INTERROGATION OF AGNES HAUGEN,
MORNING OF 1 YEAR AND 28 DAYS
AFTER THE DAY, FRIDAY, JUNE 4
A media firestorm broke out during the two days after the arrest of Gunnar Haugen. The headlines said it all: IS IT MURDER? ARRESTED FATHER WILL NOT SPEAK ON KARL HAUGEN CASE SAYS DEFENSE LAWYER.
Most of the tram’s passengers in the 7:15 AM commute on Line 18 into downtown Oslo were reading newspapers with the latest about the Karl Haugen case. Those who were not reading about the arrest managed to steal a glance at the man who got on the tram and walked straight into a pole near the compartment’s middle doors. He bounced off the pole and kept on walking as if in a trance.
“Drunk at this hour in the morning,” said an elderly woman loudly. “Imagine that at his age.”
But the man was not drunk. It was Sohlberg lost in thought and oblivious to his surroundings. He always got that way at the end of every investigation when all the loose ends had to be tied down and fully explained. Sohlberg was legendary for his absent-mindedness when thinking about how to wrap up an investigation.
One question after the other swirled in Sohlberg’s mind.
How much did Gunnar Haugen know about the facts leading to his son’s kidnaping?
How much did the man know about the kidnaping itself?
Why did Karl’s father refuse to make any statements against his wife Agnes Haugen with respect to the disappearance of his son?
Most other parents would have cooperated with the police when confronted with evidence that their spouse is likely to be involved in a crime against a stepchild. But not Gunnar Haugen.
Why didn’t Gunnar Haugen implicate Agnes Haugen after he was arrested and given plenty of chances to finger her as the main suspect in his son’s disappearance?
Did the father and stepmother act together in the boy’s disappearance?
Was one of them perhaps an after-the-fact accessory?
Why did Gunnar Haugen have an acid disposal barrel that was more the right size for a large adult body than for a small child’s body?
Sohlberg was jolted back into reality when the tram braked to a complete stop at the Oslo Sentralstasjon or Central S Station. He stepped out into downtown Oslo’s loveliest boulevard the Karl Johans gate and walked towards its northern end. Tree leaves shimmered in the gentle end-of-summer sunlight. Strollers cast wary looks at the man with a pinched face and narrow eyes and an enormous flopping raincoat. His mind churned over the case facts. He tried to connect all the facts together to make sense of the kidnaping of Karl Haugen.
How could someone as smart and educated as Gunnar Haugen have made so many obvious and dumb mistakes in marrying and staying married to Agnes Haugen?
Sohlberg was surprised at the immense pity he felt for Gunnar Haugen. The man reminded him of so many others who mistakenly think that their education and their income and their titles and their success outside the home would render them immune to failure inside the home.
What wise man had once said, No success outside the home can compensate for failure in the home?
Was it David O. McKay from Utah?
Sohlberg wondered if the man had instead perhaps said, No other success can compensate for failure in the home.
Regardless of the exact words the underlying thought bothered Sohlberg.
Had he been too quick to seek success at the expense of his first wife Karoline?
Sohlberg remembered the many many evenings and nights and weekends and holidays that he had abandoned Karoline to stay working at the law firm. He then remembered how often he had also abandoned Emma and their now-dead son when he investigated crimes.
After bumping into a group of tourists Sohlberg looked up and was shocked to see Det kongelige slott or the Royal Palace up on the hill. Sohlberg muttered a curse when he realized that he had missed his turn and was now far off course. Even more embarrassing he got lost in thought again and took several wrong turns as he tried to find his way back to the police offices at 12 Hammersborggata.
The increasingly agitated Sohlberg walked up and down the narrow and odd-angled and confusing streets for almost 30 minutes before someone kindly pointed him to the corner of Hammersborggata and Torggata.
As soon as he got out of the elevator the receptionist pointed Sohlberg to Ivar Thorsen’s office.
Commissioner Thorsen sat behind his desk smug and preening. He said in the most patronizing way possible:
“Sohlberg you’ve done good. An arrest so soon! Excellent. Excellent. I knew you’d pull the proverbial rabbit out of the old hat. Good job. Good job.”
“Not so fast.”
“What?. . Oh you’re always so. . so. . how shall I say it?. . Nitpicky?. . Crossing your t’s and dotting your i’s. Alright. Go ahead. You deserve it in this case. Besides. . we’d like to get a rock solid conviction on the father.”
