grasps a branch before he is inexorably dragged down by the current. ‘Help me, Varg! You have to help me!’ There were tears in his eyes. ‘It wasn’t me! Not this time, either…’
I patted his hand with the one I had free.
‘I promise, Jan Egil! I’ll do everything that’s in my power. If you’re lucky, something will turn up that can underpin what you’ve told me. Forensic evidence, a witness’s statement, whatever. One thing you can be absolutely sure of, Jan Egil. We’ll help you as much as we can, all of us.’
His eyes implored me. ‘You have to help me! You do!’
‘Yes, of course.’ I felt almost ashamed at the trust he was showing me. ‘I will help you, Jan Egil. I will, too. As much as I can.’
I didn’t dare promise him any more. I was frightened it was too much already. But I felt a strong urge to have a detailed conversation with Jen Langeland; and not only about the double murder in Angedalen but perhaps just as much about the accident in Wergelandsasen ten years before…
Gradually he let go of my arm. Then he withdrew his hand. But his eyes were still locked on mine, intense and pleading.
For a moment we sat like that. Then I nodded, got up, made a gesture with my hand and walked towards the door. Before opening it, I turned back to him. ‘Bye for now…’
He didn’t answer. And he was no longer looking at me, but down at the table.
I quietly opened the door and left.
28
The constable on duty outside got up off his chair as I was leaving, nodded briefly and went in to Jan Egil. I heard him say something before closing the door behind him. Straight afterwards he opened it again and shouted down the corridor. ‘He’s hungry! Can anyone go and get a pizza and a Coke?’
Standal came into the corridor, nodded, then passed on the order to one of the other officers.
Jens Langeland and the person I presumed was Silje’s solicitor were sitting at the coffee table in the corner of the waiting area. Both stood up as I came out, and all three looked at me with an expression of anticipation.
I was introduced to Langeland’s colleague, a woman with cropped dark hair, small and sprightly, almost a bit French in style, wearing a short grey skirt and a tight black top. She was from Trondheim. ‘Oygunn Bratet,’ she said with a little smile. ‘I’m Silje’s solicitor.’
‘Yes, so I gathered. Varg Veum, private investigator.’
Standal sniffed behind me, and I turned to face him again.
‘Well, Veum. What did he want?’
‘To be quite frank, I’m not entirely sure. But I think I’m going to have to disappoint you. I didn’t get a confession. More the opposite.’
‘In other words, he served you up the same pack of lies we had?’
Langeland reacted instantaneously. ‘I reject such leading comments, sergeant! So far the police have not adduced one single piece of evidence, and another person has confessed to the misdeed.’
‘A confession not one of us believes, please note!’ Oygunn Bratet said sharply.
‘Absolutely!’ Standal concurred. ‘We have questioned the young lady, you see… Silje Tveiten. And we were not very impressed, Langeland. To put it mildly. When we asked how she dealt with the gun, her descriptions became somewhat vague. She had no idea how she had released the safety catch, nor loaded the gun. If you ask me, the girl has never had a rifle in her hands.’
‘And you’re sure the old Mauser is the murder weapon?’ asked Langeland.
‘The pathologist’s and the forensic examinations will make that clear very quickly. But I would be very surprised if it wasn’t.’
‘The only thing you know for certain thus far is that this was the weapon Jan Egil took with him when he ran off.’
‘Yes, exactly. Ran off! And why did he do that, if I may ask, if he was so innocent, as you wish to claim?’
‘He’s had a traumatic childhood,’ I interceded. ‘As I explained to you earlier today.’
‘Yes, yes, yes. We’ve noted that, Veum, but…’
‘Besides, Grethe Mellingen told me something I didn’t know. About Silje and the murder of her father in 1973.’
Langeland nodded in confirmation. ‘Yes, my colleague has just informed me about that. A very important piece of information, I have to say.’
The sergeant glared at him. ‘In what way, if I might ask? She was no more than five years old when that happened.’
‘Nonetheless…’ Langeland assumed a didactic tone, as if he were already well into his courtroom procedure. ‘We are dealing here with a double murder. We have a brutal murder in 1973. We have a suspicious death in 1974. Both children are implicated.’
‘And Terje Hammersten,’ I added.
Standal looked as if he would explode. ‘Terje Hammersten! Who the bloody hell is that?’
‘I understand the police up here were interested in him in 1973. Isn’t that correct?’
‘I wasn’t here in 1973, but I will, of course, dig up the files.’
‘So you haven’t done that yet then?’ Langeland commented caustically.
‘We have other business to take care of!’ the sergeant barked.
‘And in 1974 he was still living with Jan Egil’s biological mother, Mette Olsen.’
Standal stared at me. ‘In 1974!’
‘Yes, his foster father was killed.’
‘But that case was solved, Veum,’ said Langeland sharply. ‘There are no loose ends.’
I met his gaze. ‘Are you sure? Now in fact I have some new information about what happened at that time. From Jan himself! Maybe Vibecke Skarnes should not have been found guilty at the time.’
Langeland blanched. ‘I beg your pardon. What did he…?’
I sent him a knowing look. ‘Let’s come back to that later.’
‘Yes, we certainly aren’t interested in cases solved years ago,’ Standal said.
Langeland eyed me pensively before nodding in silence and wagging his index finger: We have a deal.
I shifted my attention to Oygunn Bratet. ‘Where’s she now, Silje… and her foster parents?’
‘They’ve gone home.’
‘Home!’ I turned to Standal again. ‘You’ve let her go free today, too?’
He looked at me with unease. ‘So young she is… After consultation with her solicitor and fru Mellingen, and because we have no confidence in her statement, we have let her go home. But there is a policewoman with her, and we expect Silje to come in whenever we need her.’
‘Strikingly different treatment!’ Langeland commented. ‘Or were you thinking of letting Jan Egil out, too?’
‘He doesn’t have any home to return to now,’ Standal said coldly. ‘Besides he’s still our main suspect, and if you don’t mind, herr advokat, I would suggest we see him now and continue the interview.’
Langeland sighed. ‘Yes, let’s do that. We can talk later, Veum. You’re staying at the Sunnfjord, aren’t you?’
‘Yes, just get in touch when you’re back.’
Langeland nodded. Standal clocked me with an expression of hope that he would never see me again. They went back to Jan Egil.
Oygunn Bratet and I stood back, a little perplexed, like two castaways on a reef after the storm has passed. Then she shrugged and went over to a hat stand to get her outdoor clothing, a natty little cape the same length as her skirt.
‘I’ll have to get back to my office,’ she said. ‘We’re going to be busy in the coming period. But we’ll see each
