‘Veum… in fact, I’ve been visiting him regularly. Because it was important that he should have contact with… someone. On a private basis, in other words. But of course I had a finger in the pie when he applied for parole this spring. But that was also the last time I saw him. When he was released, I mean. Some time in May.’
‘In other words, you’re ready to help?’
‘I’m still his solicitor, yes, if that’s what you mean.’
‘Which is what you’ve been all his life.’
‘All?’
‘Yes, you were even his mother’s solicitor, before he was born. I think you yourself told me that on one occasion.’
‘Hmm.’ He sent me a dismissive glare.
‘And you definitely lent a helping hand when he was adopted by Vibecke and Skein Skarnes in 1971, didn’t you.’ I glanced at Vibecke, who was nodding agreement.
‘Yes, but that was because I knew them both — from university, as I mentioned. Well, I knew Vibecke better. And, as you yourself said, I assisted his mother with a… spot of bother.’
‘And were you sure he was going to a good home?’
‘As I said, I knew Vibecke, didn’t I!’
I shifted my attention back to her. Her eyes wandered for a moment. Then they were back, shiny and reserved. ‘Yes?’ she said.
‘Was it a good home?’
‘Veum!’ Again Langeland interrupted us. ‘This is none of your or anyone else’s business. This is water under the bridge! Forget it!’ he turned to her. ‘Don’t reply to everything he asks you!’
He continued, facing me now: ‘I didn’t officially become his solicitor until 1984, when I was called to Forde.’
‘Yes, that’s right… but I believe you’d followed his progress, from a distance at any rate, in the meantime, too.’
‘Because I felt responsible for him, yes. Both to… his real mother, and because of what happened in 1974 with Svein and Vibecke.’
‘We can come back to that but…’
‘Yes?’
‘But let’s concentrate on 1984 first.’
‘What are you actually getting at, Veum?’
I ignored him. ‘As you know, it was a dramatic case, and what emerged about his foster parents, or foster father anyway, Klaus Libakk, was hardly trivial.’
He glanced up, resigned. ‘You’re thinking of these rumours about alcohol smuggling?’
‘Yes, and about the police interest in Terje Hammersten eleven years earlier over another brutal murder. Perhaps set up by Klaus Libakk, or someone else from the same ring.’
‘Another?’
‘Yes, and we found that out at the time. But you didn’t make anything of it at the trial. Why not, Langeland?’
‘You’re thinking of…’ He was sitting upright in the chair now, and I could see he was uncomfortable with the direction the conversation was taking.
‘What are you talking about now?’ Vibecke burst out.
‘You’ve never told her?’ I said.
‘Told me what?’ she asked.
I half-turned to her again. ‘Didn’t you have a clue… didn’t you know that your husband at the time, Svein Skarnes, was one of the main men behind the smuggling racket, mostly in the Sogn and Fjordane district?’
She stared at me in disbelief. ‘What are you talking about? Smuggling?!’
‘Svein Skarnes was the boss. He had contacts in Germany, sorted out the deals with the boats smuggling the goods in, organising the local machinery in Sogn and Fjordane, ably assisted by his office equipment rep, Harald Dale, and he earned big money, of course.’
‘Big money! And what happened to it then? Can you tell me that?’
‘No. But you two were rolling in it, weren’t you.’
‘No more than anyone else. This is completely new to me!’
‘But your husband here, he’s known since 1984.’
She turned on Langeland. ‘Is that right, Jens? Have you known all this without saying a word to me?’
‘I… wanted to spare you, Vibecke. Besides, this was never documented.’
‘Nevertheless…’
‘The whole business was full of uncorroborated claims that…’
Her eyes filled with tears, and her lips were trembling. ‘I just can’t believe it! That you could keep this hidden from me for so many years, Jens! How could you?’
They stared at each other with a distance in their eyes that increased as the seconds passed.
‘There may be more you haven’t told each other,’ I said.
Now they both turned towards me.
‘About things that went on in 1974, for instance.’
I had their undivided attention.
51
‘What are you blathering on about now, Veum?’ Langeland exclaimed with annoyance. ‘Haven’t you caused enough trouble yet?’
‘Trouble! All I’m asking is for people to stop lying. And to stop taking the blame for other people’s misdeeds, however honest it may seem.’
I held her eyes with mine. ‘I assume Langeland took this up with you back in 1984, but nevertheless I feel obliged to remind you of what Jan said when I was talking with him at Forde police station at that time. Of what he remembered from the day Svein Skarnes was murdered.’
Langeland stood up. ‘Veum! I think you should go now!’ I didn’t move. Nor did Vibecke. She raised an arm to her husband and said, in a quivering voice. ‘Don’t… Jens. I want to hear what he has to say.’
Langeland remained on his feet.
I said: ‘He did tell you this when he came back from Forde, didn’t he? To me he even said it was a basis for re-assessing the case. We’re talking about your case now.’
‘Yes, he did, but I said that… that I couldn’t remember… all the details any more. And Jan must have made a mistake.’
‘And that… was perhaps not quite the whole truth?’ I said warily.
She hesitated. Then she said, so quietly that it was barely audible: ‘No, it wasn’t.’
‘What!’ Now it was Langeland’s turn to be amazed. With an incredulous expression in his eyes he fell back in his chair while staring at his wife. ‘But you’ve always…’
‘It was you who insisted that I should confess, Jens. You said I would receive more lenient treatment from the court if we could convince them that it was involuntary manslaughter.’
‘And you did! But, my God, I didn’t expect you to confess if you hadn’t done it!’
She swallowed hard. As she spoke, she was having trouble finding the right words, and what she said came in slow staccato: ‘T-tell me again… what did Jan say?’
‘It’s so long ago now that I can’t remember the precise wording, but the main gist was that he had been alone with his father, well, your husband. The foster father. He was sitting and playing with his train. Then he heard the doorbell ring. Your husband went to open the door and he heard a loud altercation with someone. A man, please note. Then everything went still. Later he went into the hall and… in fact I don’t know whether he found him or that happened when you came home. I don’t recall whether he told me that or not. The main point, however, was this: someone came in, argued with your husband, and left again. Who?’
