Hans Lahlum: The Catalyst Killing

He had come primarily to ‘sympathize’ with me about being given sole responsibility for the murder of Marie Morgenstierne, which would no doubt be a very demanding case. Danielsen also wanted to make sure that I knew about the possible connection to Falko Reinhardt’s disappearance, as he himself had led that investigation. I was as friendly as could be, thanked him and assured him that I would be in touch should any relevant questions crop up. However, I had already had the pleasure of reading his written report, which was so informative and detailed that I had everything I needed for the present. He smiled and thanked me and told me that the door to his office was always open, should I need any assistance.

He then added, with the falsest smile, that some potentially good news had just come in. A witness had come forward who had been walking behind Marie Morgenstierne on the way to the station the evening before.

I asked jokingly why he had not brought the witness in with him straight away. He replied that unfortunately there were certain practical problems in connection with the witness, and it would therefore perhaps be best if I came out and met her myself.

I smelt a rat, and asked if the witness was under the influence or indisposed for any other reason. Danielsen cheerily shook his head and said that the witness was a sober and undoubtedly reliable person, but was still, to put it politely, ‘problematic as an eyewitness’. It would perhaps be best if I went out to the reception area to meet her myself. He could scarcely hide the smile that tugged at the corners of his mouth when he said this.

I understood that something was not right, but did not yet know what. So I followed him out to reception.

The first thing that took me by surprise was the faint sound of a dog whining. But I understood the problem as soon as I saw the dog, and its owner.

She was a rather attractive redhead and she was waiting patiently on a chair, with a white stick in her hands. Her eyes stared blankly at me when she took off her dark glasses.

I immediately led the witness and her dog into my office. Her name was Aase Johansen, she was twenty-five years old and lived with her parents in her childhood home in Smestad. She had tried to find a course at the university that was suitable for blind students and that interested her, but without any luck. She now therefore spent the greater part of her day listening to the radio and reading. The evening before, she had been on her way to meet a friend with her dog and had been heading in the direction of the station. And even though she had not been able to see what happened, she had heard enough to think she should report to the police, when the request for witnesses to come forward was announced on the radio.

I immediately thanked her for coming and said that it was indeed the right thing to do. I asked her to recall as well as she could what she had heard, and to tell me in as much detail as possible anything she thought might be of interest.

Aase Johansen took this task very seriously. She started by pointing out that she could of course not be one hundred per cent certain, but that she was at least ninety per cent sure that it was Marie Morgenstierne who had been walking in front of her yesterday evening. She knew the road very well, and she was just past the lamppost that was a couple of hundred yards from the station. So the timing fitted, as she had arrived at her friend’s flat, which was only a hundred yards or so from there, at around a quarter past ten. Aase Johansen had reacted immediately when a woman who was walking at a steady, relaxed pace about ten yards in front suddenly broke into a run. And they were the fastest steps the blind woman could ever recall having heard on the streets of Oslo. In addition, she had heard someone on the road call out ‘Marie!’ But the woman who must have been Marie Morgenstierne did not slow down – if anything, she ran faster.

All in all, it had been strange enough for her to feel it was the right thing to come here, my blind witness said in a slightly anxious voice. I nodded reassuringly, then realized that that was not of much help, so put my hand gently on her arm. Then I asked if she had heard any other people on the road.

Aase Johansen nodded eagerly. She had not heard anyone ahead of Marie Morgenstierne on the road, but she had heard two different sets of footsteps between herself and Marie. The first belonged to a man with a walking stick. Our blind witness had automatically assumed that it was an older man, but added that his breathing did not appear to be laboured and he walked at a steady pace. It had sounded as though this man with a stick had carried on walking at the same steady pace even after Marie Morgenstierne had started to run. Behind him, and just in front of the blind woman, were the steps of another younger person, in all likelihood a woman. These steps had at first picked up speed and then stopped completely in the wake of Marie Morgenstierne’s sudden flight.

The blind witness said that she could not be certain what happened in this confusion, as the footsteps then became indistinct, but also because she was at this point almost pushed over by a person with a suitcase who tried to get past her from behind. She was fairly certain that the person with the suitcase was a man, given the short and violent outburst when he bumped into her. However, she would not dare to guess his age. It sounded as though the man with the suitcase also picked up speed along with Marie Morgenstierne, but then stopped. At this point, the soundscape was so confused that the witness was not at all sure about the situation. The person who shouted ‘Marie!’ did sound like a woman, but it was so quick, and there was so much other noise.

Aase Johansen had never regretted being blind as much as she did now, she said. Her whole adult life she had hoped that one day she might do something useful for society, even though she could not see. And now she had unexpectedly been given a chance, but could not be of any real help because she was blind. It was terribly disappointing that she had been present minutes before a serious crime and could perhaps have been able to explain what had happened if she had only been able to see. A couple of tears trickled down beneath her dark glasses when she said this.

I patted her reassuringly on the shoulder and said that she had done more than anyone could expect, and had given information that might prove to be decisive. She beamed and asked if that really was true, then added that I must not hesitate to call her should I have any more questions. However, here and now, she could not think of anything else that might be of importance.

I thought for a moment or two without coming up with any questions, so I asked if she and her dog could wait out in the hall for a few minutes. She nodded happily and replied that she would be willing to wait for a few hours if there was the slightest chance that she could be of any help to me and the investigation.

I guided her out of the room, and closed the door. Then, for the first time in this investigation, I dialled Patricia’s number from my office. I had a strong feeling that she would be able to think of some questions that I had failed to ask the witness.

As I suspected, Patricia was sitting at the ready. She picked up the phone after the first ring and listened with almost devout concentration to my summary of the blind witness’s account. Not unexpectedly, her response was quick when I asked if there was anything she would like me to ask the witness.

‘I have two simple but very important questions for your ear-witness. First of all, did she hear the sound of the train when Marie Morgenstierne broke into a run? And second, did the person shout Marie’s name just before, just after or at exactly the same time as Marie Morgenstierne started to run?’