Hans Lahlum - The Catalyst Killing

At first I did not really know what to say to this highly unexpected turn of events. So I kept quiet for a few seconds. Behind me, I heard the clock on the wall strike eleven. And then I heard myself say to Kristine Larsen that she was under arrest and would be held on remand, on suspicion of murdering Marie Morgenstierne.

It was by now half past eleven. I sat on my own in my office and thought about the situation.

Kristine Larsen had accepted being taken into custody with unexpected dignity, saying that at least in prison she no longer need fear the faceless murderer as she had every second since the news of Marie Morgenstierne’s death. But she continued to maintain that she was innocent, and that the murderer was still out there somewhere.

She begged me in earnest to continue with the investigation. And with even more urgency, she asked that Falko Reinhardt be informed of where she was, if he was found. She had to see him as soon as he turned up. He would no doubt then be able to corroborate her version of what had happened the evening that Marie Morgenstierne died.

At twenty-five past eleven, I rang Patricia. She picked up the telephone on the second ring. It sounded as though she was stifling a yawn, but she soon perked up when I started by saying: ‘Following some dramatic developments this evening I have now arrested the person I believe to be Marie Morgenstierne’s murderer!’

I waited for some sign of delight, but it never came.

‘Gracious, do tell!’ Patricia said, instead.

Then she listened silently to my brief account of my meeting with Kristine Larsen and her ensuing statement.

‘Very interesting indeed. But who have you arrested as a result?’ she asked, when I had finished.

‘Kristine Larsen, of course,’ I replied.

There was not a sound to be heard on the line for a moment or two. Not a sound.

‘Oh, for goodness’ sake, what have you done now?’ Patricia exclaimed in disbelief.

Something, I realized, was terribly wrong. But the indications that Kristine Larsen was guilty were so clear to me that I was not going to give up without a fight.

‘The case is of course not solved yet, in terms of all the details. But even so, you cannot deny that Kristine Larsen had both the motive and the opportunity to shoot Marie Morgenstierne.’

This gave about two seconds’ respite. Then Patricia’s voice slammed back into my ear like the recoil from a gun.

‘Absolutely. Kristine Larsen could have shot Marie Morgenstierne. But why on earth would the sight of Kristine Larsen have caused Marie Morgenstierne suddenly to panic and run for her life? Have you thought about that?’

I had not given that side of the matter any thought at all. And now that I was forced to think about it, I found no good answer.

The memory of the terrified Marie Morgenstierne hammering on the train doors in desperation popped up in my mind. Kristine Larsen’s harmless appearance could not possibly have made Marie Morgenstierne run for her life. Particularly not when she had in fact left the meeting with Kristine Larsen, had turned down the offer of a lift, and then walked slowly and calmly towards the station.

Either something inexplicable had happened in the meantime that alerted Marie Morgenstierne to the fact that Kristine Larsen was now going to shoot her – or it was, quite simply, not Kristine Larsen from whom Marie Morgenstierne was fleeing.

The floor was heaving beneath my feet when I asked Patricia if she had any plans for Sunday. She replied that she had no plans that could not be changed, and that I was very welcome to come for lunch around midday if that suited. Then she added that I should bring with me any fingerprints that had been found, and anything else of interest that I might discover in the meantime.

I promised to do so. Then I put down the receiver and sank back into my chair.

Kristine Larsen remained on remand. There were still reasonable grounds to suspect her, but it was with a heavy heart that I went out into the dark just before midnight.

I kept my eyes peeled as I walked the short distance to my car – and thus realized that I obviously still assumed that the person who had shot Marie Morgenstierne three days ago was out there somewhere, in the dark. And that I still had no idea who it was.

I continued to ponder who it was who had shot Marie Morgenstierne as I drove home and got ready for bed, and until I eventually fell asleep. In the minutes immediately before I slept, I was able to relax a little when I recalled Miriam Filtvedt Bentsen’s calm face and mischievous smile. But after all the evening’s drama, it was still Kristine Larsen’s terrified eyes that stared at me and followed me into my dreams.

Sunday, 9 August 1970 was certainly not one of the quietest Sundays of my life. The dramatic events of the previous day continued to rattle around my head as I slept. I was out of bed before eight, and in the office by a quarter to nine.

My long run in pursuit of Kristine Larsen at Smestad the evening before had been, not unexpectedly, registered and reported. Three newspapers and nine private individuals from Smestad had already called the switchboard at the main police station to ask if it was true that a young woman from Smestad had been arrested in the case.

I, for my part, had already started to regret my action, and wanted it to receive as little attention as possible. So I issued instructions to say that a person had been taken in for questioning the evening before, but that no formal charge had as yet been made and that it was not possible to give any more details in light of the ongoing investigation.

The arrestee proved to be remarkably calm and composed despite a restless night’s sleep. Kristine Larsen had nothing to add or withdraw from the statement she had given the night before. In her dreams she had three times fled from the faceless murderer, she told me. She still insisted that she had done nothing wrong. But given how unsafe life now felt outside the prison walls, she would be quite happy to stay here for a few days more.

With an apologetic smile, she repeated her hope that I would soon find out who had murdered Marie Morgenstierne and that I would tell Falko of her whereabouts as soon as I found him. I promised to do this. The conversation ended on almost a friendly note. When I said that it might be necessary to do a house search, she pointed out the front door key on her confiscated key ring without hesitation. Kristine Larsen did not want a lawyer, but did ask if she could telephone her mother to explain the situation.

Her parents would no doubt be worried if they had heard about her panicked reaction yesterday, she remarked, especially if they been unable to get hold of her today.

As she sat there in front of me, it struck me that Kristine Larsen was a very considerate and unthreatening person. But I still felt far from sure that she was not the murderer. I recalled her much harder voice in the recording from Marie Morgenstierne’s last meeting, and the incredible will and energy she had demonstrated in her flight the day before. The motive was obvious, and the fact that she had sent a written threat to the victim still remained.

Following a brief summary of developments over the telephone, my boss agreed that there were still reasonable grounds for suspicion and remand, but that we should perhaps wait to issue a charge. He would talk to the public prosecutor’s office straight away. We no doubt thought the same thing as we put down the receiver. In other words, that holding a young woman on remand, whether she was guilty or not, would increase the pressure to solve the case.