The Forest Lake Mystery
Page 4
Miss Ulla had talked herself red in the face and completely down a blind alley from which she couldn’t escape. It was all very charming, and Holst smiled, which only caused her to become even redder in the face and come to a complete halt. Holst came to her aid.
“You mean thereby that your brother may not have been the most devoted of nurses and that his frail wife has taken offence, but the clouds on the marital sky have now been removed and the credit for that should go to the Captain.”
Ulla nodded.
“Exactly.”
Holst interrupted.
“Excuse me, Miss Ulla, for touching upon a matter which I otherwise wouldn’t have referred to, but you know very well that I don’t find myself in the countryside for the sake of my health like your father.”
Ulla nodded once again.
“Good,” continued Holst. “You’d be doing me a great service if you didn’t mention this case to your brother. I don’t want it discussed in the circles in which he probably moves at home – I have my reasons for this. I would ask you to tell your father on my behalf that it’s important that the case isn’t discussed. Perhaps, should I meet your brother, I can refer to it myself. Will you promise me that?”
Ulla looked extremely solemn and had a great desire to ask questions, but her father had strictly forbidden her to discuss the case with Holst, and besides, from what her housekeeper had said, there was something improper about it all. She thus held her questions back.
They sat in silence for a short while.
“Tell me, Miss Ulla,” said Holst to break the ice, “how have you really dropped into this out-of-the-way spot? It isn’t common for foreigners to find their way out here.”
Ulla greedily grabbed the new topic of conversation and told him in a very lively manner and with great verbosity how they had been at Gammalstorp and how, when matters with the young couple over there had been put in order, they had left haphazardly, having actually decided to go to Rügen or Norderney, but at the last minute, the Captain had suggested Northern Zealand and they had found this excellent place where they would stay until the middle of July.
While Ulla sat there talking, Holst observed her occasionally and noticed how much she resembled her father. The fresh, cheerful face could suddenly become serious, almost sharp, and there was something robust and strong-willed about her movements that totally resembled the Captain’s distinctively energetic bearing and conduct. But she was lovely and Holst thought of Gammalstorp and the very sweet and very wealthy, but not exactly beautiful Emily. They had reached the station.
The train from the south came first and Lieutenant Claes introduced himself – a tall, fair Swede with an exceedingly amiable countenance and prone to bowing a lot. He was one of those Scanian cavalry types who are recognisable wherever one may meet them from the North Pole to the South; not in the least interesting, but very handsome and elegant.
Ulla introduced Lieutenant Holst as a friend of Pappa upon which Claes von Ankerkrone bowed favourably. He was no doubt longing for a refreshing drink and a private conversation with Ulla, so when the train arrived from the north, Holst hurriedly left the two siblings to it.
On the journey into town he continued thinking about Ulla. It wasn’t until arriving at Gentofte that he remembered the suitcase, but he shrugged it off in favour of daydreaming.
VI
The next day at three o’clock Holst presented himself to his superiors at police headquarters, his heart pounding with nervous excitement. Something very strange had happened to him. In the morning, he had approached the lost and found office of the railway corporation and through inspecting the depot lists, he had found ‘a suitcase with various items of women’s clothing’, dated 28th March. When he had the suitcase brought out, it turned out to be a lightly woven wicker suitcase, with two handles but no lock; the size of a standard man’s suitcase. It contained a complete set of women’s clothes, from inner to outer – just a single set – underclothes, coordinated outfit, boots, hat – in short, everything down to garters, but no valuables, such as a watch, and in addition, a half-full cognac bottle and a small glass.
Holst had almost been overwhelmed by his discovery. He seemed to see in it a portent that he really would succeed in reaching his goal, but to arm himself against any hasty action, he instructed the railway official to maintain a steadfast silence about the find and immediately set off to police headquarters to make the necessary arrangements.
The chief of police was just as profoundly affected by the discovery as Holst. Of course, they had to investigate whether the clothes he had found fitted the dead body, but there was from the outset a high probability that they were on the right track, especially as the suitcase had been found abandoned in an incoming train from Elsinore and only contained one complete set of women’s attire of very luxurious elegance and quality. They proceeded immediately to making a list of the discovered items, a list that was checked on the spot by Holst’s superior officer before being handed over to the investigating magistrate along with the suitcase.
The suitcase itself was, as mentioned, made of woven reeds, rectangular in shape, two feet long by sixteen inches high and twelve inches broad across the bottom. It looked completely new, but was not equipped with any brand name that might betray where it was purchased or manufactured.
