“Perhaps. But I would appreciate it if you told me.”
She shivered as if it was only now she could savor the sharp taste of the rice spirit.
“It was Atle’s father who decided. When the rumors began to spread in connection with his candidacy for party leader, Atle told his father the truth. A week later his father had rewritten his will. It stated that Atle’s share of the family fortune would be in his name, but the right of disposal was transferred to Runa. The right comes into effect when she is twenty-three.”
“And who has the right to the money until then?”
“No one. Which just means it stays in the family business.”
“And what happens now that your husband is dead?”
“Now,” Hilde said, running a finger around the rim of the glass. “Now Runa will inherit all the money. And the right of disposal is transferred to the person with parental rights until she is twenty-three.”
“So, if I understand you correctly that means the money has been released and is at your disposal.”
“Looks like it, yes. Until Runa is twenty-three.”
“Exactly what does right of disposal entail?”
Hilde Molnes shrugged. “I really haven’t thought about it much. I was only told a few days ago. By Hardeid.”
“So this clause about the right of disposal being transferred to you wasn’t something you knew about before?”
“It might have been mentioned. I signed some papers, but this is terribly complicated, don’t you think? Anyway, I never paid any attention before.”
“Didn’t you?” Harry said airily. “I thought you said something about people from Sunnmøre …”
She smiled wanly. “I’ve always been a bad Sunnmøring.”
Harry studied her. Was she pretending she was drunker than she was? He scratched his neck.
“How long have you and Jens Brekke known each other?”
“How long have we been fucking, do you mean?”
“Well, that too.”
“So let’s put this in the right sequence. Let me see …” Hilde Molnes knitted her brows and squinted up at the ceiling. She tried to support her chin on her hand, but it slipped off, and he knew he was wrong. She was as drunk as a skunk.
“We met at Atle’s welcome party two days after arriving in Bangkok. It started at eight, the whole of the Norwegian colony was invited and it took place in the garden in front of the ambassador’s residence. He fucked me in the garage, that must have been two or three hours later, I suppose. I say he fucked me because I was probably so drunk at that point he hardly needed my cooperation. Or consent. But he had it next time. Or the time after, I don’t remember. At any rate, after a few bouts we got to know each other. Was that what you asked? Yes, and since then we’ve continued to get to know each other. We know each other pretty well now. Is that good enough for you, Officer?”
Harry was annoyed. Perhaps it was the way she made a show of her indifference and self-contempt. Anyway, she gave him no reason to continue treating her with silk gloves.
“You said you were at home the day your husband died. Exactly where were you from five o’clock in the evening until you were told he’d been found dead?”
“I don’t remember.”
She screeched with laughter. It sounded like a raven screaming in a quiet forest, and Harry could see they had started to attract attention. For a moment she almost fell off her chair, until she regained her balance.
“Don’t look so worried, Officer. I have an alibi, you see. Isn’t that what it’s called? Yes, indeed, a fantastic alibi, I can tell you. I think my daughter will be willing to testify that I was unable to move much that evening. I remember opening a bottle of gin after dinner and my guess is I fell asleep, woke up, had another drink, fell asleep, woke up and so on. You understand, I’m sure.”
Harry understood.
“Anything else you wanted to ask, Hole?”
She drawled the two vowels in his name, not much, but enough to provoke him.
“Just if you killed your husband, fru Molnes.”
In one astonishingly quick, supple movement she grabbed the glass, and before he could stop her he felt it brush against his ear and heard it smash against the wall behind them. She grimaced.
“You might not believe it after that, but I was the top scorer for Ørsta Girls 14–16 Division.” Her voice was calm, as though she had already put what happened behind her. Harry looked at the frightened faces that had turned toward them.
“Sixteen years old, that’s an awfully long time ago. I was the best-looking girl in … hm, I’ve probably already told you that. And I had curves, not like now. A girlfriend and I used to go into the referees’ changing room accidentally on purpose, wearing tiny towels, and say we’d gone in the wrong door on the way from the shower. All for the team of course. But I don’t think it had much effect on the referees. They were probably wondering why we were having a shower before the game.”