“Look Thorsen. . we may have found bottles of acid. . and a large barrel to store acid waste at the barn. . all plastered with Gunnar Haugen’s fingerprints. But that doesn’t prove by a long shot that Gunnar Haugen kidnaped or killed his own son. Why would he need such a large barrel for such a little boy?”
“Well. . ”
“We also found from Nokia’s records that several mysterious telephone calls were placed to and from Agnes Haugen’s cell phone on the day of the boy’s disappearance. The calls to and from her phone started at around twelve-thirty and ended at about one-thirty in the afternoon.
“Nokia traced the calls from pings on cell phone towers and their records show that all of the calls took place along Sorkedalsveien near Ring 3. . there’s a bunch of stores and businesses down there in Smestad.
“Several calls were placed in or near a furniture store. . Hus and Hage. . where Gunnar and Agnes Haugen did a lot of shopping.”
Thorsen scratched his head and then his groin and said, “Aha. . these calls would support the stepmother’s afternoon alibi. . that she was driving around in the afternoon trying to calm her baby down after she went to the gym.”
“Maybe. Seems that way.”
“Alright then. It’s obvious that the father did it.”
“I don’t know that for sure. Look Thorsen. . you need to let me finish the investigation. . let me nitpick. Seems to me that the father only needed a barrel that was a quarter as large to dispose of Karl Haugen’s little body.
“It looks more to me like he had plans to dispose of an adult body. . but even if that’s what he planned on doing you have to ask yourself. . where’s the body he wanted to put in the large barrel?. . And even more important. . where’s Karl’s body?”
“It’s there Sohlberg. It’s there. Sooner or later we’ll find the boy’s body. I have no doubts he’s somewhere in that farm. Right now we’ve got forty-two police officers and crime scene investigators out there at the grandfather’s farm. We’ve dug up the barn. We already found the boy’s lunch pack. . a key item that you noticed was missing from the boy’s backpack. Really. . what more do we need?”
“Anyone could have put the boy’s lunch box out there. . matter of fact we have cell phone records showing that the stepmother Agnes Haugen was there at the barn one month before the boy’s disappearance. Seems she forgot to turn off her cell phone. . it rang and sent a ping off a cell tower near the barn.”
“Her husband could’ve gotten the call at the farm with her phone.”
“Nope. At the time he was traveling on a long business trip with another Nokia manager.”
Thorsen frowned. “Well then why in the world did you arrest the father if you haven’t finished the investigation?”
“Because the arrest is part of the investigation. . the father’s arrest will set off a chain reaction on the part of the other suspects. . especially the stepmother. . as I told Constable Wangelin. . to get a cold case to full boil you need to turn up the heat and concentrate it where it’ll get results.”
“The arrest of the father is more like a blowtorch.”
“You said I could use any means. . do whatever it took to solve this case. . right?”
“Ja. But be careful Sohlberg. . because if you fail. . you’re on your own.”
“I see that nothing has changed.”
“Obviously not when I see that you’re playing with fire again Sohlberg.”
Constable Wangelin drove Sohlberg straight to the residence of Agnes and Gunnar Haugen on Ryghs vei. A short distance from the Haugen house Constable Wangelin stopped the car at the corner of Ankerveien and Ryghs vei to review one more time with Sohlberg the phone records of Agnes Haugen and the timeline for Agnes Haugen and Danica Knutsen on that fateful June fourth. They also went over reams of other information that Wangelin had mined from the massive amounts of material in the binders at the Karl Haugen room back at headquarters.
“One more thing Chief Inspector.”
“Yes?”
“You asked me to look into Agnes Haugen’s statement that she used her husband’s pickup on June fourth because Karl’s science project would not fit in her Audi sports car. I measured the car. . and it turns out that his exhibit could have fit in the back with room to spare.”
“Ja. How interesting,” said Sohlberg slowly as his eyes got that misty far-away look that he was famous for when he was about to tackle and try to solve the most complicated aspects of a crime. “Ja. I think we’re ready to pay Agnes Haugen a visit.”
Secluded and surrounded by trees and pasture at the end of a long private driveway the massive Haugen home could have just as easily have been in the middle of a remote rural area. Sohlberg noted that Karl’s school was less that 2,500 feet northwest of the Haugen household.
Constable Wangelin pointed and said, “Ah look there she is. . ”
Agnes Haugen sat on the grass in her bikini bottom and she read a celebrity magazine while sunbathing topless by the side of her enormous two-story home. Wangelin was sure that Sohlberg had not noticed the woman’s exposed breasts so Wangelin scooted ahead of him and warned Agnes Haugen to put on her bikini top which came on the implanted Vesuviuses one second before Sohlberg came upon them.
