by Samuel Bjork
‘They’re blaming each other,’ Curry said.
‘For the murder?’ Mia was taken aback.
Curry nodded. ‘A crime of passion. Some kind of love triangle. The two of them had a fight right in front of us. We had to handcuff them. Since then neither of them has said very much.’
‘So what’s the plan?’
‘The plan?’ Curry said.
‘Yes. What are we thinking now? What has Munch said?’
‘Not a lot so far,’ Curry said with a shrug. ‘Him first. Then her. Then back to him, I think.’
‘He’s not interviewing them at the same time?’
‘No. Munch thought the girl should be left to stew on her own for a while. Waiting always scares them.’
‘That’s true,’ Mia said, she rose from the chair, went out into the corridor and knocked on the door to the interview room.
Kim Kolsø opened the door for her.
‘Time to swap?’ Mia offered.
‘OK.’ Kolsø nodded, letting her in.
‘The time is 16.05,’ Munch said into the tape recorder. ‘Investigator Kim Kolsø has left the room. Mia Krüger has arrived.’
Mia hung her leather jacket on the back of the chair and sat down.
‘Hi, Paulus. Mia Krüger,’ Mia said, extending her hand across the table.
The young man glanced after Kim, who had just left the room, then looked nervously at Mia before tentatively shaking her hand.
‘Paulus Monsen.’
‘I’ve heard a lot about you. People say you’re a nice guy. Very competent, everybody at the Nurseries sings your praises …’
‘Really?’ the young man said. He sounded a little confused.
‘You’re skilful.’ Mia smiled. ‘Good at your job. Must be nice to hear. That everyone thinks so highly of you.’
‘Er, yes, thank you,’ Paulus said, glancing nervously at Munch, who clearly had not been quite as friendly.
‘And just so you know it, the dope, the plants, we don’t really care about them – it’s not our business, OK? A bit of cannabis, a few plants – so what? That could happen to anyone.’
Mia was aware of a stony stare from Munch, but ignored it.
‘All right?’ She smiled at the young man, who continued to look puzzled.
He glanced quickly at Munch again, but it was clear he was more comfortable looking at her.
‘It was just a few plants,’ he said in a low voice.
‘Like I said, forget about it. Seriously, it’s nothing.’
Mia could see him dropping his guard now. The young man leaned back in his chair slightly, and raked his hands through his curls.
‘It was just for personal consumption. I wasn’t going to sell it or anything, if that’s what you’re thinking.’
‘Exactly. Don’t give it another thought.’
Munch was about to open his mouth, but Mia nudged him under the table.
‘But what is a little more serious …’ Mia said, pretending to mull it over.
She could sense that the young man on the chair had started to get nervous again.
‘What?’ he said.
‘Well, it’s Benedikte. She …’ Mia said at length, letting the remark linger in the air.
‘What did Benedikte say?’ the young man demanded to know.
Mia gave a light shrug and raised her eyebrows.
‘That bitch!’ Paulus suddenly burst out. ‘Is she saying that I killed Camilla?’ His eyes were flashing now. ‘She’s lying,’ Paulus said desperately, getting up from the chair. ‘You have to believe me.’
‘Sit down,’ Munch ordered him.
The young man continued to stand. He looked imploringly at them both.
‘Sit down,’ Munch ordered him again.
Paulus sat down and buried his head in his hands. ‘You have to believe me, Benedikte is out of her mind, bonkers, I’m going to …’
‘Kill her, too?’ Munch said calmly.
‘What?’ He looked up at them, wide-eyed.
‘Are you going to kill Benedikte, like you killed Camilla?’
‘What? No, for God’s sake. I didn’t kill Camilla, I keep telling you!’
‘I thought you had confessed,’ Munch went on. ‘I thought that was why you’re here?’
‘Confessed? No, I’ve only confessed to growing the plants.’ He looked at Mia again, hoping she would come to his rescue, but Mia said nothing, she just let Munch carry on.
