Whale Fjord

Twenty-Four

September 2023

Louisa Sugarman had been dead at least eight hours when her body was discovered just after eleven o’clock in the morning. She had texted Magnus at nine-thirty-two the previous evening. She was still wearing clothes — she hadn’t changed into night things. Which meant she had probably been killed between nine-thirty-five and about midnight that evening.

She had been stabbed twice in the chest. There was no sign of the murder weapon. There was plenty of blood; some of it would probably have transferred on to the murderer. No sign of defensive injuries to the hands or arms.

No sign of a break-in either. It was possible that Louisa had known her killer and let him or her in, but on the other hand, the killer might simply have had a plausible story.

Her purse was still in her handbag, containing a full complement of credit cards and some cash. No sign of a phone.

The flat above was rented out to tourists as well; a couple had gone out for the evening and returned at about eleven-thirty. They hadn’t seen or heard anyone come in, or any commotion on the floor below, which suggested a two-hour window between nine-thirty-five and eleven-thirty for the murder.

There were plenty of Louisa’s own fingerprints in the flat, as well as some of Magnus’s and the woman who cleaned the place. There were also at least six separate unidentified fingerprints, probably from previous tourist occupants. Since the flat was cleaned between each visit, these were few and far between, and the technicians were working on isolating them. There didn’t seem to be any fresh fingerprints on the most likely surfaces that a recent intruder might touch, such as doorknobs.

The most obvious line of inquiry was that Louisa had discovered something the previous day about Neville Pybus-Smith’s death and that someone had wanted to prevent her from telling Magnus. Presumably, it was something Louisa hadn’t known when she had spoken to Magnus earlier that afternoon.

Magnus had left the apartment at about three o’clock. So where had Louisa been between then and nine-thirty-two when she had sent the text to Magnus?

There were plenty of security cameras on Hverfisgata, although none that specifically covered the entrance to the flat. But police officers were checking them for signs of Louisa.

Her rental car was parked in a car park just a couple of blocks away on Saebraut, the road that ran along the bay. More officers were checking whether she had driven it that afternoon and where.

Plenty to do.

After Magnus had set people to do it, he took Vigdís with him to go and see Gudni.

Magnus and Vigdís waited patiently while Gudni poured them both a cup of coffee. It seemed to be taking the old man forever.

‘Now, how can I help you?’ he asked eventually as he sank into his armchair and slurped from his own mug.

‘We’d like to ask you some more questions about Louisa Sugarman.’

‘Yes? I’m not sure there’s much more I can add since I spoke to you yesterday.’

‘Have you seen her since then? Has she been in contact with you?’

‘No.’ Gudni frowned. ‘Did you tell her I saw her father kill my mother?’

Magnus nodded. ‘Yesterday afternoon.’

‘She can’t have been happy to hear that.’

‘She wasn’t,’ said Magnus. ‘That’s why I wondered whether she had been in touch.’

‘Well, she hasn’t. Not yet, at any rate. I suppose you did have to tell her?’

‘We did. She had a right to know.’

Gudni shrugged. ‘Perhaps. She might have been better off not knowing. That’s why I didn’t mention it when she came to see me.’

The unpleasant thought occurred to Magnus that Louisa Sugarman might still be alive if he had decided not to pass on Gudni’s accusation to her.

‘Gudni. Louisa was murdered last night.’

It seemed to take a few seconds for this news to sink in. If it was news.

Gudni frowned. ‘Murdered? Do you know who did it?’

‘Not yet,’ said Magnus. ‘But I’m sure we’ll soon find out.’

‘You think it has something to do with her father killing my mother?’

‘Perhaps.’

‘How?’

Magnus sighed. That was a good question. ‘She sent me a text saying she had some new information for me and she wanted to see me this morning. She never got the chance.’

‘I see.’ Gudni shook his head. ‘I’m sorry, I’ve no idea what that information was.’

‘You told us yesterday that Louisa mentioned a Captain Neville Pybus-Smith?’

‘Yes, she did. She seemed to think he had killed my mother. I didn’t have the heart to tell her she was wrong.’

‘Did she say anything about Pybus-Smith being murdered himself? In London in 1985?’

‘No.’ Gudni’s eyes widened. ‘No, she didn’t.’

‘That’s funny. Because she said yesterday she’d told you.’

‘Did she?’ Gudni’s gaze clouded. ‘She might have done. I don’t know. I wasn’t really listening. I was thinking about what her father had done and whether I should tell her about it. What it would be like knowing you were the daughter of a murderer. Whether that was as bad as being the son of someone who was murdered.’

He shook his head. ‘I shouldn’t have worried about it. She found out from you anyway. And now she’s dead.’

Magnus wondered if Gudni was needling him intentionally. If he was, it was working.

‘Did you talk to your son Bjarni about any of this?’ Vigdís asked.

‘Oh, yes,’ said Gudni. ‘Once I had decided to tell you what really happened back in 1940, I asked him to take me to the police station. I wanted the moral support.’

‘How much did you tell him about Louisa?’

‘Just what I said to you.’

‘And about Neville Pybus-Smith?’

This question caused Gudni to pause. ‘I’m not sure,’ he said eventually.

‘How can you be not sure?’ said Magnus.

Gudni shook his head. ‘I’m not sure about a lot of things these days.’

‘Where were you yesterday evening between nine-thirty and midnight?’

Gudni raised his eyebrows. ‘Do you think I killed her?’

‘Where were you?’ Magnus repeated.

‘Well, I started going to bed about nine. It takes a while to get myself organized these days. I probably turned the light off about ten.’

‘Can anyone confirm that?’

Gudni chuckled. ‘Hard as you might find it to believe this, I went to bed alone, inspector. Like I do every night. And the idea that I murdered anyone is absurd. I’m eighty-nine years of age. I don’t have the strength. I don’t have a gun. How was she killed anyway?’

‘She was stabbed,’ said Magnus.

Gudni shook his head. ‘How exactly would I stab a strong and healthy woman like Louisa? I don’t even know where she was killed. You guys haven’t a clue.’

‘Do you think he’s acting or do you think he’s genuinely confused?’ Vigdís asked as they drove back to the station.

‘I think he’s as sharp as a tack, that one. He knew all about Pybus-Smith’s murder.’

‘But he seemed genuinely surprised by Louisa’s death.’

‘Maybe. Maybe not.’

‘And he’s right,’ Vigdís said. ‘I can’t see him physically overcoming Louisa, even with a knife.’

‘He could have caught her by surprise,’ said Magnus. ‘Look, we don’t have any evidence yet that he killed her. But I’m damned sure he’s hiding something. Let’s get a warrant for his phone records and to search his apartment and examine his clothes. We also need to talk to his son. We should put in a formal request for the case file on Pybus-Smith’s murder from London.’

‘What about the journalist who broke the story? Amanda Wicker? We could try to track her down.’

‘We could indeed.’