‘What kind of person is he?’ asked Svava.
‘I don’t know,’ said Erlendur. ‘Disturbed, obviously, but pathetic too. He said he wasn’t always like that. Perhaps the secret in the garage gradually warped him into what he’s become today.’
‘How’s it possible? How could he have kept it secret? Their next-door neighbour!’
‘I don’t kn—’
‘Why wasn’t the man ever investigated?’
‘It’s not a crime to live alone and shut yourself off from the world.’
‘Perhaps he lived too close to her,’ said Svava. ‘It didn’t occur to anybody that she could be in the house next door. Nobody dreamt of such a thing. That she could have vanished only a few yards from home.’
‘Yes, of course, it was highly improbable. He … he says he loved her and I think there’s a grain of truth in that. In his own peculiar way he did love her.’
‘I don’t believe that for a minute,’ said Svava. ‘As for that business with the car … Who would do such a thing? Why did he keep …?’
‘Obviously Rasmus is very ill,’ said Erlendur, ‘and I don’t know how far to trust what he says, but he claims it was all he could think of. He couldn’t bear to bury her in the garden. And he was proud of how well he’d looked after the car. Says he polished it lovingly at least once a month.’
‘Dagbjört’s coffin.’
‘He says he did it for her. But he never went inside the car. In all those years. He drew the line at that.’
‘The poor, darling girl,’ sighed Svava. ‘I’ve been trying to come to terms with what happened, what became of her, but I … I just can’t.’
‘No, I can well understand that.’
‘What about the boy from Camp Knox? Didn’t he exist after all?’
‘We still haven’t found him,’ said Erlendur, ‘and I don’t suppose we ever will now. No one’s come forward and they’re hardly likely to after this. The case has received a lot of publicity following Rasmus’s arrest, just as it did when Dagbjört originally vanished, and that’s one of the details that has been disclosed on the news, but nobody’s … I’m not saying Silja was lying. Perhaps Dagbjört did know a boy from Camp Knox.’
‘So you’re not ruling it out?’
‘No, there’s no call to do that.’
‘I’m so glad,’ said Svava. ‘I’ve always … I’ve always indulged myself in a little fantasy that she’d met some nice boy. ‘That’s what I like to think. That she had a chance to discover what it is to … that Dagbjört had a chance to experience love. To know what it’s like to be in love. Even if only for a short time.’
‘Perhaps he was only passing through and never looked back. There are some places in their past that people don’t like to acknowledge. They don’t want to look back. I get the feeling Camp Knox was one of those. You wouldn’t want it to dog you through life but it would be hard to shake off.’
Svava looked curiously at Erlendur.
‘It sounds as if you’re talking from experience.’
‘I think we all have places like that,’ Erlendur said. ‘Our own private Camp Knox.’
‘But what about …?’
She kept up a relentless flow of questions and Erlendur tried to field them as best he could but knew he had no real answers, only reassuring platitudes. And with these he tried to comprehend and to provide comfort, for himself as much as her.
Nanna listened as Marion Briem described her brother’s fate, his affair with Joan and how Earl had taken revenge on him as a result. Marion attributed the success of the case above all to Caroline. Without her the Icelandic police would probably never have laid hands on the three men currently sitting in custody at Sídumúli Prison where they were undergoing interviews. The Icelandic and American authorities had come to an agreement about the handling of the case. Caroline had escaped with no more than a reprimand for disobeying orders. She kept her job with the military police and was part of the team questioning the three men along with the Icelandic police. She told Marion she had been in touch with Joan and was trying to support her through the investigation. She was an important witness and had stuck to her testimony against Earl and his friends. Earl claimed not to remember how he found out about her affair with Kristvin. Caroline was convinced he was lying. Wilbur Cain must have been involved and perhaps even egged Earl on as a way of putting an end to Kristvin’s snooping.
‘My brother never mentioned her – this Joan,’ said Nanna. ‘I didn’t even know she existed. I’d have thought he’d have told me –’
‘They hadn’t known each other long,’ said Marion. ‘I’m sure he’d have told you sooner or later.’
Erlendur was there too but took little part in the conversation. He stood by the window, gazing out at the playground. They had found a quiet room in Nanna’s nursery school where they could talk in private.
‘I’m really surprised he got involved with a married woman.’
