We sat looking at each other for a moment or two. He hesitated when I asked him in what way Schelderup had proved himself to be trustworthy.
I hastily added that the case would of course be time-barred and that I did not need any names, but had to know what happened. It could be of vital importance to the murder investigation and might even shed new light on the old war cases.
Wendelboe gave a brief nod to the former and a slower one to the latter. He leant forwards in his chair and continued in a hushed voice.
‘It was a liquidation. An NS member with a lot of power and too many contacts on the German side, who we thought might be a threat to us and other people on the right side. He already had numerous arrests on his conscience, and several of those arrested later lost their lives or health in German war camps. He left behind no wife or children. I have not regretted that action one single day, only that we did not take him out before. We had spoken about it even before Magdalon joined us. I was interested to see whether he would oppose it; after all, it was someone he had studied with and who was a business contact. However, it was in fact Magdalon who initiated the operation. He first suggested it sometime in December 1941. I remember the case was discussed here under the guise of a Christmas dinner.’
‘And the operation itself?’
Wendelboe hesitated for a moment again, but then carried on.
‘It took place later on in the spring, towards Easter 1942. He was shot when he was out skiing. I have promised never to say who was involved in those operations.’
‘But it may be vital, in terms of Schelderup’s role and his murder. I have to ask whether Schelderup was directly involved in the hope that you will either nod or shake your head?’
Wendelboe gave it a couple of moment’s thought, then gave a curt nod.
‘Ole Kristian Wiig?’
He nodded again.
‘Hans Herlofsen?’
He shook his head.
‘And yourself?’
He nodded. In that moment I believed his story and did not feel the need to press him any further. Certainly not at the moment. Instead I quickly changed the subject and threw down one of the trump cards that Patricia had given me.
‘One might go to these Sunday suppers because one is forced to, or because one is in love with someone who is there, or because one wants to eat, because one wants to drink, or because one likes to hear oneself talk. No one could force you to go if you did not want to; you are a loyal husband, you did not need to go there for food and drink, and you never said anything when you were there. So you went there for another reason…’
