We Shall Inherit the Wind (13 page)

‘And what use would it be? Do you think they would be interested?’

I made a vague gesture with my hands. ‘If it’s relevant to the other case, they …’

‘The Mons Mæland case, you mean?’

I nodded.

‘I’ll chew on it.’

‘If you don’t report it, I might. He threatened me as well.’

Svenson eyed me, undecided. ‘OK. You can do what you like.’  

‘One last question, Svenson. Who do you think would have wanted to kill Mæland?’

‘It’d be better to ask me who didn’t have a reason to kill him.’

‘Give me a clue. I never met him.’

‘I’ve said what I’m going to say to the cops. They’re investigating the case, aren’t they?’

‘Yes.’

‘Face the facts, Veum. You’re fighting against the wind turbines, too. As long as you’re employed by TWO, anyway.’

‘Svenson, they’re
for
the wind farm, in case you haven’t sussed it yet.’

He sent me a look that was an appropriate mixture of disdain and contempt. And, yes, maybe he was right. But I didn’t need his sort to tell me so.

Before getting into the car, I rang Hamre. Surprisingly, he came through in no time. I told him what had happened, about the assault on Svenson and the threats Tangenes had made, both to me and to ‘my girlfriend’.

‘Come on now, Veum,’ Hamre barked. ‘Don’t tell me you’re investigating this case!’

‘No, no. I’ve been hired to investigate the 1988 land sale contract, if you remember that?’

‘I see. All right. Sounds harmless enough, but you keep your paws off the murder case.’

‘Back to Tangenes.’

‘Yes, I made a mental note. We’ll send some patrol cars round a bit more often, in Fløenbakken and up at your place. Ring us if he turns up, Veum. Don’t take the law into your own hands. You’ve never been much good at keeping off limits.’

‘No?’

‘No.’

I felt far from reassured. I immediately rang Karin at work. It was a while before she answered. ‘Yes? Varg? I’m busy right now. Can you ring back later?’

‘Yes. But don’t leave the office until you’ve spoken to me. OK?’  

‘OK.’

We rang off. I opened the car door and got in behind the wheel. Frightened, Veum? Yes. But not for myself. If anything happened to Karin, however …

I started up and drove towards town, slightly above the speed limit, but I was busy and if I was stopped and waved into the side I would have to pass on my regards to Hamre. That might help. It might not.

I left my car in the multi-storey car park in Markeveien, went down to my office, booted up the computer and started searching for the telephone numbers I didn’t have. While I was at it I went into the Kvasir search engine and hunted for interesting names. Mons Mæland came up hundreds of times, Jarle Glosvik closer to thousands of times. I found a nice portrait photo of Stine Sagvåg, while Bjørn Brekkhus only featured in a few newspaper articles from the time when he was still Chief of Police. Ole Rørdal was high on the list, whereas Stein Svenson had only a few entries. Kristoffer had nowhere near as many mentions as his father, Else only a few and I couldn’t find Ranveig anywhere. Neither Lars nor Kristine Rørdal produced anything of interest.

Finally I searched for Gunvor Matre. The sole entry for her was a brief address: 5970 Byrknesøy. There was ample evidence to suggest I should make another trip to Lindås and Gulen.

I sat staring into the distance, musing. Again I was haunted by the image of Mons Mæland hanging from the cross. There was something so graphic and brutal about this act that I was reminded of far more extreme action groups than those we were used to in Norway, with the exception of the neo-Nazis, and the remnants of that movement had never been interested in environmental politics, from my observation.

Religious fanatics had taken recourse to robust methods when the fight against the abortion law was at its peak, but, to the best of my memory, there had been no crucifixion. Lars Rørdal had been committed enough in his condemnation of the wind farm project, but I couldn’t imagine he would ever go as far as stringing up one of his main adversaries. In addition, his consternation at the discovery of the body had seemed genuine enough.  