‘She didn’t tell him at first. She was scared of her husband. But it’s possible she was trying to make Earl jealous too. She’s a bit vague on that point. Earl had been in trouble with the police back home in America before he joined the army. He was accused of assault on two occasions but never charged. He carried out a brutal attack on Joan when he heard she’d been cheating on him, then forced her to call your brother and ask him round. She’d never have done it if Earl hadn’t used violence against her.’
‘And they were lying in wait for him?’
‘Yes.’
‘I can’t stop thinking about him in the hands of those men. Alone and helpless, one against three.’
‘I know.’
‘He didn’t deserve what they did to him. Not him of all people.’
‘No, of course not,’ said Erlendur. ‘No one would deserve that.’
‘I thought it was my fault,’ said Nanna. ‘What happened to him. That he’d got into trouble because of me. Because he put himself in danger buying drugs for me.’
‘It wasn’t like that.’
‘And this Joan, who is she, what kind of person is she?’ Nanna asked after a lengthy pause.
‘To be honest I don’t know,’ said Marion. ‘I can put you in touch with her, if you like. Kristvin told her about you. She knew about your illness. Asked after you.’
‘Maybe,’ said Nanna. ‘We’ll see.’
The sound of the children’s voices carried in to them. Nanna went to the window where Erlendur was standing watching them. His thoughts were with another little girl in a different playground, in red waterproof trousers and a woolly hat, playing alone in the sand.
‘I miss him,’ said Nanna. ‘I keep expecting him to ring … It … losing him hurts so much.’
‘How are you otherwise?’ asked Marion. ‘How’s your treatment going?’
‘They think I’ll live,’ she said, ‘but what do they know?’
53
One evening several weeks later Erlendur took a last stroll down the street where Dagbjört had lived and died, then kept on walking until he reached the site where Camp Knox had once stood as a memorial to military occupation and Icelandic poverty. For many years he had been haunted by Dagbjört’s story, by her inexplicable disappearance, the mystery shrouding her fate. He had immersed himself in the details of her life, followed in her footsteps time and again, stood brooding in front of her house and now, at last, discovered what had befallen her so heart-rendingly close to home.
It was a cold day and a biting northerly whipped up the loose snow and blew it along the street. He dug his hands deeper into his pockets and headed into the wind, conscious that the Dagbjört affair had only intensified his fascination with those who never came back. Solving the case had given him no more than a temporary respite. Lately the old pop song ‘Dagný’ had been running through his mind, conjuring up an image of the schoolgirls who once came together to sing about joy and delight, that poignant melody that would always remind him of Dagbjört. It was a relief to have found answers to
the questions about her fate that had preyed on him so long, but he knew that for him there would be no closure. Her song would continue to haunt him for the rest of his days.
ALSO BY ARNALDUR INDRIDASON
REYKJAVIK NIGHTS
STRANGE SHORES
BLACK SKIES
OUTRAGE
OPERATION NAPOLEON
HYPOTHERMIA
ARCTIC CHILL
THE DRAINING LAKE
VOICES
SILENCE OF THE GRAVE
JAR CITY
About the Author
Photo: Einar Falur Ingolfsson
ARNALDUR INDRIÐASON won the CWA Gold Dagger Award for Silence of the Grave and is the only author to win the Glass Key Award for Best Nordic Crime Novel two years in a row, for Jar City and Silence of the Grave. Strange Shores was nominated for the 2014 CWA Gold Dagger Award. You can sign up for author updates here.
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Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Notice
Dedication
1
2
3
4
5
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7
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53
Also by Arnaldur Indridason
About the Author
Copyright
This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
A THOMAS DUNNE BOOK FOR MINOTAUR BOOKS.
An imprint of St. Martin’s Publishing Group.
INTO OBLIVION. Copyright © 2014 by Arnaldur Indridason. Translation copyright © 2015 by Victoria Cribb. All rights reserved. For information, address St. Martin’s Press, 175 Fifth Avenue, New York, N.Y. 10010.
www.thomasdunnebooks.com
www.minotaurbooks.com
The Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is available upon request.
eISBN 978-1-4668-8929-3
Our eBooks may be purchased in bulk for promotional, educational, or business use. Please contact the Macmillan Corporate and Premium Sales Department at 1-800-221-7945, extension. 5442, or by e-mail at [email protected].
First published in Iceland under the title Kamp Knox by Vaka-Helgafell
Previously published in Great Britain under the title Oblivion by Harvill Secker, an imprint of Vintage, a Penguin Random House company
First U.S. Edition: February 2016
Into Oblivion Page 27