Frowning Sohlberg said rather sternly:
“Fru Haugen. . since we’re not here for a picnic shall we move inside your house where we can all sit down in more formal surroundings?”
“Why of course. Whatever you say.”
Sohlberg was not surprised that the expensive home was decorated with gaudy furniture and tasteless accessories which all shouted one thing: “Look at how rich we the Haugens are and you’re not.”
They sat in on an enormous oversize sofa covered with a faux tiger-stripe fabric.
“I’m glad I’m meeting you at last Fru Haugen. I’m Chief Inspector Sohlberg and this is Constable Wangelin whom you’ve met before.”
“Where’s Nilsen? Isn’t he in charge of the case anymore?”
“No. He’s been permanently removed.” Sohlberg was disappointed that her face showed no expression at that bit of news. “I’m in charge now and I’ve been assigned to bring this case to a close. . to a final resolution. In other words to an arrest and a conviction. . ending in a prison cell for the monster who took Karl Kaugen.”
“Is that so?”
Sohlberg studied her demeanor and saw nothing but the fading looks of an unhappy 40-year old suburban housewife whose stone-cold poker face betrayed absolutely no worry or fear.
“Ja. . I will arrest the shameless monster who killed Karl Haugen. . that innocent little boy.”
Sohlberg’s last sentence sent a shadow of worry across her face.
Or was it anger?
Or sorrow?
If she had sorrow then for whom?
Sohlberg waited for the next move from Agnes Haugen. He desperately wanted to see if she would open the door he had just presented to her. If she went along with him and did not object to his stating that Karl Haugen had been killed then she was the culprit or she knew who had killed the boy.
“Did you say killed?. . Is he dead?” Agnes Haugen spoke barely above a whisper. Then she got louder as she firmly rejected the trap offered by Sohlberg. “Did you find a body?. . I can’t believe he’s dead. No. It can’t be.”
“Karl is dead.”
“How. . when?” Tears welled up in her enormous blue eyes.
“We’ll get to that later,” said Sohlberg who was fuming and at the same time admiring the brilliant ease with which Agnes Haugen had cleverly evaded his first trap.
“How can this be?” said Agnes Haugen. “How can Karl be dead?”
Sohlberg offered Agnes Haugen his second trap. He invited her to open the door that would lead to her husband’s conviction. He said:
“Fru Haugen. . I’m here to gather evidence to convict your husband in the kidnaping and murder of his son. . the minor Karl Haugen.”
“You’ve already decided it’s Gunnar?”
Agnes Haugen reminded him of a mouse sniffing the bait on the trap. Sniffing but not nibbling. “I don’t decide anything Fru Haugen. . the evidence decides for me.”
“What’s the evidence?”
Sohlberg almost smiled. He was surprised at her cleverness and boldness. Parry and thrust.
“That’s not a matter for your consideration Fru Haugen. . is it?. . Unless of course you yourself have. . ”
Sohlberg said nothing more. He threw a blank look at Agnes Haugen and then he set up his third trap — the silent treatment.
Seventeen very uncomfortable minutes passed by in complete silence. Sohlberg had used this silent treatment quite effectively over the years. More than 2/3rds of all homicide suspects had started talking to Sohlberg out of nervousness and guilt when he gave them the silent treatment. Talkative suspects soon progressed from small talk to asking questions or making comments and their questions or comments always led to damaging admissions or confessions of the full or partial variety.
Agnes Haugen fidgeted when minutes 18 and then 19 and 20 came and went by. She could stand it no longer and suddenly blurted out:
“Well. . what’s this all about?. . What do you want?”
“Fru Haugen. . don’t you know what this is all about?. . This is all about a little boy. . your stepson. Remember him?”
“Ja. Of course.”
“Then why ask me what this is all about?. . Don’t you know Fru Haugen that it’s all about Karl Haugen and not about you?. . Can you. . for a minute. . stop thinking about yourself?. . Don’t you see?. .
“It’s all about an innocent and defenseless boy who did not deserve to have his life cut so short. It’s all about a little seven-year-old boy who became an inconvenience to his father and his mother and then to you the stepmother.”
Agnes Haugen looked away but only to stare impassively out the window as impassively as if Sohlberg had been boring her with a dull sales pitch for a new Electrolux vacuum cleaner. Sohlberg’s anger exploded. He even surprised himself when he yelled:
“Fru Haugen!. . This case is all about a shy little boy who changed his science fair project to the red-eye tree frog just to please you.”