Mons Mæland had been undergoing a change of heart, but those who were fighting
for
the wind farm wouldn’t have gone to such extremes, either. Even a man like Trond Tangenes would have used far more subtle methods. A drowning accident, a hit and run, that kind of malarkey.

Could the motive lie somewhere else entirely? Someone settling one of life’s outstanding debts?

I tried another name in the search box.
Lea Mæland
. But the result was negative. Not a single entry. She was definitively dead and buried, in Kvasir and everywhere else.

I would have liked to know what progress the police had made in their inquiries. The only person I could ring there was Atle Helleve, but I felt fairly sure that not even he would be very talkative at this stage.

I established the facts of the case. Mons Mæland had disappeared from his cabin on Radøy late Saturday night. On Sunday his boat was found drifting in the Radsund. On Monday I was given an assignment to track him down. On Wednesday we all found him, with Lars Rørdal as the first on the crime scene.

But how long had he been dead, and who had hung him on the cross? Was it one person or could there have been more?

Also, who had knocked Stein Svenson unconscious and tied him up? My main suspect was still Trond Tangenes, but could it have been someone else? And could he or someone else have hung Mons Mæland on the cross, if so? Was there any connection between these two events at all? Were there any other motives other than the dispute about the wind farm?

Could what happened when the land was sold – perhaps unlawfully – to Mæland in 1988 have been motive enough? In which case it would have to be Stein Svenson. But how did that explain the fact that it was him who had been assaulted and rendered
hors de combat
roughly at the same time?

So,
when
was Mons Mæland hung up on the cross? Wednesday morning? The night before? If the body was transported there, was it by boat, or some other way? Boat was the most likely option; it would
have been far more difficult over land. But, of course, the police were checking this now, and they certainly would not answer any of the questions I might like to ask.

It was almost three o’clock when I rang Karin again.

‘Oh, hiya,’ she said, somewhat absent-mindedly.

‘Can you speak now?’

‘Yes, yes. No problem.’

‘How is she?’

‘She was pale but composed when I left her this morning. Kristoffer rang last night, and they agreed to have a kind of family council this evening. They have to plan the funeral of course.’

‘It will probably take some time before forensics has finished with him.’

‘Yes, I’m sure it will. But there must be other things they would like to discuss as well.’

‘My understanding was that she wasn’t exactly looking forward to it. You didn’t …? She didn’t confide in you at all after I’d gone?’

‘No, Varg, she didn’t. We sat chatting, but … Nothing that would interest you anyway, I can assure you. And after Kristoffer rang she had all that on her mind.’

‘Hm. Are you meeting her today?’

‘No, but I told her she only had to ring if there was anything. What about you? Are you busy?’

‘Not today. But it looks like I might have to go to Gulen again tomorrow.’ I told her about the assignment I had been given by Stine Sagvåg.

‘Are you going to come up and see me?’

‘Love to. My car’s in Markeveien. We can meet there when you’ve finished.’

We arranged to meet and I clicked off. Then I rang Bjørn Brekkhus’ mobile number. The only answer I got was a voicemail saying his phone was switched off or he was in an area without coverage.

When I rang his home number a woman answered. ‘Hello?’

‘Hello, I’d like to talk to Bjørn Brekkhus.’

‘OK. Who’s that?’ I tried to place her dialect, but all I knew for certain was that she was from Eastern Norway.  

‘My name’s Veum.’

‘I’m afraid he isn’t at home.’

‘I’ve tried his mobile phone.’

‘He often forgets to switch it on. The coverage where he is, is poor, too.’

‘Where is he?’

‘At sea, as usual. Can I ask him to ring you when he gets home?’

‘Yes, please do. We met on Monday, so he knows who I am and what this is about.’

‘Veum, wasn’t it?’

‘Yes.’ I gave her my telephone number.

‘Got it.’

‘Thank you.’

I met Karin outside the multi-storey car park in Markeveien. As we drove to Fløenbakken I kept an eye open to check we weren’t being followed, but I couldn’t see anyone. After parking outside her block I told her to wait while I opened the door. I got out and scanned the area. Then I beckoned to her.