It contained a half bottle bearing a Hennessy & Co. label, half full of cognac, in addition to a very cheap glass, apparently acquired for use while travelling. The cognac bottle with its contents would be the subject of a special examination to ascertain whether poison had been added to the contents, which, if the discovery was linked with the murder, was likely. In addition, the suitcase contained:
a black straw hat with braiding in a fashion that was particularly used by English ladies, with two ostrich feathers crossed in front on the brim, and bearing a label with the name Jean Tissot, Rue Rivoli, Paris.
a black, silk-lined jacket of strong English cloth labelled Redfern, London.
a grey silk blouse, trimmed with black lace and silk embroidery, lined with silk and labelled Jules Biester, Berlin.
a smooth, black cloth skirt with a silk lining without trim, labelled Redfern, London.
a thick petticoat with sewn pleats, of yellow silk without label.
an embroidered fish-bone corset, richly trimmed with lace and silk ribbons, and with a fairly long waist, labelled Bon Marché, Paris.
linen and underwear etc. richly trimmed with lace and interleaved with silk braid and a pair of brown silk stockings.
a pair of thick, brown boots with low heels, labelled in the leather inside, John Clifford, Strand, London.
a pair of gloves labelled Ricotti, Milano.
a pocket handkerchief with lace, embroidered with ‘A. C.’ and a smaller handkerchief embroidered with ‘Annie’ with a crown, and finally a set of garters of ordinary, slightly worn elastic that contrasted somewhat with the other particularly exquisite linen. The clips were stamped with the easily legible lettering: ‘A. Vikander. Västra Storgatan 17, Kristianstad’ and underneath ‘Silver Medal at Stockholm Exhibition 1897’.
Nothing else was found, but it was no small find anyway.
First, they had to examine whether the clothes fitted the corpse, which Holst immediately wanted to test as soon as he came back, since the body had been subjected to suitable treatment so that it wouldn’t undergo any process that prevented its presence during the investigation. They would also have to investigate if any clues to identify it could be ascertained from the discovered articles.
Holst carefully reviewed the discovery with his superior and they were agreed that the information considerably reinforced Holst’s hypothesis about the victim’s standing and circumstances. Judging by the revealed luxury, the dead woman was probably a lady who had had easy access to money. The peculiar combination of the finest English and German dressmakers with little-known merchants in three European capitals coupled with the strange fact that one handkerchief was embroider
ed ‘A. C.’ and the other ‘Annie’ under a crown, considerably reinforced the propounded theory.
The most interesting find, however, was the garters, because if they succeeded in following this trail, which led to such an obscure, out-of-the-way city like Kristianstad, it should be easy enough to work out the dead woman’s identity, in which case it would only be a matter of time before the murderer was detected.
It would surely be highly unlikely that a woman whose clothes came from Redfern’s famous salon in London, and whose blouse was designed by a certain Jules Biester, Unter den Linden, would travel to Kristianstad to acquire a pair of garters and later add these tacky elastic bands to her European splendour. It had to be a far more realistic course of events that a wanton young Scanian girl had gone out into the world by the side of one or perhaps changing cavaliers; as the journey went from one country to the next, she had gradually changed her feathers from the outside in, eventually retaining only her garters, which were probably a comfortable fit and a reminder of home and the old days.
This hypothesis was perhaps more than realistic and it had the advantage that it offered a solid starting point.
By the time Holst left his head of department to take the return trip, it had been decided that not a word of what had been discovered was to come out in public, in which regard the railway official in question was given very strict instructions. The magistrate was almost beside himself with nervousness and, in the greatest secrecy, he and Holst, accompanied by the county gaoler’s wife, went to the cell in the gaol where the body had been placed under the necessary precautionary measures.
The county gaoler’s wife, who was adept at every kind of task, clothed the corpse, albeit with some difficulty, with the most important of the discovered pieces of clothing, especially the linen, corset, stockings, shoes, gloves and dress, and it turned out, as Holst, incidentally, had not for a moment been in any doubt about, that everything fitted in the most precise way and that the corpse as it lay on the stretcher was what was left on Earth of Annie, a wanton young girl from Kristianstad who had visited most of Europe, only to end her days in a forest north of Elsinore, buried in a marl pit on the edge of a forest and risen from the grave to demand revenge on her murderer. But they maintained their silence about all this and, believe it or not, the people in question could indeed hold their tongues – not a syllable came out.
VII
Lieutenant Claes only stayed a day with his father; he was passing through on his way south. Everything seemed to be well at home and the Captain was very happy over the news from his daughter-in-law, who was staying in a hotel in Copenhagen, waiting to continue the journey.
Holst only caught a glimpse of the Lieutenant; he was very much in doubt about whether or not he should take the opportunity to mention Kristianstad and Annie, but it quickly became apparent to him that it was out of the question. Although it had gone quite smoothly so far, one had to be prepared for the tree not falling at the first blow, and the case wasn’t so simple that one could just start questioning the first available person.
On the other hand, he decided to ask the Captain to grant him a conversation as he had something particularly important to impart.
The Captain met him as usual with his punch and his cigar. He sat in the wicker chair and didn’t even wait for Holst to begin.
“Now then,” he said with a charming smile, “the Lieutenant has found the lady’s suitcase with the lady’s valuables and clothing, and now the Lieutenant knows both where she’s from and what her name is.”
Holst laughed.
“If that were true, sir, what would you say?”
The Captain paused for thought.
“If that were true, I would say that you were the luckiest devil in the three fraternal kingdoms – but it’s obviously not true.”
“Yes, it is,” said Holst triumphantly, “but it’s a deep secret.”