“Wait just a minute. . both my husband and I made that decision. It was not just to please me.”
“That’s not what your husband says.” Sohlberg studied her reaction to his fourth trap — creating conflict between the spouses. “He says that you forced Karl to abandon his project on icebergs. The little boy loved icebergs and he wanted to report on them at the science fair. But you did not let him. Why would you do that Fru Haugen?”
Agnes Haugen sat poker-faced and said nothing to the seemingly trivial question that had been increasingly bothering Sohlberg for reasons that he could not describe.
“So Fru Haugen. . please tell me. . why did Karl switch his science exhibit from icebergs to red-eye tree frogs?”
Silence. He was impressed by her cunning intelligence. She had walked away from the fourth trap as quickly and cleverly as she had walked away from all his other traps. Sohlberg felt embarrassed at how easily she was defeating him. He decided to confront her with the evidence.
“Fru Haugen. . please read the timeline that Constable Wangelin is handing you. It details on a minute-by-minute basis your whereabouts that Friday June fourth. Take your time reading it. Let me know if anything is wrong with the information. If you don’t point out any errors then we will assume it’s correct.”
After ten minutes Agnes Haugen said, “It seems to be right.”
“Good. Now if you will please look at the time when you say you left Karl at the school. You say you left him and the school at about nine in the morning. . right?”
“Ja.”
“Then you drove around looking to buy medicines for your sick baby.”
“Ja.”
“After driving around and stopping at two stores you then drove back home.”
“Ja.”
“That’s when you posted Karl’s science fair pictures on Facebook.”
“Ja.”
“Then you picked up your sick baby and went with the sick baby to the gym from eleven-twenty to twelve-twenty.”
“Ja.”
“All this in your husband’s white pickup truck?’
“Ja.”
“Why?”
“Why what?”
Sohlberg again found himself almost smiling at the stepmother’s crafty evasions. “Fru Haugen. . why did you drive your husband’s pickup when you have your own car. . the red Audi sports car?”
“I don’t know. . I guess I like the pickup more for driving the baby around town.”
“Even though the baby was sick?”
“I wanted to give my husband a break. . he needed some time to do work from home on the computer. So I took the baby with me to the gym.”
“Was that his idea?” said Sohlberg who again offered her the door to start incriminating her husband.
“I. . I guess so.”
She had opened the door. He wondered if she’d step in all the way through the proffered door. Sohlberg said almost causally:
“Was it his idea to not go into work that day. . and stay at home?”
“I’m not his boss. He does whatever he wants when it comes to his work at Nokia.”
“Speaking of his work at Nokia. . I noticed that he travels quite a bit for them all over Europe and the United States.”
“Ja.”
“On one of those trips. . a month before Karl disappeared. . you took a call on your cell phone at a farm that belonged to your husband’s grandfather.”
Her eyes glazed over. He had finally caught her off balance. He could see her thinking and trying to stay one step ahead of him. She lapsed into silence.
“Ja Fru Haugen. We know all about that call. . a call that you did not answer but that your cell phone picked up when you were at the farm.”
“I lend my phone out quite a lot.”
“Oh really?. . Who got your loaner cell phone on May third of last year?”
“I don’t remember. . I might have lent the phone to my husband’s brother.”
Sohlberg almost nodded but not in agreement but rather in amazement at how subtle she was in now trying to drag in her husband’s brother into the short list of suspects.
“Your husband’s brother?”
“Ja.”
“The one who got arrested for molesting a teenage girl?”
“Ja. That one.”
“The one who said his grandfather raped him and your husband in the barn?”
“Ja.”
“But why would you lend him your phone when he has no real relationship with you. . I understand he’s only met you once or twice during the past five years.”
“Gunnar’s family are leeches. . they want our money. . they smooch off of us all the time.”
“You mean his family wants his money. . don’t you?”
“Well yes. I’m on unemployment.”
“Let’s see if I got this right. . are you telling me that you lent your cell phone to your husband’s brother?”
“Ja. I must have.”
“And you’re telling me that your brother-in-law was at his grandfather’s farm when he got a call from one of your friends?”
“Ja. He must have.”
“That’s going to be rather difficult because your husband’s brother was down in Copenhagen that week with his girlfriend and her family.”
“He could’ve lent my phone to someone else.”
“Like who?”
“I don’t know. Ask my brother-in-law. Who knows what shady characters he lent my phone to. . ”
“We have. He’s never borrowed or used your phone or your husband’s.”
“Then I don’t know what to tell you.”