She looked at me with a worried expression. ‘What is it, Varg? You seem so tense.’

‘I don’t want to worry you unduly, but … Let’s go in first.’

Upstairs in her flat, I told her about Trond Tangenes and the threats he had made. Finally I gave her a detailed description of his appearance. ‘If anyone rings at the door, don’t open up unless you’re sure you know who it is. And if you see someone vaguely resembling him, look for somewhere safe as soon as possible, talk to other people around you and ring me – or maybe just as good, the police. Hamre knows.’

She stared at me with big eyes and a grimace. ‘I hope this isn’t going to last long, Varg.’

‘No, no,’ I said, trying to make my tone lighter than I felt. ‘In all probability they’re just empty threats. His main aim was to do exactly this. To make us feel unsafe.’ I patted her on the shoulder. ‘It’ll pass, sooner than you imagine.’

‘Well …’ She smiled, apparently confident. Then she shrugged and
went to the kitchen. ‘But we should have something to eat, shouldn’t we?’

It could have been the perfect evening at home. Karin made a bowl of pasta and chopped up lettuce while I read the newspaper in greater detail than I’d had time to do in my office. After we had eaten we lay half-asleep on a sofa each until it felt to me that it was time to make coffee. We watched the news, first of all on TV2, then on NRK, but apart from some spectacular pictures of the cross on Brennøy the reports contained no more information than we already had.

She sat down close to me on the sofa. Then she looked up at me out of the corners of her eyes. ‘Perhaps we should start planning?’

I put my hand behind her neck and gently caressed her. ‘You’re thinking about the wedding, are you?’

‘Mm.’ She smiled. ‘And the honeymoon.’

‘Well, we could kill two birds with one stone.’

‘Meaning …?’

‘Well, Thomas and Maria are in Italy at the moment, and we don’t have much family here, so …’

Her smile broadened. ‘How romantic, Varg! An Italian honeymoon!’

‘Yes, why not? In Venice maybe.’

‘Now you’re surpassing yourself. But I’m up for it. Bring it on!’

‘And then we’ll have to work out where to live. We won’t need two flats any more.’

‘No, something bigger maybe?’

‘Maybe?’

She stretched up and kissed me. ‘If only you knew how happy I am that we’ve got this far, Varg.’

‘Me, too,’ I mumbled to her lips.

It was almost nine when the phone rang. Karin lifted up the receiver and even from five metres away I could hear the shrill voice.

‘Ranveig? What? Yes, I can hear you.’ She looked at me and rolled her eyes. ‘I see … Yes … Yes … Is it alright if I bring Varg along?’ She arched her eyebrows in my direction, and I nodded. ‘OK, we’ll do that. Take it easy. We’ll talk soon. Yes, yes. … Bye.’

She put the phone down. ‘Yes, you guessed. She was hysterical. Obviously things didn’t go so well with Kristoffer and Else.’

‘No. Was she OK with me coming along?’

‘Yes.’

‘Shall we take the car?’

‘That’s perhaps the safest, in case we have to drive her somewhere.’

‘A&E do you mean?’

‘Yes.’

Five minutes later we were in the car covering the short distance to Storhaugen.

This time I drove right up to the house. I let Karin out before parking close to the fence that surrounded the property and getting out on my side. When we went to the front door we rang, but no one answered.

I grabbed the handle, pressed it down and pushed the door. It wasn’t locked. We looked at each other. In my book, this was not a good sign.

I opened the door completely. ‘Ranveig?’ No answer.

Karin said: ‘Oh, my God, Varg!’

‘Let’s go in.’

There was no one in the hall. I called: ‘Ranveig!’

Still no answer.

I opened the door to the sitting room. She was lying on the floor by one of the windows with her mobile phone beside her, as if in a deep sleep. She was pale, and her breathing was coming in short, irregular wheezes.

I dashed over, bent down, held her left arm and felt her pulse. Karin followed, crouched down and placed a hand carefully against her cheek.

She blinked and looked up. ‘Karin? What happened?’

