Edvard Rønning Junior the lawyer and I were suddenly left on our own with four women: the deceased’s wife, daughter, sister and mistress.
It was only now that I discovered that Magdalena Schelderup was sitting there with an inscrutable expression on her face and more than ever resembled an old owl. I would have given a lot to know what she was thinking. It struck me that there was something different about her but, rather annoyingly, I could not put my finger on what.
Synnøve Jensen sat as though frozen on the other side of the table in her plain clothes, with her face in her hands, only now her future and that of her unborn child had been secured.
You could almost touch the ice that chilled the air between the deceased’s wife and mistress. Again it was Maria Irene who suddenly saved the day – and this time without saying a word. She calmly put her hand on her mother’s shoulder and more or less pulled her from the room. Magdalena Schelderup followed them with her eyes but stayed seated, her face still thoughtful. She poured herself a cup of coffee. We watched her drink it in almost breathless silence, and waited for a message that never came.
It was Rønning Junior who first stirred to action. He informed Synnøve Jensen in a sombre tone that if she came by his office with her bank book tomorrow or the day after, he would arrange for her to be paid the 200,000 kroner as soon as possible. He then gave her his business card, and shook hands with those who were still there before leaving the room.
I thought I caught a hint of triumph and irony in the lawyer’s eyes when he shook my hand. But it was fleeting and I saw no reason to further complicate the case by starting an argument with him. Formally, there was nothing to quibble about. I had only asked him about the content of the current will and he had answered correctly. Strictly speaking, it was my own forgetfulness that was to blame as I had not asked whether there were any previous wills and, in that case, what they said. And in any case, I now had the answer to my question only a matter of hours later. But I would have liked Rønning Junior more if he had taken the trouble to tell me earlier about the other will.
The sound of Mr Rønning’s voice and steps appeared to have woken the until now paralysed Synnøve Jensen to life. She lowered her hands from her face, put the business card in her pocket and left the room with a quiet apology for something or other.
