Patricia sat deep in thought again. It was obvious that she was struggling and more preoccupied with the murder of Leonard Schelderup.
‘Leonard Schelderup’s male lover definitely had nothing to do with the murder. The fact that Leonard Schelderup had a male lover may, however, be of some interest. I would be keen to know how much his father and brother knew. Do ask the brother about it next time you see him. But there is one thing that puzzles me, in connection with the will…’
She hesitated a moment, but then continued.
‘It may be of no significance, but it is worth noting. In the first will, Leonard Schelderup was left ten times as much as his brother. In the second, they were equal. It would seem that something had happened to improve Fredrik’s standing. So I would like to know whether Magdalon knew about Leonard’s secret and, if so, when he found out.’
I promised to do my best to find out. My visits to Patricia had a tendency to result in both important new conclusions and new tasks.
She stopped me unexpectedly for a moment as I was about to go out of the door. When I turned around, her face was sombre and pale.
‘I should perhaps say that I find this case more and more alarming. And if the theory that is forming in my mind is anything close to the truth, the case will be the epitome of human evil.’
The sudden gravity with which she said this took me aback, but reinforced my own feelings of danger and unease. I knew her well enough to understand that as there was still so much uncertainty, she was not ready to say any more about her theory. So I put my best foot forward and went off to carry on with the investigation.
It seemed to me on the evening of Wednesday, 14 May that the case was becoming more and more intense. It was almost to be expected that the telephone would ring in the evening now, once I had come home. This time it was no later than a quarter past ten and I had just turned on the box to watch the evening’s documentary about the slums of New York.
Once again it was Sandra Schelderup’s voice I heard at the other end. At first I feared that there had been another death, this time involving Maria Irene. But there was no mention of catastrophe and no angry outburst. Her voice was controlled and in no way unfriendly.
She apologized for calling me so late. But she was suddenly unsure about something that was potentially of great importance, so she simply wanted to check whether we had found her husband’s sizeable key ring, either in his pocket or his office.