‘That was what
we
were wondering.’

‘I must have fainted.’

I scrutinised her face. ‘There was no one else here, was there?’

‘No, I …’ She had difficulty focussing. ‘I rang Karin and then … That’s the last I can remember.’

‘Pulse seems normal,’ I muttered to Karin.

‘Can I have something to drink?’

‘I’ll get some water,’ Karin said, getting up and going through the dining room to the kitchen.  

‘You haven’t eaten something that disagreed with you, have you?’ I asked tentatively.

She gazed at me bleary-eyed. ‘Disagreed? What do you mean?’

‘Well … Come on, let me help you up.’

With a strong grip around her waist I lifted her to her feet and supported her through to the big sofa. She slumped down, straightened her blouse and brushed off some invisible specks of dust from her tight, black trousers.

Karin came in from the kitchen with a full jug of water and three glasses. She put everything down on the black coffee table, quickly poured water for Ranveig and passed her the glass.

She gratefully took it and drank greedily. Then she took a deep breath and looked at us almost guiltily. ‘Sorry …’

‘No reason to be sorry for anything,’ Karin said. ‘The main thing is you’re better.’

‘Yes … I … It just got too much for me.’

The room went silent. The only sound to be heard was the jug against a glass as Karin poured herself some water and then me. Karin sat down beside her friend, wrapped a protective arm around her and sent me a concerned frown.

‘Have you got a regular doctor?’ I asked.

‘No, no! … I mean yes, of course, I have. But please don’t phone anyone. This was just an accident. I hardly slept last night. There’s so much going on, and this evening … Else and Kristoffer. It was just awful.’

‘Else and Kristoffer …?’

‘Kristoffer phoned and asked if they could pop up. I was happy and said yes, of course. Had I known, though, I would have asked a solicitor to be present.’

‘You’ve talked about the inheritance already?’

‘That was how it started. Kristoffer said … with everything that’s at stake on Brennøy … he wanted me to confirm that I would support the sale of the land to Norcraft, and that had to happen now, so there would be no further delays.’

‘But I mentioned yesterday … Hasn’t he understood that the sale in 1988 is being contested?’

‘I told him, but he turned a deaf ear. Anyway, I had no say, he said.’

‘No say?’

With a trembling hand she grasped the jug, poured herself another glass and drank, then wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. ‘I hadn’t deserved it, he said. It was my fault their mother disappeared, took her own life, he said, then he bored his eyes into me and said … if not worse.’

‘If not worse?’

‘Yes! That we had taken her life!’

‘You and Mons? Did he say that to your face?’

‘Yes. Because we’d found each other. Because we …’ She threw her hands in the air. ‘I mean … What I mean to say is … That we’d driven her to her death.’ Then there was silence.

Karin and I exchanged looks. She warned me off, but I couldn’t pass up the opportunity. ‘What you’re saying,’ I said softly and in as gentle a tone as I could muster, ‘… is that you and Mons had started a relationship before Lea disappeared. Is that what you’re telling us?’

She looked up into my face. ‘Yes, that was how it was, but … The way he said it, the way he hurled these accusations into my face … Lea’s disappearance was a terrible tragedy. It hung over Mons and me for all the subsequent years, and we never managed to free ourselves from the feeling of guilt. In many ways it destroyed what … what we had. To forget it we fled into another lifestyle … travelling a lot, spending money, yes … living! As though we had to live extra hard to justify to ourselves what we’d done. Do you understand?’

Karin followed this monologue with her big, blue eyes. It came as no surprise to me. This was what I had felt the previous evening: that there was something Ranveig was holding back, something she wouldn’t say.

I nodded. ‘I understand. And you still can’t tell us anything about what happened to Lea?’

‘No, Varg! You have to believe me. I know nothing. But you should know: She was a very complicated personality. Having children had a
terrible effect on her. After both births she suffered deep depression, and the last time – when Else was born – things were so serious she had to be admitted to hospital. They feared she would do something to harm the child.’