“God preserve us!” said the Captain, not turning a hair. “May one ask the Lieutenant who the murdered lady is then?”
“Annie C – shall we say, Annie Carlson from Kristianstad,” replied Holst in the same tone.
“Was that on the suitcase?” asked the Captain.
Holst shook his head. “The suitcase belongs to the murderer.”
“Really now – perhaps his name is on the suitcase?”
“It isn’t,” said Holst seriously, “but if I have anything to do with it, it will be put on it.”
“I’m sure it will,” said the Captain, looking earnestly at Holst. “You’re one hell of a man – I’m tempted to believe you’re a wizard.”
Holst smiled.
“This is a perfectly natural turn of events – a lucky idea, which has given results. It could just as well have come to nothing, but it worked.”
“Where did you get the name from?”
Holst told him about the clothes and the different labels. The Captain nodded affirmatively and had to admit that it was all very plausible.
“What are you going to do next?” he asked.
“Head for Kristianstad and investigate the world of ladies of easy virtue there. Because I don’t suppose I can get any information about it in the Captain’s house, can I?”
The Captain shook his head and laughed.
“No, sir. I’ve long grown out of that.”
“It’s a shame that Lieutenant Claes von Ankerkrone has left. Perhaps there’d have been a possibility of getting some information from him.”
The Captain suddenly became serious.
“Unfortunately, it is a possibility – but even if my son hadn’t gone away for a long time, I would have asked you not to interview him. I’m afraid that even during the time when he had permission for that kind of thing, he has devoted a great deal of attention and far too much money to the world of easy women. I’ve managed to drag him out of it and I’d be reluctant – for his wife’s sake, extremely reluctant – for this to be stirred up once again.”
Holst almost regretted that he hadn’t spoken to the Lieutenant about Annie – maybe he could have got some first-hand information there – but he said nothing.
“Did the Lieutenant perhaps know any lady of this name?” he asked.
“I don’t know anything about the ladies my son might have known. Fathers usually don’t, do they, Lieutenant?”
Holst bowed.
“I beg the Captain’s forgiveness. I have perhaps touched on a sensitive area – I didn’t know and would ask the Captain to disregard my question.”
“By all means.” The Captain’s face once again became kindly disposed and he raised his glass to Holst. “Your health, Lieutenant, your continued good health. What next?”
“Kristianstad,” replied Holst. “And now I must take this opportunity to thank the Captain for his great kindness towards me during the past few weeks. Now our ways part and God knows when we’ll meet again. So thank you for the time we’ve spent together.”
Holst paused for a moment to think about Miss Ulla and the thought warmed his heart.
The Captain looked very seriously at him.
“It’s not my custom to ignore someone I’ve met,” he said softly, raising his glass. “We two will meet again – or rather, we must meet again. You’re very probably thinking, Lieutenant, that you’re close to your goal, but it could happen that the road to Kristianstad and back will turn out to be quite long. In which case, you must not go past my door without knocking on it. You have in me a friend – you should know that – and people always need friends. Especially when they least think it.”
Holst stood up and went over to the Captain. He held out his hand and spoke with a certain intensity of tone which suited his subdued, somewhat dark voice so well.
“My most heartfelt thanks for our good work together, Captain von Ankerkrone. You may be sure that I won’t forget the friendship you’ve offered me; so sure that no one can be in greater need than I for friendship, for I stand as alone as any man can stand. I don’t forget friendship, any
more than I throw it away blindly, but if I didn’t trust you, sir, as I do, we two wouldn’t be sitting here together on a case which means as much to me as this one does.”
The Captain shook his hand.
“Lieutenant Holst,” he replied softly, almost in a whisper. “We Swedes have a reputation for being bad at what we might call drinking a brotherly toast. I give you my word that on this point I’m not like my countrymen, and so I toast you – in brotherly friendship.”
Holst wasn’t familiar with Swedish customs and as he drank the brotherly toast with the grand old gentleman, whom he had met under such special and strange circumstances, he fell into a solemn, yet warm, mood.
He felt it truly as a kind of consecration of a friendship, upon which he was building more than he was admitting to himself. Holst and the Captain spent that night talking and drinking together, until the day began to brighten in the east, and they parted as two men who had got to know each other and sealed a friendship that would last the best part of a lifetime.
The following day Holst began his journey by following the trail that led from the still, lonely Forest Lake out into the world where people circulate.
Part 2
Annie
I
Who is not familiar with Eslöv Station, the centre of Scania, where rail tracks from all corners of the universe meet, where the barons, tenant farmers and businessmen of Scania cross paths and meet up with friendly nods to the extremely colourful mam’selles at the counters, where red crayfish and brown crispbread beckon, and where the station’s bells toll to hurry travellers to the long, open platform and the ‘snorting steam horse’ – a popular Swedish figure of speech – which will carry the noble members of the Trolle, Bonde, Beck-Friis and Hamilton families in first class and the Perssons, Cettervalls and Lindkvists in second class and distribute them radially out across southern Sweden, even to its remotest parts?