‘So you started a relationship with Camilla Green when she was under the age of consent. You drugged her in your hideout and had sex with her. Is that what happened?’
‘No,’ Paulus said, fixing his eyes on the table again.
‘So you weren’t in a relationship with Camilla?’ Mia said amicably. ‘You weren’t a couple?’
‘Yes, but …’
‘But what?’
‘It wasn’t like he said.’ He nodded towards Munch. ‘He made it sound really ugly.’
Mia cut in. ‘So how was it, then? Between Camilla and you?’
‘It was … beautiful,’ Paulus ventured.
‘You were fond of her?’
‘I loved her,’ the young man said, and Mia could see that he was struggling to keep the tears at bay now.
‘And she loved you, too?’
The young man seemed as if he needed time to think before he replied. As if he did not know the answer.
‘I think so,’ he said, after a while.
‘But …?’
‘But she … Camilla was special. She wanted to live her own life. She was a totally free spirit, if you know what I mean?’
Paulus looked up again but avoided making eye contact with Munch; he looked only at Mia now, with almost pleading eyes.
‘Please believe me: I didn’t kill her. I would never do anything to hurt Camilla. I loved her. I would have done anything for her.’
‘But she didn’t want you and so you just took what you wanted anyway,’ Munch asserted crudely.
Mia glared at Munch and shook her head in despair. Mia Krüger had nothing but respect for her boss but, at times, he could be rather too simplistic.
‘No,’ Paulus said, retreating into himself again.
Mia glowered at Munch, who merely shrugged his shoulders.
‘You mentioned something to my colleagues,’ she said cautiously, ‘which I’ve been wondering about.’
‘What?’ Paulus said, not looking at her.
‘As far as I can gather, you accused Benedikte of having killed Camilla, is that right?’
There was a short silence before the young man replied. ‘It was just something I said in the heat of the moment. I was angry.’
‘With Benedikte?’
‘Yes.’
‘Why?’
‘She came down to my hideaway,’ the young man said, raising his gaze again. ‘Started babbling about how we were meant for each other, how great it was that Camilla was gone, so now she and I could finally be together, and that was why she had sent the message.’
‘What message?’ Munch asked.
‘Eh?’ Paulus said. He did not seem to be completely there.
‘What message?’ Munch asked again.
‘The one from Camilla’s mobile.’
‘Benedikte had Camilla’s mobile?’
Mia glanced quickly at Munch, who returned her look of surprise.
‘She found it in Camilla’s room after she disappeared,’ Paulus went on. He was clearly exhausted now.
‘I want to be quite clear about this,’ Munch said. ‘Which text message are we talking about?’
Paulus ran his hand across his forehead. ‘She sent a message to Helene saying everything was all right.’
‘From Camilla’s mobile?’
Paulus nodded quietly.
‘And that’s when I lost my cool. I didn’t mean to accuse Benedikte of having killed her. I’m sorry I said it. She may be crazy, but she would never do anything like that.’
‘Did she say anything about wh
y she sent the text message?’ Mia wanted to know.
‘So no one would look for her.’
‘Because if Camilla was gone for good, the two of you could finally be together?’
‘Something like that,’ the young man mumbled, looking like he found talking difficult now.
‘Let’s take a break,’ Munch said, looking at Mia, who nodded back. ‘Are you hungry, Paulus? Would you like something to eat or drink?’
The boy with the curls gave a light shrug and replied without looking at them.
‘A burger, perhaps. And a Coke. I haven’t been eating much recently …’
They could see that he could barely manage it now, to hold back the tears.
‘The time is 16.32. Interview with Paulus Monsen terminated,’ Munch said, turning off the tape recorder.
Chapter 46
Miriam Munch was standing in the street outside the red-brick apartment block, having second thoughts. She had been so sure. What she had felt the night before, she had never experienced anything like it, but after brunch with Johannes other thoughts started sneaking into her mind. She was not worried about Johannes, no; she was thinking about Marion. Poor little Marion, how would she take it? After all, she had done nothing wrong. Why should a lovely little six-year-old girl have to go through this, her whole world falling apart, because her mother was in love with another man?
