This dream was definitely the highlight of the day so far. But one absolute requirement was that the murder case had to be solved before I could even begin to follow up on the dream. At half past nine, I got out of bed alone and moved into the living room. I spent the next hour in an extremely frustrating state where I could not think of anything other than the case, but at the same time was unable to make any headway.
For a change, my phone rang at half past ten in the evening on Thursday, 15 May. This time it was Synnøve Jensen’s distraught voice that I heard at the other end.
‘Maybe this is silly… But Magdalon said something to me not long before he died, something that I don’t understand. And I also have something I think I should show you. I should probably have done so before. It is all very peculiar and I may have done something wrong without knowing it. Would you be able to come here first thing tomorrow morning?’
I hesitated a moment and then asked if she had received some kind of threat. She immediately replied no, and then added that it was probably not so urgent I needed to go there now, straight away. But I felt more and more uncertain. There was something about the intensity of the case and the memory of Leonard Schelderup phoning me in the evening and then being found shot before I could meet him the next day. So I pushed my tiredness to one side and said in a determined voice that I would come immediately.
It took no more than two minutes from the time that I put down the receiver until I had my coat on and was out through the door. But all the same, I felt reasonably calm as I left my house.
It was while I drove through the night alone in my car, heading towards Sørum, with no means of communication with Synnøve Jensen, Patricia or anyone else, that I was overwhelmed by a sudden unease.
This was probably due to a combination of the anxiety I thought I detected in Synnøve Jensen’s voice, the fact that Leonard Schlelderup had been shot only hours after he called me and yesterday’s letter warning of another death. Whatever the case, I felt a rising anxiety and put my foot to the floor. Visibility was good and there was very little in the way of traffic. In a strange way, the great silence and loneliness of the road only served to heighten my fears. My thoughts were preoccupied with what it was that Synnøve Jensen thought was so important to show me, but I could find no sensible answer.
