Free Satellite People by Hans Olav Lahlum

house. He was the one who came running
across the lawn, overjoyed, to wake us with the news that the Germans had capitulated and that all our suffering was over. I remember thinking to myself that the sun had never shone so brilliantly
on Norway as it did that morning. Ole Kristian left us for a few hours, and then the light vanished just as suddenly from my life. And it has never returned. It feels as though I have been living
in a twilight ever since, even on the brightest summer day.’
    Mrs Wendelboe once again fell silent and sat motionless on the sofa. It was a relief when her husband finally came to her rescue.
    ‘It was an extremely sad and emotional experience for us all. It happened that very afternoon. We’d set about preparing a celebratory meal. Ole Kristian had gone to sort out a few
things, but had promised to be back by three. It was an unusual day, of course, but we started to get a bit anxious when half past three came and went without any sign of him. At a quarter to four,
we sighed with relief when Magdalon Schelderup’s big black car swung into view down the road. We assumed that Ole Kristian was with him. But our joy was short-lived. We could soon see that
Magdalon was alone in the car and that he was driving towards us at a dangerous speed. My wife took my hand and said that something was wrong, even before Magdalon stopped the car. We could see
from his face that something ghastly had happened. Magdalon was not a man who was easily moved, but on that day his emotional turmoil was clear to all. He came over to us and embraced us, told us
that there had been a terrible accident and that Ole Kristian was dead.’
    Now, almost twenty-five years later, time had once again stopped for Mrs Wendelboe. Even her tears had stopped falling and she sat as if petrified. Her husband gently took her arm before he
continued.
    ‘The accident had involved a gunshot, he told us, and the circumstances were indeed deeply unfortunate. Magdalon and Ole Kristian had driven to the home of a dead Nazi with a younger
member of the group, to secure his property and papers. The police arrived at the same time and there were no enemies present. However, Ole Kristian had still fallen victim to a fatal gunshot
inside the house, which had been fired by the younger man from our group. Magdalon felt frightfully guilty and apologized profusely for having taken the young man with them. But I was the one who
had accepted him into the group, so we were both to blame. The man had seemed so sincere and well-intentioned, but we should of course have realized how weak and mentally unbalanced he was in those
final weeks of the war. It is strange to think how different things might have been had I realized that.’
    Now it was Wendelboe’s turn to sit in silence and his wife’s to reach out her hand and stroke him. But it was he who took up the story again, his voice sharp and concise.
    ‘The case was clear enough. The man was standing with the gun in his hand when the police came in. Magdalon himself had been in the room and seen him fire the shot, and the man’s
statement was so incredible that no one could believe it. He was declared of unsound mind in the court case and has apparently spent much of the rest of his life in an asylum. So we just had to
accept that it was the work of a madman, no matter how odd it all seemed. But whatever the case, it was a great loss to us which has been difficult to live with.’
    I nodded with understanding and put down my notebook. I had more detailed questions about Magdalon Schelderup’s war experiences, but first wanted to check the police report about Ole
Kristian Wiig’s death for myself.
    In conclusion, I asked as a matter of procedure whether the Wendelboes had reason to suspect any of those present of the murder. They both hesitated and then said that Magdalon Schelderup had
been a very forceful and complex person who might have been in conflict with many of the people around