Miriam glanced at the watch Johannes had given her, and felt guilty again. Johannes had made such an effort, taken time off work, cooked them a lovely brunch, suggested that they go out for dinner, bought her a present. Yes, he had had an agenda because he wanted to go to Sydney, but so what? She glanced quickly up at the building again, at the flat where she had spent the night not that long ago.
Eight o’clock. That was the time it started. The meeting. Atlantis Farms. A laboratory in Hurum that used animals for illegal experiments. She still had time to change her mind. She had not signed her life away. She could go back on the tram. Ride it all the way home. Put on a dress. Go out for dinner with Johannes after all – no, he had volunteered for a night shift now. She could take the car. Pick Marion up. Watch a film or something. Snow White. Or Sleeping Beauty. One of those princess films six-year-old girls could not get enough of. She could almost feel Marion’s warm body under the blanket on the sofa. Little fingers in a bowl of popcorn. Eager, naive blue eyes fixed on the screen.
‘Don’t eat the apple, it’s been poisoned!’
Miriam smiled to herself and found a cigarette in her coat pocket. She lit it and tightened the scarf around her neck.
A raid?
Years ago, she would not have thought twice about it. Never wondered whether taking part was wise. Miriam Munch hated injustice. Vile people in positions of power who exploited others, be it people or animals, to increase their profits. She had loved her time with Amnesty International. Getting up in the morning, feeling that what she did had some kind of value, that she could make a difference. But then, at the age of nineteen she had had Marion, and she had worried about her ability to handle motherhood, fearing that she might not be good enough, and so she had devoted all her time to the little girl.
Sod it.
There had to be limits.
Atlantis Farms. Helpless animals trapped in cages, subjected to pain every day, only so that people who already had far too much money could have more.
She wanted to take part.
Miriam threw the cigarette on the ground and quickly marched up the stairs to the second-floor flat.
‘Hi.’ Ziggy smiled as he opened the door. ‘I was starting to think you weren’t coming.’
‘Am I too late?’ Miriam said, hanging up her coat and scarf on a peg in the hallway.
‘Oh no.’ Ziggy showed her into the living room. ‘We started at seven, not that it matters.’
‘I thought you said eight?’ Miriam said.
‘Doesn’t matter.’ Ziggy winked and introduced her to the small group in the living room.
‘Everyone, for those of you who haven’t met her before, this is Miriam Munch. She’ll be coming with us on Tuesday. I know that some of you might think it strange to include a newcomer, but I can assure you that Miriam is one of us, and we need all the help we can get, don’t we?’
‘Hi,’ Miriam said.
‘Hi.’
‘Welcome.’
‘Nice to meet you.’
‘Hi, Miriam,’ Julie said, getting up to hug her and pass her a glass of wine. ‘It’s so cool that you decided to join us.’
‘Looking forward to it,’ Miriam said, finding a seat next to her friend on the floor.
‘I’m the one who suggested her, so you know that she’s all right.’
It was the young man with the round glasses from the kitchen. He smiled at her, a little embarrassed, a kind of apology perhaps for having tried to chat her up, not knowing who she was.
‘That’s not entirely true now, Jacob, is it?’ Ziggy said.
‘Of course it is. I said, she’s the daughter of Holger Munch himself, we need to get her to join us, get inside information and all that.’
‘Yes, all right, Jacob, Miriam joining us is entirely down to you. Thank you so much,’ Ziggy said.
‘My pleasure, my pleasure.’ Jacob bowed lightly in front of them all.
‘But seriously, it’s not going to be a problem, is it?’ A young man in an Icelandic sweater was leaning against the window, his arms folded across his chest, his face grave. Miriam had seen him at Julie’s party, but she could not remember his name.
‘What is?’ Ziggy said.
‘That she’s related to a police officer?’