“How about the truth?”
“I’ve told you the truth.”
“So you say. Tell me Fru Haugen. . how is it that the neighbors happened to have seen your car in the farm on the day that your cell phone received that call?”
“My car?”
Agnes Haugen looked slightly confused.
Had she forgotten whose car she had driven up to the Haugen farm to plant the lunch box in the barn? Or was she merely pretending to be confused so as to force Sohlberg into revealing exactly which car the neighbors had seen at the Haugen farm?
“Yes. Your car.”
“I don’t think so Detective. Not my car.”
“Oh. . did you think Fru Haugen that I was referring to your red Audi sports car?. . No. I was referring to your husband’s white pickup. . which you drove to Grindbakken Skole. . Pilot Hill elementary school. . with Karl the day that he disappeared.”
“I rarely drive that car.”
“The neighbors at the farm saw you. . a redhead with long hair. . driving your husband’s white pickup truck.”
“My husband must have taken another woman up there with him.”
“I doubt it.”
“He’s no saint.”
“Are you Fru Haugen?”
“What are you implying?”
“I’m not implying anything. I’m letting you know the facts. . the evidence. . you drove the white pickup truck to the farm.”
“Have you considered my husband?”
“Ja. . but he was traveling with another Nokia executive in rather distant locations. Now I’d like you to tell me why someone other than you would take your cell phone up to a farm owned by your husband’s grandfather?”
“I don’t know. . ”
“Did you know Fru Haugen that several neighbors also remember seeing your red Audi sports car up there several times in the months of April and May of last year?”
“I lend my car out quite a lot.”
“Who got your loaner car on May third of last year?”
“I don’t remember. . like I said. . I lend my car a lot.”
Constable Wangelin threw Sohlberg a look that said, “You see! I told you that the Haugens make the unnatural seem normal.”
“Fru Haugen. . why would someone take your car up to a farm owned by your husband’s grandfather?”
“I don’t know. . ”
Sohlberg leaned forward as if he was actually throwing her such a difficult curve ball that she would not be able to return his volley. He said:
“How did your stepson’s lunch box wind up buried in the farm that once belonged to your husband’s grandfather?”
Sohlberg would later write down in his final report to the prosecutor that a smile briefly crossed Agnes Haugen’s face when he told her about the lunch box. During the interview however Sohlberg was not sure if she had indeed smiled.
After a long pause Agnes Haugen said:
“That’s a good question.”
Agnes Haugen’s brilliant response left Sohlberg dumbfounded. He had rarely met a suspect who could make such unresponsive and evasive answers to his questions while at the same time leading him on to other suspects. Sohlberg fell back on his time-tested question of ‘Why?’
“Fru Haugen. . why is it a good question?”
Another long pause. “Because the farm is where my husband and his brother were raped by their grandfather.”
Sohlberg let out a short and silent sigh. She had finally opened and walked through the door to incriminate her husband. “So you think that is linked to your stepson’s disappearance?”
“You could say so.”
He admired her sly response. He offered her another door to further implicate her husband. “Actually. . Fru Haugen. . he was not their real grandfather. . right?”
“Ja.”
“Your husband and his brother were adopted. . were they not. . after being abandoned by their birth parents?”
“Ja.”
“Abandoned. . thrown away like garbage by the birth parents. . and then abandoned a second time by their adoptive parents. . who left them in the hands of the predator grandfather. Abandonment. . that’s life for the adopted.”
“Ja. . I know it first-hand because I too was adopted.”
“So. . Fru Haugen. . do you think that your husband or his brother or both of them took and killed your stepson Karl because your husband or his brother were abandoned and molested?”
“You could say that. I couldn’t.”
“Why not?”
“I. . I’m not qualified. . am I?. . I’m not a detective. I’m not a shrink. I studied to be a teacher. . not a psychologist or a psychiatrist. . or a detective like you.”
Sohlberg’s had never felt as frustrated by a suspect’s answers. It was time to throw her another curve ball to keep her off balance. He shrugged and said:
“Ja. . Fru Haugen. . you are not trained as a psychologist. . psychiatrist. . or detective. But you are trained as a teacher. Is that why you taught Karl Haugen sign language?”
For the second time Sohlberg saw a dark and sharp look of worry or anger cross the soft almost chubby peaches-and-cream complected face of Agnes Haugen.
Her silence triggered another Sohlberg inquiry. “Fru Haugen. . why did you teach sign language to a boy who was not deaf or hearing impaired?”
