Hans Lahlum - The Human Flies

‘We had not arranged it, and I certainly did not expect it. I had just come down to the first floor when I bumped into her at the door. We smiled briefly at each other as we passed. It was only when I had opened the door that I realized that she had gone up the stairs, not down. I did not think anything more of it at the time, but obviously it become more significant after the murder and then the reading of the will.’

I held his gaze and hurried to say something before the increasingly red Mrs Lund beat me to it.

‘But you are still not telling us why.’

Kristian Lund’s voice was barely audible, but was clear all the same in the tense silence.

‘Partly because I was such an obvious suspect myself. I had been to his door too. If she said that and claimed that he was dead when she arrived, who would you believe then? I think we both realized what a fateful web we were caught in. So we met as soon as we could for a minute out in the hallway the day after the murder. She had the door ajar when I came home. We agreed not to betray each other, and that was it.’

Then he stopped himself. I coaxed him on.

‘So it was partly because you were scared of your own situation and partly because you still had feelings for her and could not bring yourself to hand over the woman you loved to the police. Is that right?’

He nodded. That was when Mrs Lund slapped her husband across the face in an outburst of fury. Fortunately, the slap seemed to wake him up. The healthy red colour returned to his cheeks; he straightened himself up and was more alert when he looked at me.

‘We have pursued you from pillar to post for nine days now, Kristian Lund. Is there anything else of importance that you still have not told us?’

He shook his head firmly.

‘I have passed the point of no return now and am teetering on the edge. I have nothing more to add other than that I deeply regret what I have done and apologize profusely – to you and even more to my wife.’

I had my doubts about this apology and it looked like his wife did too. He noticed this and immediately added: ‘When you arrest Sara, send her my greetings and tell her that I never want to see her again. I will send my lawyer to talk to her in prison regarding the will.’

I instinctively felt nothing but contempt for Kristian Lund and was about to reply that he could tell her himself when he was serving a sentence for perjury and hampering a murder investigation. However, I realized in time that it was perhaps just as well not to aggravate the situation any more right now. His wife seemed to calm down marginally after this last statement, but she was still one of the most furious young women I had ever seen – which sadly is not saying much. The situation felt more and more depressing. And then in the background I heard a strange sound. I eventually realized that it was Patricia, who was tapping her pen for the fifth time. We found our own way out, without turning round.

Patricia did not hold back. As soon as we were in the lift, she burst out laughing.

‘Thus far you have provided me with good and interesting entertainment. So she could forgive him for lies, blackmail, infidelity and possible murder, but not for loving and protecting another woman. I desperately wanted to stay and see what happened, but we still have a ruthless murderer to catch.’

I nodded, slightly bewildered, and stretched out to press one of the lift buttons.

‘Which floor are we going to this time?’

Patricia smiled.

‘Why, this one, of course. But it is useful to be able to talk for a couple of minutes without being disturbed. We are going to see Sara Sundqvist again, and this time she better have a very good explanation if a remand cell at 19 Møller Street is not to be her next stop. Just confront her with Kristian Lund’s latest version, keep your eye on her and listen to what she has to say. I will intervene if necessary.’

I nodded, but my voice was thick when I asked my short question.

‘She really is on thin ice now, isn’t she?’

Patricia mulled it over for a while before answering.

‘Today, her situation has gone from bad to worse. But the day is not over yet, and I am loath to give up on my main theory. So I am very interested to hear what she has to say in her defence, now that her former lover has pushed her to the edge ahead of him. There really is only one thing she can say now to stop herself from falling – and that has to be the truth.’

I replied that I understood what she meant. This was a pure lie, which I later could only justify to myself by saying that the whole situation had been so confusing.

Sara Sundqvist’s smile was just as friendly as before when she opened her door. I was so impatient to solve the case that I forgot everything that Patricia and I had agreed about positioning and started to talk as soon as we were in the hall.

‘I am deeply disappointed, Sara. You have lied to us again.’

She looked at me uneasily, but clearly did not understand.

‘Kristian Lund has told us that he went up to see Harald Olesen on the evening of the murder and that he saw you on your way up there as he came down. We have every reason to believe that it is the truth.’

An expression of horror flooded her face. Her voice was distant and hesitant when she spoke.

‘I never dreamed that he would dare. Has he really broken his word and betrayed me?’

I nodded gravely, and my frown deepened.

‘He asked me to tell you that he never wants to see you again, that he is looking forward to you being arrested and that he will send his lawyer to meet you in prison to demand the return of his rightful inheritance.’

It was as if Sara Sundqvist’s slim frame had been struck by a triple blow in the boxing ring. She swayed perilously and had to steady herself against the wall. I resisted the urge to reach out and support her.

‘But… I don’t understand! That he wanted to maybe, but that he dared…’

I have to admit that I did not understand it all myself. As Sara Sundqvist was unarmed, unsteady and leaning against the wall, there seemed to be little danger, so I glanced quickly over at Patricia. She looked as though she understood more, but was watching Sara Sundqvist like a hawk.

‘But… it is a relief. Because now I can tell you everything I have wanted to all along!’

I thought it better not to comment on this statement, but indicated impatiently that she should continue. Which she did – and managed to say an impressive amount without drawing breath.

‘It is true that I went to see Harald Olesen that evening. I decided to go up and ask him once again about Deerfoot and my parents. I did not know that Kristian had gone up there already, but realized that he had when I met him on his way down. We just smiled at each other and carried on our separate ways. When I got to Harald Olesen’s flat, he was still alive, but refused to let me in. We argued at the door for a few minutes. He said he was expecting an important guest at any moment, but asked me to come back in the morning. I felt that it was a step forward and left. It was obvious that his health was deteriorating, and he was clearly anxious about his guest. In fact, he was frightened. I remember that it made me feel anxious as well, because he was so secretive and his hand was shaking so badly. But it was not me who killed him. It must have been his mysterious guest, whom I met on the way down.’

Suddenly, Sara Sundqvist seemed to be frightened herself. Her voice trembled when she continued with the story.

‘It was all very alarming. I realized that something was amiss when I saw the man whom Harald Olesen was expecting. His very appearance chilled me and inspired fear and secrecy. He was wearing a blue raincoat with a hood, and had a scarf wrapped round his head so that it was impossible to see his face. I had a strong premonition of catastrophe; it felt like Judgement Day to be honest. I ran down the stairs and buried myself under the duvet with a pillow over my head and hoped for the best. It was no shock when I heard the gunshot, and even less when you came to the door to tell me that he had been killed.’