“Good question, Mr. Skak. There was no key inside Mr. Birkeland’s room, which was locked. That means that someone was in his room and locked it from the outside when he or she left.”
“The murderer.”
“Maybe. Or maybe Birkeland did kill himself and someone entered the room after the fact, for some other reason then left and locked it. Did you visit him in his room last night?”
“We were not in the habit of visiting each other in our personal living quarters. We were not… friends, I regret to say.”
“You don’t look like you regret it at all, Mr. Skak.”
“Oh, but I do, I do, young man. If he were alive, I could expose Knut Birkeland for the thief he was. I could have ended his influence with the king and won the post of senior adviser for myself. But now that he is dead, by whatever means, I will certainly be appointed by default, and we will never know what he did with the gold he took.” It was a good answer, and there was a rage in his voice that seemed real to me.
“When did this problem with the gold start?”
“Aboard the Glasgow, after we left Molde. You heard about the crate of coins that broke open. I had been keeping a tally of the crates during our journey. I kept track of every small shipment that Birkeland sent off. It was a good idea, I must admit, to use the fishing fleet. It protected the entire shipment from capture by the Germans, but it also allowed it to slowly leave our control.”
“Did you lose much of the gold?”
“No, the Norwegian people rallied around us through every step of the journey. Everyone helped and no one informed the Germans. But when the last of the shipment, about two hundred crates, distributed to Birkeland’s fleet of fishing vessels in Nordland was unloaded, we ended up two crates short.”
“Only two? How could that have been Birkeland’s fault?”
“Lieutenant, first you must understand that each crate weighed sixtyfive pounds. That makes one hundred and thirty pounds of gold, a fortune for anyone. Each ship’s count was right, which means the two crates were diverted in the off-loading. Which was supervised by Knut Birkeland.”
“Means and opportunity, but no motive,” I said.
“Pardon me?”
“Police first look to see if a suspect had the means, the motive and the opportunity to commit a crime. Birkeland had two out of three, but what would his motive have been?”
“Money. A great deal of it.”
“Would you have stolen it?”
Skak paused for a second to actually consider the question. “I would like to say no, but then again, I have never had the means and the opportunity, as you say, presented to me. Who can say what they would really do? Would you commit such a crime?”
“Good question,” I admitted. I thought back to the last big bust I had been involved with before I left the cops. We had got the jump on the Riley brothers as they were about to fence a shipment of stolen watches: ladies’ watches, fourteen-karat gold plated, a gross of them. While we were unloading the boxes into the evidence locker, one of the guys dropped one and it busted open. I had given my mom a fourteen-karat gold plated watch for Christmas that year. I never really thought of it as stealing. Hell, it had already been stolen, and we got it back! So, yeah, I took my share when it wouldn’t hurt anyone, so who was I to judge Birkeland, up in Nordland on a little fishing boat, watching all the gold in the world pass him by? I looked Skak straight in the eye and answered him.
“No. Once a police officer, always a police officer. I wouldn’t steal.”
“Exactly. Your training prohibits you from doing so. My family is quite wealthy, and I have few needs, since I have dedicated my life to government service.”
“In other words, you prefer power to money.”
“Lieutenant, you are rude and overly blunt. But not incorrect. Wealth by itself is nothing more than an amusement for those who are born to it. Knut Birkeland, however, was born to a poor fisherman, and built up his fishing fleet and his political fortunes by hard work alone. To such a man, great wealth is an aspiration, and a temptation.”
“I have to agree with you, Mr. Skak, about money. But it also applies to power. Once you’ve had a taste of it, you can never have enough. The motive you’re describing for Birkeland’s theft of the gold is the same one I could apply to you. You wouldn’t have been able to stand the humiliation and loss of power if Birkeland had been appointed senior adviser. It’s a perfect motive for murder.”
Skak gulped. He didn’t like the picture I was painting. I could see him mentally calculating the chances that just a hint of guilt would keep the king from appointing him, even if I had no proof. Then he brightened.
“Let me grant you that, in your mind at least, that is a sufficient motive for murder. What about your own rules? Where are my means and opportunity? How could I have overpowered and killed Knut Birkeland?”
“I’m not sure,” I admitted.
Skak’s face lit up as he warmed to the task of destroying my theory.
“Another thing, Lieutenant. Why do you suppose I was the only one with a great deal to gain from Birkeland’s death? Why don’t you look into who will inherit or take over his business interests? He could have a relative or partner in England who would have much to gain by his death.”
It was a very good point. It was also a long shot, but one worth taking, as well as one I hadn’t thought of. I decided not to thank him for the swell idea.
“Where were you between five thirty and six o’clock this morning?”
“I am a man of very precise habits, Lieutenant. I awake each morning at five thirty. I dress and take a morning walk at six o’clock, rain or shine. I find it clears my head for the day’s work and keeps me fit. I breakfast at six thirty and am at work by seven. This morning, Major Cosgrove joined me on my walk. He wanted to talk about the Underground Army and my plans for it.”
I made a mental note to talk to Cosgrove. He hadn’t mentioned that he’d been up and around, and I hadn’t figured him for the early-exercise much less the walking type.
“Did you see anything unusual in the house or on the grounds?”
“No, just the usual house staff about. Except for Captain Iversen, now that you mention it.”
“Was it unusual for him to be around?”
“I don’t usually see him that early. As I came down the staircase from the fourth floor, I saw him walking down the third-floor corridor very quietly. His back was to me, so he didn’t see me there. He opened his door, which was unlocked, and closed it behind him, very slowly without a noise. I thought it a bit odd at the time, and only remembered when you asked me. Why would he go out and leave his room unlocked and act so furtively?”
I was glad to hear that someone else besides me hadn’t caught on to the unlocked door dodge, until I realized it put me in the same company as this lifeless bureaucrat. I’d have to ask Jens about his excursion, and why he hadn’t mentioned it. That made three guys already up and around the building when Birkeland was killed: Skak, Cosgrove, and Iversen. And maybe Anders, since he couldn’t account for how someone got into his room to leave Birkeland’s key, although that could have been done anytime up until it was found.
“Well, Mr. Skak, maybe he just didn’t want to wake up his neighbors. Anything else?”
“No. Major Cosgrove and I met at the front entrance and walked briskly for half an hour. When we returned I went straight to my room, where I have my breakfast delivered.” The thought of Cosgrove walking briskly for thirty minutes was pretty funny, and it made me wonder why he was so interested in Skak’s plans.
“Lieutenant Boyle, will you be reporting on your investigation to the king?” I could see the worry in his eyes.
“I doubt it, sir. I report to Major Harding, who reports directly to General Eisenhower. He will probably inform Major Cosgrove as a courtesy, but what they do with my report is their business.”
“And when do you think you will complete your investigation?”
“When I understand exactly what happened and why.”
“Well, good luck then, Lieutenant.” I could see that Skak’s faith in me didn’t lead him to foresee a speedy conclusion to this case. His face visibly relaxed and his smile looked almost natural. He must’ve figured that word of his potential involvement wouldn’t get back to the king until he was safely enthroned as senior adviser.
I left and smiled at Brunhilda on my way out, trying to work the Irish charm. Nothing. I’d have had more of a chance with cod on ice at Quincy Market than with her.
