To get back on track again, I then asked if she had lived here alone with her daughter for all these years.
‘Yes. I said before the wedding that it was him or no one, and there was no one after him. In the years after the war, there were a few not entirely unsuitable men who showed an interest. But I wanted to dedicate my life to Bjørn’s daughter, and, well, when you find the person you love dead and never manage to find out who killed him, it breaks something in you that can never be fixed.’
That was understandable enough. But I had to ask whether any of those who had shown an interest were men she had known during the war.
‘Never Magdalon Schelderup and never Petter Johannes Wendelboe, if that is what you mean. Both had married well, and when Schelderup later got divorced, he was married again within a matter of weeks. So the help that he gave me seems to have been with no strings attached. On the other hand…’
She hesitated, but then carried on when I indicated impatiently that she should.
‘On the other hand, there was a time when I got the impression that the manager, Hans Herlofsen, was interested. It was in the period just after he had lost his wife, when life was no doubt difficult for him and his young son.’
She noticed my astonishment and promptly continued.
‘It was completely harmless. He stopped by a couple of times after work, talked about how much time and money two single parents, each with their own child, might save by getting married. He was not someone I would have chosen anyway. And, more importantly, I still had nothing to give any man other than Bjørn, and did not think that I ever would. I helped him to understand this and he paid no more visits. It has always been pleasant enough whenever we have met again over the years. But I really do not see what that has to do with any of the murders.’
Neither did I, if truth be told. However, I noted down a new question for Hans Herlofsen, and reflected that he had obviously forgotten to tell me rather a lot.
I remarked that I had probably seen all that I needed to in the room where her husband had been killed and that she could now do whatever she wished with the room, with a clear conscience. She shook her head sadly.
‘I would love to tidy out the room, but I am not ready for it yet. I hope that I will be able to start the day after you tell me who murdered my husband.’
I took the hint and stood up to leave. I heard my voice promise to do my best and said that I would let her know as soon as I discovered anything new. At the same time I thought to myself that, no matter who had killed Magdalon Schelderup, he had indeed left a sad collection of people and fates in his wake.
