Marie Morgenstierne’s family had still not been in touch. And her father Martin Morgenstierne was still not answering the telephone, even though I had now called around ten times. It was starting to be a significant problem that we had not managed to contact the deceased’s closest family. The priest had knocked on Martin Morgenstierne’s door around midnight the night before and then again at half past seven in the morning, without finding any sign of life.
Given the time of year, it seemed likely that Martin Morgenstierne was either abroad or at a cabin without television, radio or a telephone. His employer was most likely to know where he was. As there were still not so many bank managers in Oslo, I asked one of the secretaries to go through the list and ring all of the banks in the city, if necessary.
In the meantime, I myself called the number provided for Falko Reinhardt’s parents in Grünerløkka. Here the telephone was answered on the third ring. An earnest woman’s voice announced ‘Reinhardt’. I introduced myself and said that if she and her husband were at home today, I would very much like to come and speak to them in connection with the murder of Marie Morgenstierne. She replied equally earnestly that she and her husband had heard about the murder on the radio, but did not know that it was Marie Morgenstierne who had been killed until just now. She added that since their son’s disappearance, they were generally always at home.
There was silence for a moment. I asked if it would be suitable to come at either four or five o’clock. She replied, still very serious, that I could come at four, or at five, or whenever I liked. I said that I reckoned it would be sometime between four and five. She said that they would be happy to talk to me, but did not sound as though she meant it. Then she put the phone down before I had a chance to thank her.
The secretary helping me trace Martin Morgenstierne was young and eager, and only a few minutes after I had finished my telephone call, she was standing at my door with the address and telephone number of the bank where Martin Morgenstierne was manager. It was not one of the largest in town, but was well known all the same and had a good reputation.
I rang the bank’s switchboard and said that I was from the police and it was urgent. Then I got straight to the point and asked if they knew where Martin Morgenstierne, the manager, was.
