The Human Flies - страница 16

The newspapers made depressing reading for the remaining residents of 25 Krebs’ Street. The deceased’s neighbours remained anonymous, but the address and photographs would make it easy enough for anyone interested to identify them. The papers would be disheartening reading for Konrad Jensen in particular. Several of them carried the news that the residents of 25 Krebs’ Street included a previously convicted Nazi. No one gave his name. One of the main newspapers did, however, mention that the previously convicted Nazi now worked as a taxi driver – and printed a photograph of his parked car.

Harald Olesen’s nephew and niece were in their forties and gave an immediate impression of prosperity and reliability when they came into my office at nine o’clock. The niece, who was tall and blonde, was called Cecilia Olesen and worked as an office manager for the Oslo Cooperative Housing Association. Her brother was the same height, somewhat darker and more serious. With regard to his civil status, Joachim Olesen said that he was married and had two children under school age. His sister had been married and had a daughter, but had taken back her maiden name following a divorce. The niece and nephew both said that they had had good, if sporadic, contact with their uncle. He had withdrawn somewhat following the death of his wife, but still had relatively regular contact with the family. He had spoken very little about the other residents in the building.

The niece and nephew were also both of the opinion that Harald Olesen had been downcast of late, but believed that this had a natural, medical explanation. After a Christmas party the year before, he had told them that he had been diagnosed with cancer and may not live to see next Christmas. So the news of his death was not entirely unexpected, though obviously the circumstances had been a shock, and a blow to the whole family.

The niece and nephew had both understood without anything having been said that they were his closest relatives and could therefore expect a substantial inheritance. They had, however, never wished to ask about it, and he had not said anything explicit. He had inherited a large amount of money from his father and had never been a big spender, despite earning well for many years himself. The family therefore had reason to believe that he was a very wealthy man. They had only received a short and businesslike message from their uncle’s lawyer stating that in accordance with the deceased’s wishes, the will would be read at the law firm’s offices six days after his death, more specifically on Wednesday, 10 April at midday.

I made a note about the cancer, which was the most important new piece of information from the niece and nephew. The other important piece of information was that Harald Olesen had the year before asked for the family’s permission to work on his own biography. This was prompted by a request from a young history student by the name of Bjørn Erik Svendsen. Without prying too much, the niece and nephew had later understood that the book was underway and that Harald Olesen had had several open-hearted conversations with his biographer and also given him access to parts of his archive.

The niece and nephew had nothing more of any relevance to tell. I said goodbye to them around ten and promised to inform them as soon as there was anything new to report in connection with the murder investigation. The history student Bjørn Erik Svendsen was added to the top of my list of people to contact as soon as possible. It struck me as odd that I still had not heard from him two days after the murder. Fortunately, this little mystery was quickly cleared. It transpired that a message from a woman who had called as she absolutely had to talk to me was from a certain Hanne Line Svendsen, and she was Bjørn Erik Svendsen’s mother. She said that her son had gone to an international socialist youth conference in Rome, but had been informed of the murder by telephone and telegram. He was expected home late on Sunday evening and would come to the police station first thing on Monday morning. Bjørn Erik Svendsen had said, on a very bad line from Rome, that it was possible that he had some important information about Harald Olesen’s early life and would of course make this available to the investigation. I reluctantly accepted the news that Mr Bjørn Erik Svendsen could not be contacted before Monday morning. I tried to see it as positive that new information regarding Harald Olesen was on its way to Norway.