But the real drama happened when I turned abruptly to Mrs Wendelboe and asked her directly if she had telephoned Leonard Schelderup on the night that he was killed. She burst into tears. Her husband looked at me intently, but I also caught a small glimpse of respect in his eyes. Once again, it was he who answered.
‘My wife has had to live with a heavy burden and it has been weighing on her even more in recent days. We hope that it will not be necessary to tell Mrs Ingrid Schelderup about this episode. My wife and I had nothing to do with Leonard Schelderup’s death. But it is unfortunately the case that my wife phoned him and made a threat in the hope that he would confess to the murder of his father. We have obviously realized with hindsight that he had nothing to do with it, and that this does not have anything to do with his death. But it has been hard for my wife to live with the knowledge that she unjustly made such a threat to a young man who only hours later was killed himself.’
I looked questioningly at Mrs Wendelboe. She was still sobbing, and nodded three times before she managed to find her voice.
‘What my husband says is true; it is terrible, and he knew nothing about it. I knew that we had nothing to do with Magdalon Schelderup’s death. But we had only days before sat here with Herlofsen and discussed the possibility of murdering Magdalon Schelderup. I was terrified that Herlofsen would let it slip and that we would become suspects. The thought of how awful that would be for our children and grandchildren was unbearable. And given the situation, it seemed most likely to me that the poor young Leonard had killed his tyrannical father. I wanted to frighten him into a confession, but instead added to the burden of an innocent man in what were his final hours on earth. The world came crashing down around my ears when I heard that he too had been murdered.’
Mrs Wendelboe was so inconsolably distraught that it was impossible to be angry with her. I patted her on the shoulder and thanked her as kindly as I could for her explanation. She asked for permission to go and lie down and left the room with a bowed head. Her husband and I remained sitting and listened to her footsteps as she dragged herself up the stairs.
As he showed me out, Wendelboe thanked me in a quiet voice for my understanding.
‘As you have no doubt understood, my wife has been in a terrible state over the past few days. In a way, she has continued to circle round her dead brother for all these years. And recent events have just brought it all up again. She did not tell me that she had called until afterwards and I immediately said that I wished it was undone.’
