The Human Flies - страница 12

Gullestad told me that his previous home had proved to be ‘somewhat impractical’ following a ‘very regrettable’ accident four years ago that left him paralysed from the waist down. And with a small, self-deprecating smile, he added: ‘I had never, not even in my worst nightmares, ever considered the possibility of living east of the river.’

Neverthless, he had taken to the flat instantly and had not since regretted buying it. It was important for him to have a ground-floor flat in a building with low thresholds and a lift, and what was more, he had been pleasantly surprised by how helpful everyone else was here. The deceased Harald Olesen had always been friendly and polite, and it was an honour indeed for someone who had been a child during the war to live in the same house as such an old hero from the Resistance. Gullestad could not imagine that anyone in the building was capable of murdering Olesen, and nor did he think that any of them would have the motive to do so. He believed that the murderer must somehow have managed to get in from outside, though he could not explain how.

Gullestad also mentioned that the caretaker was perhaps a little too fond of the drink, which obviously had a considerable effect on his wife. But when he was sober, the caretaker was a handy man, and his wife was always helpfulness itself. Darrell Williams was the most recent incomer. He had accepted an invitation to coffee and made a very ‘favourable’ impression. But being two floors down, Gullestad did not know much of what went on on the second floor. On the other hand, he had very good relations with the young couple on the first floor.

As far as Konrad Jensen was concerned, Gullestad was aware of his ‘deeply unfortunate’ affiliations during the war and wished to make it clear that he deplored them. But he was able to overlook these old sins as long as Jensen’s behaviour now gave no grounds for complaint. Jensen had almost certainly not had an easy time of it during the war, and seemed to be both lonely and disillusioned. All the same, Gullestad could not imagine that he was a cold-blooded murderer. The young Swedish lady had also accepted an invitation to coffee shortly after she had moved in last August, and had then, as later, been ‘utterly charming’.

Gullestad paused for a moment and sucked thoughtfully on a sugar lump. Then he added in a very quiet voice that ‘at the risk of being indiscreet’, he should perhaps mention something with regard to Miss Sundqvist that may be of relevance to the investigation. Although he had never seen her with a boyfriend, or heard her mention anyone, he was under the impression that there was a man in her life. Gullestad’s bedroom was directly under that of Sara Sundqvist, and the sounds he heard from there would indicate that she occasionally had ‘very enjoyable and lively visits’. He had only heard this in the afternoons between five and seven, never at night. So it would seem that Sara Sundqvist had an admirer who only visited her in the afternoon and did not stay the night.

Andreas Gullestad was swift to reply that he had no guns in the flat, and had not seen evidence of one in any of the other flats. But he sat deep in thought for a few moments in response to my question about the blue raincoat and then answered gravely: ‘I definitely did not see any blue raincoats in the building on the day of the murder, but there was a day last summer when I saw an unknown man here on the stairs in a large blue raincoat with a red scarf over his face.’

Naturally, I was extremely interested in this information and asked for further details. Gullestad concentrated hard for a minute or so before answering.

‘I am fairly sure that I saw a man in a blue raincoat here last year. It struck me as odd as it was nice weather that day, with no moisture in the air, and I speculated for a while who the mysterious man might be visiting. The exact date escapes me, but it may have been the Whitsun weekend. For a while I wondered if it was perhaps in connection with a carnival or some other festivity, but I’m afraid I don’t remember much more.’