‘That serious?’

‘Yes, that serious, Varg!’

‘But she never did?’

‘No, no. The doctors got her back on an even keel, but … I don’t know. Mons said she never really got on with them. With the children, I mean. Neither Kristoffer nor Else. So he had to look after them, read to them, put them to bed and so on.’

‘Hm.’

‘But of course we always talked about it, Mons and I did. About what must have happened. That she had decided to end it all when she heard about us two.’

‘How did she find out?’

She swallowed. ‘Mons was going to take care of that. He told her the same day she … went missing.’

‘And later he pocketed her life insurance money …’

Loud intake of breath. ‘If you mean that … He could never have done anything like that! I know that for certain. He would never have stood the pressure.’

‘Sure?’

‘Absolutely sure.’

‘But Kristoffer accused you …’

‘He accused us both! Of driving his mother to her death. But he can’t …’ – her voice cracked – ‘… have a confrontation with his father any more!’

‘No.’

I stood waiting for her to recover. ‘What did Else say? She was here too, wasn’t she?’

‘Else!’ She raised her hands to her face and made two circles with her fingers in front of her eyes. ‘She just sat staring, without saying a word. Not one word! And when he left she just got up and followed him.’  

‘Mm … He just left?’

‘After spewing up everything he had inside him he banged the table, got up and said: “You’ll receive a document in the post! If you don’t sign I’ll see you in court. Just you try it,” he said. And brandished a fist at me.’

‘Did you perceive that as a threat?’

‘Yes, he was threatening me. That was exactly what he was doing.’

I tried to bring all the various threads together. ‘But you don’t think he could have … what happened to his father …’

Ranveig’s expression was grim. ‘I wish I couldn’t believe it possible, but when I saw him this evening … He’s capable of anything!’

‘Erm …’ I hesitated. ‘Surely not, with all the people he has to convince around him. Do you think that sounds likely?’

She shrugged. ‘No idea.’

‘I certainly think you should tell the police about this.’

‘The police?’

‘Yes, unfortunately
I
can’t do anything as far as this is concerned. I’ve been assigned to investigate the land sale in 1988, but this … It’s way beyond my remit. If I became involved I would only have the police on my back again.’

‘Again?’

‘Yes. It wouldn’t exactly be the first time. Let me put it like that.’

‘But …’

Our eyes met, and I shook my head. ‘No, I’m sorry. But if – I repeat
if
–something relevant to the case should appear I would, of course, take it up immediately – with the relevant party.’

She nodded, but I wasn’t sure the message had got through.

Again a silence fell over the room. I shifted my gaze to the big painting, a classic Norwegian mountain landscape with autumnal colours and the sharp contours of a photograph. It looked so quiet and peaceful, far from all the mobile telephones and at a safe distance from everything that smacked of inheritance disputes.

Karin put her arm around Ranveig again. ‘Would you like …? Shall I spend the night here again?’  

Ranveig was visibly grateful. ‘Would you?’

‘Naturally. It’s good to be able to help.’

I couldn’t exactly suggest staying as well, so with that the perfect evening at home had gone up in smoke, and the following night as well.

Karin accompanied me out, a reprise of the previous evening. ‘I’m sorry, Varg, but I had to offer.’

‘Absolutely. I spend most of my nights alone anyway, so …’ I pouted my disappointment.

‘Not for long,’ she said with a smile, leaned forward and kissed me. ‘You’ve earned a bonus – next time.’

‘A bonus? What might that be?’

‘I’m not going to give it away, am I!’

‘The trick worked. I feel better already.’

‘Till next time then …’ Another kiss before she gradually let go of me, a lingering reluctance, which made me feel even better.

‘Remember: Don’t forget to keep your eyes peeled as you set off for work tomorrow morning.’

‘I won’t. I haven’t forgotten.’ Her expression was serious as she closed the door, and I waited on the step until I heard she had locked up properly.

I went to my car, got behind the wheel and drove home. I had made up my mind now. I knew where I was going the next day.