“Just continue, William,” Uncle Ike said gently, drawing on his cigarette and blowing smoke over the papers in front of him. I was confused. How could they know about Anders? But I had to keep going.
“OK. Sir. Anyway, it turned out Rolf had seen Anders go into the map room the night Knut Birkeland was murdered. He couldn’t say anything at the time because the reason he was in that part of the building was that he was coming downstairs after killing Birkeland. He had no excuse for being there. He had actually tried to pin the murder rap on Anders by planting that key in his room.”
“What does this have to do with what happened in Norway?” asked Cosgrove.
“Well, Rolf admitted to the murder, but said he wasn’t a traitor, and he didn’t want to let Anders escape. The last thing he intended to do before disappearing was kill Anders. He very nearly did, and me, too.”
“Tell us exactly what happened, Billy,” said Harding. “Exactly.”
Harding stared at me and I saw they were all looking at me, waiting for something. Tension seemed to buzz in the air, as if they could barely contain themselves while they waited for me to tell my story.
“I went into the hut to wait for Rolf, disguised as Anders, in his uniform. Instead of coming inside where we could take him, Rolf threw a grenade through a rear window. If I hadn’t stepped outside at that moment…”
“Was Anders killed then?” Harding asked.
“No. Nor me either, Major.” Thanks for the concern, buddy.
“What happened next?” said Harding, as if I didn’t matter.
“A lot, sir. But basically I shot him. Dead.”
“Anders, the spy?” Cosgrove asked, grasping the arms of his chair and moving his bulk forward, agitation showing in his raised voice.
“No! Rolf, the murderer. Of Knut Birkeland and Daphne, remember?”
“We remember, William,” Uncle Ike said. “It’s just important that we get this straight. What happened to Anders?”
“Nothing. He helped me after Rolf almost blew my head off, and then he left.”
“You let him go?” asked Cosgrove.
“Yeah. I was unconscious for a while,” I said. “Anders could’ve killed both Rolf and me while we were struggling. He tried to get Rolf to give up, and he didn’t gun me down when he could have.”
I shrugged. There was just no way to explain it that made sense. I’d let an enemy agent with the secret invasion plans go free. Period. Lock me up. I watched three sets of eyes flick back and forth, until Harding and Cosgrove settled on Uncle Ike and each gave him a slight nod of the head.
“Excellent!” said Uncle Ike, slamming his fist on the table. “Excellent, William!”
“Well done, old chap,” Cosgrove said, falling back into his chair, and pounding the arm with his hand. “Well done!”
Harding actually smiled as he closed the folder.
“What the hell is going on… sir?”
I looked to Harding, then Uncle Ike. This didn’t make any sense. I had forged orders, caused four undeserved deaths that I knew of, and let an enemy spy go. I expected to be clapped in irons, not clapped on the shoulder.
“Major Harding, please explain to William. He deserves the truth now.”
Harding raised an eyebrow and paused for a second, his hand on the red-tabbed folder. “The whole truth, General?”
“The whole truth. It’s good to keep in practice. We’ll need to remember what it’s like when the war’s over,” Uncle Ike said, his easy grin lighting up his face.
“We knew all along that Anders Arnesen was an enemy agent,” Harding began. “Major Cosgrove had captured and turned Anders’s contact early in the war. We knew he was coming, his code name, the works. We steered him to the Norwegian Brigade and allowed him to gain influence with the king’s government to provide him with the opportunity to learn about the invasion.”
“So it was all a fake?” I asked, the entirety of their deception slowly dawning on me. The sloppy security at Southwold, the winter gear being distributed so openly, the map case that anyone with a jackknife could jimmy open…
“Yes, a rather elaborate ruse actually,” Cosgrove said. “But we were worried that Arnesen would find it all too easy and convenient. So we decided to conduct an investigation, but one that would have little chance of succeeding. We wanted him to feel the heat and leave the country as soon as possible. That’s why King Haakon gave his permission for him to go back to Norway.”
All of a sudden the lightbulb went off, the final piece that I hadn’t understood.
“That’s how you knew in advance about me, being from Boston and all. I was the investigation that couldn’t succeed! You were counting on me to screw up!” Now I started to get steamed.
“Calm down, Boyle,” Harding interjected. “Yes, Major Cosgrove was not fully briefed and made some untimely remarks.” I could see looks passing between them and knew Harding was finessing some sore points.
“With the murder of Birkeland,” he continued, “things became complicated. I had to keep your search for the killer from uncovering our spy before he got out of the country. You were pretty hard to keep on a short leash.”
“Can you just explain a few things about the murder of Knut Birkeland?” Cosgrove asked. “We understand the motive now, and we’ve surmised that the note Birkeland left was really part of another note.”
“Yes. He was offering his resignation. That was the final act he referred to.”
“To force the king’s hand,” Harding suggested. “To induce the king to appoint him rather than Skak as senior adviser.” I nodded.
“But what about the timing of the murder?” asked Cosgrove, a confused look still on his face. “Wasn’t Rolf Kayser off hunting with the king when the murder took place?”
“Based on the condition of the body, I thought so at first. But there were several small clues that finally came together. I found out that Rolf was big on medical training for himself and for his men, so they could treat their wounded in the field. He knew enough basic first aid to be pretty familiar with how the body works. I also remembered that when I examined Birkeland’s body he was very clean, as if he had just bathed. But there was stubble on his face. I wondered then why a guy would bother to clean himself up and not shave.”
“What does that mean, the stubble?” Uncle Ike asked.
“A lot of people don’t know it, but hair continues to grow after death. Remember, Birkeland had a heavy, thick beard. I realized he hadn’t been killed when we’d thought, but several hours earlier. Unfortunately, I didn’t think of that until I went for a swim in the cold waters off the coast of Norway.” I decided not to tell them how or when it had really come to me.
“Cold water?” Cosgrove was really confused now.
“Yes. Cold water and old plumbing. The night of the murder, I had a little too much to drink. I wanted a nice big glass of cold water and some aspirin. Well after midnight there was hardly any cold water in the pipes. That was because Rolf had Knut Birkeland’s body in the bathtub, running cold water over it continuously, and turning it regularly for hours. Slowing down the onset of rigor mortis. And overtaxing the ancient plumbing. Turning the body kept the blood from pooling and delayed lividity. The cold water slowed down the natural process of decay. Kayser probably shaved Birkeland in the bathtub, not knowing his whiskers would begin to grow back, enough to be noticeable to the touch in the morning.”
“Then he dressed him, tossed him out the window, left the last page of the note with his gold coin, and went off to meet the king, certain that the condition of the body would suggest a time of death that would clear him as a suspect,” said Harding, ticking the points off on his fingers.
“Yes. And then coming down from Birkeland’s room, he saw Anders breaking into the map room. He hotfooted it back upstairs to stash the key in Anders’s room, where he hoped we’d find it. And here we are.”
“William,” Uncle Ike said, “your investigation was remarkable. We sorely underestimated you. You were resourceful and courageous in finding the perpetrator of these crimes. Not only did you apprehend a murderer; you saved the life of Anders Arnesen. If Rolf Kayser had killed him, he never would have made it back to Germany with the invasion plans. In no small part we owe the success of this operation to you.”
“So there is no invasion? All those troops and commandos, the underground, was that all a fraud?” I was still having a hard time taking it all in.
“No, William,” Uncle Ike said. “Not a fraud. A plan to save Allied lives. A deception. We’re going to turn Norway into the biggest German POW camp you ever saw, for the rest of the war. Right now, the Germans are
