had been going to say. We couldn’t ask Klaus or Kari any more, though.
‘Do you know that she…?’ I stopped myself in the middle. As Hans Haavik had said himself it looked as though he was going to be a witness, and in that event it would be wrong of me to say too much. Instead I expressed myself as neutrally as possible. ‘This cousin of yours… what sort of person was he?’
‘Hmm, what can I say? They were very ordinary people, both Kari and Klaus. They ran their farm, and Kari did her night shifts at the central hospital here in Forde as a state registered nurse.’
‘Night shifts?’
‘That was the best way of combining work with the farm.’
‘What kind of farming was it?’
‘They had sheep, cows, calves, bit of fruit and berries. Milk subsidies were important, goes without saying. But they made ends meet. Why are we talking about this actually?’
‘So Klaus and Jan Egil were often alone then? At night, I mean.’
He gave me an old-fashioned look. ‘I hope you’re not insinuating what I think you are, Varg?’
‘I’m not insinuating anything at all. But my experience is that very few murders take place without some kind of motive and…’
He interrupted me. ‘Oh yes! You don’t need to expand. I’ve got the point. But does that explain why he killed Kari, too?’
‘No. It’s difficult to understand. Almost incomprehensible. But that’s precisely why… there must have been some strong emotions under the surface.’
He sighed aloud and cast around desperately. ‘Well, I don’t know.’ He looked at Grethe. ‘Have you any ideas?’
She shook her head. ‘None, Hans. None at all.’
We sat in silence. I looked at my watch and stood up. ‘Excuse me for a moment. I just have to see if I can make a call.’
I went into reception, and, with extreme reluctance, the officer let me use his telephone. ‘Make it snappy though!’ he added with a stern glare.
I dialled Cecilie’s number. When she answered, I said, half-turning to the officer: ‘We have to be quick — did you find anything?’
‘You won’t believe it, Varg.’
I felt a stabbing pain in my stomach region. ‘Try me.’
‘Mette Olsen moved two years ago from Bergen to Sunnfjord.’
‘To Sunnfjord!’
The policeman sent me a patronising look as though I didn’t know where it was.
‘Apparently to a disused farm belonging to the family.’
‘Yes, everyone has a brother or a sister living in the Sunnfjord district, we all know that. Whereabouts?’
‘It’s in Jolster. I’ve got hold of a detailed description. The farm’s called Leitet and is situated by Kjosnes fjord. You turn off the main road at a place called Sunde.’
‘I know where it is.’
‘Well, you’ll find her there.’
‘As the crow flies, ten to twenty kilometres from where her son has lived for the last ten years… right, thank you very much. Did you find out anything else?’
‘You didn’t ask, but I checked out Terje Hammersten anyway.’
‘And?’
‘He still lives in Bergen.’
‘OK. Thanks again. You’re a brick!’
We rang off, and the officer behind the counter turned right round on the chair to face me. ‘I couldn’t help hearing what you said. You’ll have to tell him… in there.’ He signalled with his head towards the offices inside. ‘Tell Standal.’
‘Naturally. Have the KRIPOS officers come?’
He nodded. ‘Yes, but they went to the crime scene first.’
‘I see. Just tell Standal that I can talk to him when he’s free.’
I walked slowly back to the others. Another surprising development to digest… But before I could say anything a door at the back opened and out they came in single file. Silje and what I assumed were her parents, a woman who must have been her solicitor, a policewoman, Reidar Ruset, Sergeant Standal, two further officers and bringing up the rear, Jens Langeland.
Standal fixed his eyes on me and said: ‘He’s asking to talk to you, Veum. Alone.’
26
Jens Langeland came over to me and we shook hands. ‘Veum… Long time, no see. But I heard about your exploits yesterday. It sounds like you averted a disaster.’
‘Hmm. He must have trusted me for some reason.’
‘It’s not customary for us to let you slip in to see him on your own,’ Standal broke in. ‘But since he insisted with such vehemence, and because of what happened yesterday, we’ll take the risk.’
‘I’ll see what he has to say. May I exchange a couple of words with Langeland in private first?’
Standal eyed me sceptically, and I added: ‘Well, after all, he is his solicitor, isn’t he.’
‘Fine, fine…’
‘I need a bit of background info before I go in.’
Standal nodded, and Langeland and I walked off from the others.
He had kept his characteristic wading-bird-like appearance: tall, lean and slightly stooped. His nose had a pronounced curve. His hair had thinned, with deep inroads, and there were the first signs of silvering around his ears.
I had followed him from a distance. He had had a dazzling career, thus far. The talent I had seen sprouting when he defended Vibecke Skarnes had later blossomed. He achieved his great breakthrough in what was known as the Hilleren case in 1978. After confessing, a man was charged with murdering his neighbour. He indicated where he had dumped the body into the sea, but the body was never found, and Langeland had him acquitted, despite the fact that he maintained his guilt to the very end. Langeland’s final summing up of the case had gone down in court history as a dazzling defence plea using guilt and atonement as central concepts and emphasising the significance of avoiding a possible travesty of justice. After this Langeland was taken to the capital by a large firm of lawyers, and his career as a defence barrister had taken off in earnest. Today he belonged to the highest stratum of defence counsels, among the first to be called in when spectacular cases were mooted anywhere in the country. In this light, the double murder in Angedalen was not at all untypical, with the additional piquant minor detail that ten years earlier he had been the defence counsel for Jan Egil’s foster mother in another but nowhere near as sensational murder case.
‘I just have to ask you, Langeland. Vibecke Skarnes… how did she get on?’
‘I know very little about her, Veum. I managed to trace her this morning to tell her what had happened before she read it in the papers.’
‘You met her?’
‘No, I told her on the phone. She lives in Ski, just outside Oslo.’
‘How long has she been out?’
‘She was released after a year and a half, and since then hasn’t needed any legal help, to my knowledge.’
‘So she didn’t hire you for this case?’
‘No, not at all. I was, of course, Jan Egil’s solicitor even back then. It was quite a complicated case, let me tell you, from a purely legal point of view. Having a conviction did not relieve Vibecke Skarnes of the parental responsibility she had as a foster mother. Nevertheless, she chose not to insist on keeping it, primarily out of consideration for Jan Egil himself. She thought it would be untenable for Jan Egil to be looked after in a foster home
