm with her phone.”
“Nope. At the time he was traveling on a long business trip with another Nokia manager.”
Thorsen frowned. “Well then why in the world did you arrest the father if you haven’t finished the investigation?”
“Because the arrest is part of the investigation. . the father’s arrest will set off a chain reaction on the part of the other suspects. . especially the stepmother. . as I told Constable Wangelin. . to get a cold case to full boil you need to turn up the heat and concentrate it where it’ll get results.”
“The arrest of the father is more like a blowtorch.”
“You said I could use any means. . do whatever it took to solve this case. . right?”
“Ja. But be careful Sohlberg. . because if you fail. . you’re on your own.”
“I see that nothing has changed.”
“Obviously not when I see that you’re playing with fire
Constable Wangelin drove Sohlberg straight to the residence of Agnes and Gunnar Haugen on Ryghs vei. A short distance from the Haugen house Constable Wangelin stopped the car at the corner of Ankerveien and Ryghs vei to review one more time with Sohlberg the phone records of Agnes Haugen and the timeline for Agnes Haugen and Danica Knutsen on that fateful June fourth. They also went over reams of other information that Wangelin had mined from the massive amounts of material in the binders at the Karl Haugen room back at headquarters.
“One more thing Chief Inspector.”
“Yes?”
“You asked me to look into Agnes Haugen’s statement that she used her husband’s pickup on June fourth because Karl’s science project would not fit in her Audi sports car. I measured the car. . and it turns out that his exhibit could have fit in the back with room to spare.”
“Ja. How interesting,” said Sohlberg slowly as his eyes got that misty far-away look that he was famous for when he was about to tackle and try to solve the most complicated aspects of a crime. “Ja. I think we’re ready to pay Agnes Haugen a visit.”
Secluded and surrounded by trees and pasture at the end of a long private driveway the massive Haugen home could have just as easily have been in the middle of a remote rural area. Sohlberg noted that Karl’s school was less that 2,500 feet northwest of the Haugen household.
Constable Wangelin pointed and said, “Ah look there she is. . ”
Agnes Haugen sat on the grass in her bikini bottom and she read a celebrity magazine while sunbathing topless by the side of her enormous two-story home. Wangelin was sure that Sohlberg had not noticed the woman’s exposed breasts so Wangelin scooted ahead of him and warned Agnes Haugen to put on her bikini top which came on the implanted Vesuviuses one second before Sohlberg came upon them.
Frowning Sohlberg said rather sternly:
“Fru Haugen. . since we’re not here for a picnic shall we move inside your house where we can all sit down in more formal surroundings?”
“Why of course. Whatever you say.”
Sohlberg was not surprised that the expensive home was decorated with gaudy furniture and tasteless accessories which all shouted one thing: “Look at how rich we the Haugens are and you’re not.”
They sat in on an enormous oversize sofa covered with a faux tiger-stripe fabric.
“I’m glad I’m meeting you at last Fru Haugen. I’m Chief Inspector Sohlberg and this is Constable Wangelin whom you’ve met before.”
“Where’s Nilsen? Isn’t he in charge of the case anymore?”
“No. He’s been permanently removed.” Sohlberg was disappointed that her face showed no expression at that bit of news. “I’m in charge now and I’ve been assigned to bring this case to a close. . to a final resolution. In other words to an arrest and a conviction. . ending in a prison cell for the monster who took Karl Kaugen.”
“Is that so?”
Sohlberg studied her demeanor and saw nothing but the fading looks of an unhappy 40-year old suburban housewife whose stone-cold poker face betrayed absolutely no worry or fear.
“Ja. . I will arrest the shameless monster who killed Karl Haugen. . that innocent little boy.”
Sohlberg’s last sentence sent a shadow of worry across her face.
Or was it anger?
Or sorrow?
If she had sorrow then for whom?
Sohlberg waited for the next move from Agnes Haugen. He desperately wanted to see if she would open the door he had just presented to her. If she went along with him and did not object to his stating that Karl Haugen had been killed then she was the culprit or she knew who had killed the boy.
“Did you say killed?. . Is he dead?” Agnes Haugen spoke barely above a whisper. Then she got louder as she firmly rejected the trap offered by Sohlberg. “Did you find a body?. . I can’t believe he’s dead. No. It can’t be.”
“Karl is dead.”
“How. . when?” Tears welled up in her enormous blue eyes.
“We’ll get to that later,” said Sohlberg who was fuming and at the same time admiring the brilliant ease with which Agnes Haugen had cleverly evaded his first trap.
“How can this be?” said Agnes Haugen. “How can Karl be dead?”
Sohlberg offered Agnes Haugen his second trap. He invited her to open the door that would lead to her husband’s conviction. He said:
“Fru Haugen. . I’m here to gather evidence to convict your husband in the kidnaping and murder of his son. . the minor Karl Haugen.”
“You’ve already decided it’s Gunnar?”
Agnes Haugen reminded him of a mouse sniffing the bait on the trap. Sniffing but not nibbling. “I don’t decide anything Fru Haugen. . the evidence decides for me.”
“What’s the evidence?”
Sohlberg almost smiled. He was surprised at her cleverness and boldness. Parry and thrust.
“That’s not a matter for your consideration Fru Haugen. . is it?. . Unless of course you yourself have. . ”
Sohlberg said nothing more. He threw a blank look at Agnes Haugen and then he set up his third trap — the silent treatment.
Seventeen very uncomfortable minutes passed by in complete silence. Sohlberg had used this silent treatment quite effectively over the years. More than 2/3rds of all homicide suspects had started talking to Sohlberg out of nervousness and guilt when he gave them the silent treatment. Talkative suspects soon progressed from small talk to asking questions or making comments and their questions or comments always led to damaging admissions or confessions of the full or partial variety.
Agnes Haugen fidgeted when minutes 18 and then 19 and 20 came and went by. She could stand it no longer and suddenly blurted out:
“Well. . what’s this all about?. . What do you want?”
“Fru Haugen. . don’t you know what this is all about?. . This is all about a little boy. . your stepson.
