Love Child
The marriage, births and deaths register exhibited a distinct shortage of family names. Kirstin was pleased that Louise Petersen had married Hendrik Magnusson. There weren’t too many Magnussons on Bornholm Island. Otherwise, the task of locating Olaf’s family would have been far more difficult.
She looked over Humphrey’s shoulder and watched as he sifted through the information of the computer screen. The Hansens were there in profusion. She guessed he was researching his own family. They weren’t hard to find and he soon brought up his own birth certificate.
Father: Unknown.
She remembered filling in the form in the old-fashioned script she learnt as the child of a missionary family in China. She was twenty and a naïve little virgin until deflowered on the backseat of a Volvo, down by the harbour, near to the hotel where they were now staying.
Humphrey was conceived on that fateful night. Her lover went by the name of Andy and played in a band. That was as much as she knew about him.
Humphrey ran the stylus over the document. Kirstin guessed he had seen it before. She wondered if he thought it contained information that he had somehow missed. Her son seemed grieved that he had never known his father. The other tragedy in his life was that his wife had died while their daughter was still a baby. Lizzie had never known her mother.
He flicked back to the Magnussons.
‘Ooh! Olaf was a love child.’
‘Are you sure?’
‘Apparently so. Louise Petersen married Hendrik Magnusson five months before Olaf was born. There aren’t many Magnussons on Bornholm and even fewer Olafs.’
‘When did Hendrik die?’
‘April 2 1970. Olaf would have been ten at the time.’
‘That checks with what Louise told me.’
‘It does more than that, Mother. April 2 is the day after Flight-145 went missing. Louise said Olaf phoned her. He always does on the anniversary of his father’s death because he knows she feels particularly lonely. She asked if he could come and see her and he said he might be able to squeeze in a daytrip … then someone shut him up.’
‘Louise thought he was in England.’
‘It doesn’t matter where he was,’ Humphrey rummaged in his jacket pocket. ‘Olaf was close enough to make a daytrip. That means he was no longer in South Africa.’
He produced a label and placed it on the table.
‘I removed this magnificent item from Louise Magnusson’s prize proteas. They are top quality blooms. Date stamps record that they were picked on March 28 and dispatched that same day by air from Cape Town.’
He turned over the label and read from the back.
‘To my darling mother with all my love.’
‘Is it in Olaf’s handwriting?’
‘Yes. I’ve checked it out. He must have purchased the flowers from the florist at the airport. Charlie’s informants are adamant that there is no other way to get that particular label. That means Olaf must have been at the airport on the morning of March 28. They examined CCTV videos and made a possible identification.
They think Olaf is the mysterious person, in a woolly hat and dark glasses, who left the VIP lounge and entered the florist shop. He was sought after by a smartly-dressed couple accompanied by a young woman in the uniform of a security guard. The trio located the man in the hat, shortly after he left the florists, and hustled him back into the lounge.’
’Do we know the identity of any of these people.’
‘We do, Mother. The smartly dressed couple are none other than Senor and Senora Mendez-Klein from Columbia. They are the parents of Mario Mendez-Klein.’
‘The young man Anna and Carla are fighting over?’
‘The very same!’
Humphrey threw out his hand triumphantly. Charlie says that Mario has been reunited with his mum and dad. They flew in on their private jet with the man in the woolly hat and are now back in South Africa. They will be joining the other distinguished guests who are gathering at the Flamingo. Petra de Villiers will be there, representing her father, and David will be there, teaching people how to dive. Charlie thinks he’s in for a bit of a rough ride.