‘No, no,’ Ziggy began. ‘She is—’
‘Thank you, Ziggy, but I can defend myself,’ Miriam said, suddenly finding herself standing in the middle of the room with everyone’s eyes on her. It was not something she had planned, but she was buoyed up with a sense of purpose.
‘Yes, erm.’ She smiled, regretting it a little, but there was no way back, so she took a deep breath and soldiered on. ‘So my name is Miriam. Hello, everyone.’
‘Hello, Miriam.’
‘Welcome.’
The faces around her continued to smile, except for the man in the Icelandic sweater by the window, whose eyes were still dark and whose arms remained folded across his chest.
‘I don’t know if any of you used to hang out at Blitz, but that was where I started, back when I was fifteen. I’ve marched against racism and Nazism, I used to belong to Amnesty, today I volunteer for the Animal Protection League. I’ve been chained to the railings in front of the Storting, I’ve been kicked in the head by a police horse and got fifteen stitches as a result. I’ve promoted women’s rights, and yes, to be honest, I don’t know a lot about what you’re about to do – what we’re about to do – but trapping animals in cages, whatever the reason, makes me so mad that …’
Miriam ran out of steam, and continued to stand, not knowing what to say.
‘There was no need for you to do that, Miriam. We trust you,’ Ziggy said. ‘But thank you all the same.’
‘I recommended her, so she’s already accepted, am I right?’ Jacob piped up.
Miriam sat down again, a little uncomfortable with her overly dramatic performance.
Ziggy clapped his hands and gazed around the small group. ‘Any questions before we move on?’
Chapter 47
‘What do you think?’ Munch said.
He had just carried a beer and a Farris mineral water gingerly across the floor in Justisen, and set down the beer on the table in front of her.
‘About keeping them overnight, you mean?’
‘Yes.’
Mia took a leisurely swig of her beer, in a half-hearted attempt to hide her thirst in front of Munch.
She had not taken any pills for almost twenty-four hours and she could feel that she needed it now, the alcohol, to calm her nerves.
‘It’s unnecessary.’
‘So you don’t think
that one of them did it?’
‘No,’ Mia said. ‘Do you?’
‘It’s just possible.’
‘What is?’
‘That we’re making this more complicated than it really is,’ Munch said, putting his coat on an adjacent chair.
‘In what way?’
‘OK, let’s ignore how she was killed and look at motives instead.’
Mia took another unhurried swig of her beer. ‘Benedikte was jealous?’
‘Yes.’ Munch nodded. ‘And a bit highly strung, didn’t you think so?’
‘I did. But if she wanted to get rid of Camilla, why leave her body where we would find it?’
‘Fair point, but even so?’
‘She doesn’t seem the type. Way too sensitive. Flaky. This is much more calculated. More planned. Crimes of passion rarely are.’
She took another swig of her beer. Twenty-four hours without any medication; she was starting to suffer withdrawal symptoms.
‘But they can be, can’t they?’ Munch argued.
Mia looked at him and wondered why he insisted on keeping this option open: that Benedikte Riis or Paulus Monsen was the person they were looking for. To her it was blindingly obvious that neither of them was the killer. They were just two young people who had got themselves caught in a harmless love triangle. She had not needed to spend long in the interview room before reaching that conclusion, but Munch did not seem to want to let his suspicions go.
‘Yes, sure, but I just don’t see it. And his motive? Sex with a minor? A few cannabis plants in the greenhouse? So what’s your theory?’
‘They might be in it together,’ Munch suggested, taking a sip of his Farris.
‘Do you want to know what I think?’ Mia said, now knocking her beer back.
‘Yes.’
‘That they told us the truth. Benedikte Riis was obsessed with Paulus. I can see why to some extent: he’s a good-looking, charismatic young man. Camilla arrives, and Paulus takes a fancy to her. They fall in love. They start a relationship. Then Camilla goes missing. Benedikte finds her mobile, sends a text message saying she is fine so nobody will look for her. Then she can have lover boy all to herself.’
‘Just like they told us then?’ Munch said.
‘I think so.’ Mia summoned the waiter and pointed at her empty glass.
