Jens Amundsen - Death on Pilot Hill

“That’s not what your husband says.” Sohlberg studied her reaction to his fourth trap — creating conflict between the spouses. “He says that you forced Karl to abandon his project on icebergs. The little boy loved icebergs and he wanted to report on them at the science fair. But you did not let him. Why would you do that Fru Haugen?”

Agnes Haugen sat poker-faced and said nothing to the seemingly trivial question that had been increasingly bothering Sohlberg for reasons that he could not describe.

“So Fru Haugen. . please tell me. . why did Karl switch his science exhibit from icebergs to red-eye tree frogs?”

Silence. He was impressed by her cunning intelligence. She had walked away from the fourth trap as quickly and cleverly as she had walked away from all his other traps. Sohlberg felt embarrassed at how easily she was defeating him. He decided to confront her with the evidence.

“Fru Haugen. . please read the timeline that Constable Wangelin is handing you. It details on a minute-by-minute basis your whereabouts that Friday June fourth. Take your time reading it. Let me know if anything is wrong with the information. If you don’t point out any errors then we will assume it’s correct.”

After ten minutes Agnes Haugen said, “It seems to be right.”

“Good. Now if you will please look at the time when you say you left Karl at the school. You say you left him and the school at about nine in the morning. . right?”

“Ja.”

“Then you drove around looking to buy medicines for your sick baby.”

“Ja.”

“After driving around and stopping at two stores you then drove back home.”

“Ja.”

“That’s when you posted Karl’s science fair pictures on Facebook.”

“Ja.”

“Then you picked up your sick baby and went with the sick baby to the gym from eleven-twenty to twelve-twenty.”

“Ja.”

“All this in your husband’s white pickup truck?’

“Ja.”

“Why?”

“Why what?”

Sohlberg again found himself almost smiling at the stepmother’s crafty evasions. “Fru Haugen. . why did you drive your husband’s pickup when you have your own car. . the red Audi sports car?”

“I don’t know. . I guess I like the pickup more for driving the baby around town.”

“Even though the baby was sick?”

“I wanted to give my husband a break. . he needed some time to do work from home on the computer. So I took the baby with me to the gym.”

“Was that his idea?” said Sohlberg who again offered her the door to start incriminating her husband.

“I. . I guess so.”

She had opened the door. He wondered if she’d step in all the way through the proffered door. Sohlberg said almost causally:

“Was it his idea to not go into work that day. . and stay at home?”

“I’m not his boss. He does whatever he wants when it comes to his work at Nokia.”

“Speaking of his work at Nokia. . I noticed that he travels quite a bit for them all over Europe and the United States.”

“Ja.”

“On one of those trips. . a month before Karl disappeared. . you took a call on your cell phone at a farm that belonged to your husband’s grandfather.”

Her eyes glazed over. He had finally caught her off balance. He could see her thinking and trying to stay one step ahead of him. She lapsed into silence.

“Ja Fru Haugen. We know all about that call. . a call that you did not answer but that your cell phone picked up when you were at the farm.”

“I lend my phone out quite a lot.”

“Oh really?. . Who got your loaner cell phone on May third of last year?”

“I don’t remember. . I might have lent the phone to my husband’s brother.”

Sohlberg almost nodded but not in agreement but rather in amazement at how subtle she was in now trying to drag in her husband’s brother into the short list of suspects.

“Your husband’s brother?”

“Ja.”

“The one who got arrested for molesting a teenage girl?”

“Ja. That one.”

“The one who said his grandfather raped him and your husband in the barn?”

“Ja.”

“But why would you lend him your phone when he has no real relationship with you. . I understand he’s only met you once or twice during the past five years.”

“Gunnar’s family are leeches. . they want our money. . they smooch off of us all the time.”

“You mean his family wants his money. . don’t you?”

“Well yes. I’m on unemployment.”

“Let’s see if I got this right. . are you telling me that you lent your cell phone to your husband’s brother?”

“Ja. I must have.”

“And you’re telling me that your brother-in-law was at his grandfather’s farm when he got a call from one of your friends?”

“Ja. He must have.”

“That’s going to be rather difficult because your husband’s brother was down in Copenhagen that week with his girlfriend and her family.”

“He could’ve lent my phone to someone else.”

“Like who?”

“I don’t know. Ask my brother-in-law. Who knows what shady characters he lent my phone to. . ”

“We have. He’s never borrowed or used your phone or your husband’s.”

“Then I don’t know what to tell you.”

“How about the truth?”

“I’ve told you the truth.”

“So you say. Tell me Fru Haugen. . how is it that the neighbors happened to have seen your car in the farm on the day that your cell phone received that call?”

“My car?”

Agnes Haugen looked slightly confused.

Had she forgotten whose car she had driven up to the Haugen farm to plant the lunch box in the barn? Or was she merely pretending to be confused so as to force Sohlberg into revealing exactly which car the neighbors had seen at the Haugen farm?

“Yes. Your car.”

“I don’t think so Detective. Not my car.”

“Oh. . did you think Fru Haugen that I was referring to your red Audi sports car?. . No. I was referring to your husband’s white pickup. . which you drove to Grindbakken Skole. . Pilot Hill elementary school. . with Karl the day that he disappeared.”

“I rarely drive that car.”

“The neighbors at the farm saw you. . a redhead with long hair. . driving your husband’s white pickup truck.”

“My husband must have taken another woman up there with him.”

“I doubt it.”

“He’s no saint.”

“Are you Fru Haugen?”

“What are you implying?”

“I’m not implying anything. I’m letting you know the facts. . the evidence. . you drove the white pickup truck to the farm.”

“Have you considered my husband?”

“Ja. . but he was traveling with another Nokia executive in rather distant locations. Now I’d like you to tell me why someone other than you would take your cell phone up to a farm owned by your husband’s grandfather?”

“I don’t know. . ”

“Did you know Fru Haugen that several neighbors also remember seeing your red Audi sports car up there several times in the months of April and May of last year?”

“I lend my car out quite a lot.”

“Who got your loaner car on May third of last year?”

“I don’t remember. . like I said. . I lend my car a lot.”

Constable Wangelin threw Sohlberg a look that said, “You see! I told you that the Haugens make the unnatural seem normal.”

“Fru Haugen. . why would someone take your car up to a farm owned by your husband’s grandfather?”

“I don’t know. . ”

Sohlberg leaned forward as if he was actually throwing her such a difficult curve ball that she would not be able to return his volley. He said:

“How did your stepson’s lunch box wind up buried in the farm that once belonged to your husband’s grandfather?”