know for decades without ever speaking one single word of acknowledgment or greeting.
He blushed at the thought of acting like a tourist in his own country.
Sohlberg wondered if he would ever fit in his old country. He felt like an alien among his own people. Without a doubt he and Fru Sohlberg had changed a lot by living abroad for so long: four years at Lyon France; four at New York City; two at Salt Lake City in Utah; and, ten at Vancouver in Canada and Seattle in the USA. Change had also arrived at Fiskekroken which was now packed with homes in what had once been farm fields and forests and fisherman’s cabins.
He marveled at how Ulvoya Island had transformed itself since 1975 when his family had moved into their new home which was one of the first modern homes built on the island. Enchanting Ulvoya was now crammed with homes. Sohlberg fondly and sadly remembered the heavily-forested island from his childhood. He certainly did not expect to find the island so grossly overbuilt with homes. The homes squeezed side-by-side reminded him of pleasant well-to-do neighborhoods in Los Angeles like Pacific Palisades.
He walked west on Fiskekroken and was shocked to see so many new homes on the narrow street without sidewalks. Sohlberg could see downtown Oslo between the homes although the larger northern islands of Malmoya and Ormoya sometimes blocked views of the city skyline. He turned into Makeveien which circled the island.
At the corner with Vargveien he stopped. He looked up the gentle hill and stared at the house where his life had taken a turn for the worse when he was three years out of law school. The pretty blue house on Vargveien reminded him of the great painter Gauguin who had suffered so much in Tahiti in the
“Harald?”
A matronly woman stood by a hedge. She looked vaguely familiar. He thought a few seconds and said the first name that came to him:
“Fru Fredriksen.”
“My. . you’ve gotten very formal Harald.”
He instantly realized his mistake but he did not let on to having confused the daughter for the mother. Instead he smiled and said:
“Margerete. . one has to be formal in my line of work.”
How she had changed! The sexy and thin high school vixen Margerete was now a thick-set grandmother with a very square and solid body. He vaguely remembered that a few years ago his mother had told him that Margerete had gone through several unhappy marriages and affairs and was living back on Ulvoya Island with her parents. He wondered if he also looked as old and worn with his bald spot and thinning hair which he kept very short to hide his baldness and age.
“Come now Harald. Is that how you treat an old friend from Videregaende Skole. . High School?”
“Of course not Margerete. How are your parents. . your mother?”
“Gone.”
“Traveling?”
“No. Dead.”
“I. . I’m sorry to hear that. I really am.” He wondered why his mother had not told him. After all his mother had been good friends with Fru Fredriksen who had been his math teacher in the 9th grade in Ungdomsskole or Junior High School. Sohlberg had always suspected that the two women had conspired to act as matchmakers between him and the youngest of the four lovely Fredericksen daughters. But he had little in common with the extroverted Margerete.
“Harald. I’ve wanted to tell you in person all these years that I’m sorry I did not come to Karoline’s funeral. I should have. . ”
Memories flooded and overwhelmed him. His first wife Karoline. Happy times. Three years married. Mountain climbing every summer in Romsdalen valley which is Norway’s Yosemite valley. Then Karoline suddenly gone. Falling. Down down down. Looking straight into his eyes without any surprise or any screaming. Dead. An accident. For unknown reasons she did not properly tie herself into the rope although she was an experienced climber who had summited Eiger and Mt. Blanc and the Matterhorn. The sickening
“I. . I have to go.”
“Come inside with me Harald and talk. We’ll have something to drink.”
“No!” he said too loudly before lowering his voice. “No thanks. I have to go.”
After 20 minutes of solitaire the man switched to play online poker. He quit a short time later when he realized he could not play well.
He whispered, “What shall I do?”
He weighed his options. They ranged from bad to worse. None attracted him. None promised an attractive outcome. He could always strangle her right then and there and dispose of her body in the wood chipper. Maybe he’d slice her lying tongue off before choking her to death. Perhaps before torturing her he’d have to sneak up on her from behind and knock her head into unconsciousness. He would have to surprise her and disable her because she had once been rather muscular and fit as a bodybuilder. He couldn’t risk her using her athletic skills to somehow overpower him.
Had she taken steroids to win competitions?
The drugs might still be in her body endowing her with extra-manly strength. So he might just have to shoot her in the head or bash in her skull from behind. On the other hand a taser or stun gun would perfectly disable her with a jolt of 100,000 volts. That would shut up her lying devious mouth.
The door opened. She said:
“Honey. . it’s time. Are you coming?”
He nodded.
“Honey,” she said, “I really want to work out hard today. Get rid of the stress. You mind if we stay an extra hour at the gym?”
“Of course not,” he lied. He was desperate if not dying inside. He wanted to be at home to hear any news on the television or radio about breaking developments in the case.
“You know something,” she said with a bright smile, “I’ve been thinking that maybe I’ll go back to competition.”
That was another lie. He knew from eavesdropping on her phone calls that she had permanently quit bodybuilding after placing third in the “Women Over 35 Years Old' category in the Norge Austlandet (Eastern Norway) cup of bodybuilding. She always quit if she did not immediately succeed. He forced himself to be pleasant and said:
“Have you really thought about that my sweet?”
“Honey you know as well as I do that I need to lose weight. I’ve even been thinking of going back to teach. I heard that a teacher position is opening up at Grindbakken Skole.”
Grindbakken Skole: the scene of the crime. No. No way! He could not let her. He would not let her.
Just what is she thinking when she talks about going to teach at Grindbakken? Or is she just taunting him?
Her teaching! More lies and grand deceptions. For years she told anyone who’d listen that she planned on becoming a school principal and then a school district superintendent. He had fallen for that lie and deception until it finally dawned on him that she had a bachelor's and a master's degree in education and yet had never had a full- time teaching job other than working a couple of lowly part-time substitute teacher jobs that she couldn’t even hold for more than a few months before pissing everyone off with her hyper-controlling nature and delusions of grandeur and competence.
He racked his mind trying to remember the nature of her full-time jobs after she lost the part-time substitute teacher gigs.
Where oh where did the crazy broad work at?
A one year gig at the McDonald’s near Oslo University Hospital.