“My husband and I thought it would be a good learning experience that would prepare Karl for school. . and increase his learning capacity. Some parents have their children learn music at an early age for the same reasons. We just happened to pick sign language.”
Sohlberg had finally caught her in a lie. Gunnar Haugen and everyone else had e-mails and other documents showing that Agnes Haugen was the only person who had decided to teach sign language to Karl. The lie would be useful in a prosecution. Therefore Sohlberg did not ask the follow-up question that he desperately wanted to ask Agnes Haugen as to whether she had in fact taught sign language to her stepson so that they could communicate in secret without anyone else knowing what she was telling the boy.
Sohlberg stared at Agnes Haugen. He switched his line of questioning back to the timeline to keep her off balance. “Fru Haugen. . let’s go back to the timeline for your whereabouts on June fourth. . Exactly where did you go from twelve-twenty when you left the gym to two o’clock when your husband saw you in the house after he came back from buying his lunch?”
“From twelve-twenty to two o’clock?. . I’m sure that I was driving around. . trying to get my baby to sleep.”
The clever evasion irked Sohlberg. “You’re sure you were driving around?. . I need you to be more than sure.”
“That’s the best I can do.”
The double meaning was not lost on Sohlberg who frowned and said:
“Fru Haugen. . where did you drive around?”
“I don’t remember. It was all a blur that day. I just drove around to calm down my baby daughter.”
“Your husband says that he’s never ever seen you driving around to calm the baby or get the baby to sleep.”
“He doesn’t know much. . he’s too busy. . too wrapped up in his work to notice these things at home. He manages a large department at Nokia. . By the way. . have you asked my husband where he was at that time?”
“We have. . it turns out that several closed circuit cameras caught him not just buying his lunch that day but also driving to and from the store.”
“I’m sure Detective that you will find plenty of video evidence that will show exactly where I was during those one-and-a-half hours if you work hard at it. . and treat me just like my husband.”
“Rest assured I will. . but first you must tell me where you went around driving. . did you go to downtown Oslo?. . Or downtown Lillehammer?. . Did you drive in the city or a small town. . or into a rural area. . maybe Lake Bogstad?”
“I don’t remember.”
“Maybe you drove north to Trondheim?”
“I don’t know.”
“Or down south towards Copenhagen?”
“I don’t know.”
“Or did you drive out to Stockholm?”
“I don’t know.”
“Alright. But don’t say that I didn’t try to help you Fru Haugen.”
“How?. . How would you help me?”
“I gave you a chance. . to give me the information that would send your husband to prison. But you decided to play coy with me. You thought I’d come running after your lies and half-truths if you dangled some small piece of information in front of me. Big mistake.”
“Big nothing. . I saw that you Mister Big Detective had already made up your mind. There was nothing I could say. I know your type. You’re the kind of man that makes people lie. . you ask questions that you know will get lies for answers.”
“You should’ve tried telling the truth for once Fru Haugen.”
“I know men like you. . you manipulate women with your questions. . your innuendos.”
“You have anything else to say?”
“No. Not to you. Ever.”
“Fine. Stand up Fru Haugen. You are under arrest. Constable Wangelin. . please handcuff her.”
Three hours later at 12 Hammersborggata Chief Inspector Sohlberg and Constable Wangelin sat down in an interview room with a much more subdued Agnes Haugen.
Like most middle class suspects Agnes Haugen had been humbled if not humiliated by the fingerprinting and the mug shots and the obligatory strip search and the regulation jumpsuit. At Sohlberg’s instructions the guards kept him informed of all of the abuse and insults and taunts and threats of hardened ex-con female prisoners who wanted a piece of the woman arrested for kidnaping the little boy Karl Haugen.
Sohlberg studied Agnes Haugen as gently and carefully as a man inspects a rattlesnake at close range.
“What do you want?” said Agnes Haugen with contempt. “I told you Mister Detective that I would never tell you anything about the case. Never. I want my lawyer.”
“Fru Haugen. . I’m not here to ask you questions or listen to you. You are here to listen and listen good to what I’m going to say.”
“I want my lawyer.”
“He’s on his way. But first you will hear me out.”
Agnes Haugen crossed her arms and hummed a ditty.
“Fru Haugen. . you made several mistakes. . mistakes that will defeat your ultimate plan of framing your husband for your criminal acts. . which include the kidnaping and murder of Karl Haugen.”
“You’re an idiot.”
“Maybe. But you brilliantly planned the kidnaping and murder of that innocent little boy months if not years in advance. Your problem was choosing the wrong accomplice.”