Strange Shores de-9

by Arnaldur Indridason

  Seeing a light shining in Jakob’s sitting room, he knocked at the door. The wind had changed and a cold, dry gust buffeted the village from the north. He rapped again and Jakob opened up.

  ‘Why, hello, mate,’ he said, inviting Ezra inside. ‘I’ve been expecting you.’

  The word ‘mate’ immediately struck Ezra as false. Jakob ushered him into the sitting room, picked up a bottle of brennivín once they were seated and filled two shot glasses. Downing his in one go, he refilled it straight away. It was evident that he had been drinking and Ezra remembered how obnoxious and aggressive he could get. Ezra drank sparingly, immediately regretting his decision to come. He should have chosen another time of day, when Jakob was less likely to be boozing. Glancing around, he noticed that the house was much messier than it used to be, the room strewn with dirty clothes, leftover food and unwashed dishes.

  ‘Nice to see you,’ said Jakob.

  ‘How have you been?’ asked Ezra.

  ‘Shit,’ replied Jakob. ‘I’m in a hell of a state, let me tell you, Ezra. Life’s no fun any more.’

  ‘I can believe it’s been a rough time.’

  ‘Rough? You can’t begin to imagine how rough it’s been, Ezra. So damned rough. Let me tell you — let me tell you, Ezra, it’s not exactly a laugh a minute losing a beloved wife like Matthildur.’

  ‘I’m sorry if I’ve turned up at a bad time. Perhaps I should come back later. I need — ’

  ‘What? Leaving already? Relax. Drink up. I wasn’t doing anything, just sitting here listening to the wireless. It’s not a bad time.’

  Ezra was silent.

  ‘I’m not drunk,’ said Jakob. ‘I’m just a bit lonely.’

  ‘Of course,’ said Ezra.

  Jakob pulled himself together, straightened his shoulders and started to speak, picking his words with care.

  ‘I’m actually a bit surprised you were willing to come here,’ he said. ‘To see me.’

  ‘Willing?’ Ezra was wary. ‘I wanted to give you my condolences — ’

  ‘Oh, really? How kind of you.’

  ‘I wanted to know how you’re getting on.’

  ‘But that’s not all, is it?’

  ‘I. .’

  ‘You’re curious about Matthildur, aren’t you?’

  ‘About Matthildur?’

  ‘Don’t play the fool.’

  ‘I wouldn’t dream — ’

  ‘Do you think I didn’t know?’

  ‘Know what?’

  ‘Do you really believe, Ezra, that I didn’t know about you and Matthildur?’

  Jakob was suddenly sober. His expression was hard and unforgiving. With extraordinary bluntness and no real warning, Ezra’s suspicions were confirmed. He had been dreading this news for so long that now, when the truth was finally out, it almost came as a relief.

  ‘I wanted to talk to you,’ said Ezra. ‘That’s why I’m here. We didn’t want to hurt you. It just happened.’

  ‘Didn’t want to hurt me?’ echoed Jakob. ‘You didn’t want to hurt me?’

  ‘We kept meaning to tell you.’

  ‘But you never did.’

  ‘No. But Matthildur was planning to.’

  Ezra realised how pathetic it sounded, as if it had been her responsibility. ‘She wanted to do it alone,’ he corrected himself. ‘Didn’t want me with her.’

  ‘Do you know how I found out?’ demanded Jakob. ‘Do you know how I found out I was a cuckold?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘How do you think that feels, eh? How do you think it feels when your wife’s fucking another man? Your friend, for Christ’s sake! How the hell do you think that feels?’

  Ezra’s mouth was dry.

  ‘You were my friend, weren’t you?’

  Ezra still could not speak.

  ‘Weren’t you my friend?’ persisted Jakob.

  Ezra nodded.

  ‘Oh, I noticed how you two used to behave when you came to fetch me in the morning,’ Jakob continued. ‘Do you think I didn’t see how you gawped at her? I saw you mooning over her and I saw how she liked it.’

  ‘She told me about her sister and the baby,’ said Ezra. ‘She was upset — ’

  ‘That was nothing but a pack of lies!’ shouted Jakob. ‘That kid wasn’t mine! Her sister was lying. I screwed the bitch, that’s true. I screwed her in Djúpivogur, maybe a couple of times. But it wasn’t my child. And I had no idea they were sisters.’

  ‘Matthildur was heartbroken,’ said Ezra. ‘That’s one reason why she turned to me. She was angry.’

  Jakob looked a mess — unshaven, unkempt and wearing only one sock, his checked shirt hanging out of his trousers. Realising that he was not in his right mind, Ezra felt it was unwise to carry on talking to him. He was relieved to know where he stood at last but Jakob’s current state could only make matters worse. He rose to leave.

  ‘Maybe we should discuss this another time,’ he said.

  Jakob scowled at him. ‘You’re not going anywhere till I’ve had my say,’ he snarled.

  ‘I’m not sure this is the right — ’

  ‘Shut up!’ shouted Jakob. ‘Shut the fuck up and sit down!’

  They eyed one another until Ezra finally gave in and sat down facing him.

  ‘Do you know how I got proof of your dirty little affair?’ Jakob asked. ‘Have I told you?’

  ‘No, you haven’t.’

  ‘I had my suspicions, of course. We’d quarrelled, me and Matthildur, about her sister and that bloody brat. I won’t deny it. It changed our relationship but I thought we’d got over it. That is, until she saw some something in you. You! The reason it took me so long to twig what was going on was because it was you. Christ, Ezra! No woman’s ever given you a second glance. What the fuck did she see in you?’

  He probably deserved whatever Jakob threw at him. That was why he had come, after all — to hear the accusations and insults, to bear the brunt of his rage.

  ‘It could have been any old shit, just not you. Anyone but you, Ezra. What would people think of me if she jumped into bed with a freak like you, who’d never been near a woman in his life? What would that say about me?’

  Ezra did not dignify this with an answer.

  ‘I went to Reydarfjördur and pretended I was going to stay overnight. Remember? Viggó, Ninna’s husband, offered me a lift.’

  Ezra still did not respond.

  ‘Remember, you bastard?’ Jakob yelled at him.

  Ezra nodded. ‘Yes, I remember.’

  ‘Well, I went,’ said Jakob, ‘but I got a lift back later that evening and saw her sneaking off to your place in the dark. I saw you together, Ezra. I hung around outside your house like a fool and saw it all. Everything!’

  ‘Why didn’t you interrupt us? Why didn’t you speak up?’

  Jakob hung his head as if in defeat. ‘Ezra. . you think it’s so easy,’ he said, his voice gradually rising again. ‘So cut and dried. Why didn’t you interrupt us? Why didn’t you speak up? What kind of questions are they? What was I supposed to say? Don’t fuck my wife?’ He was shouting now. ‘Was that what I was supposed to say to you, Ezra?’

  ‘I can understand that you were angry.’

  ‘Angry?’ whispered Jakob, more composed now. ‘You haven’t a clue, have you? But I bottled up my anger. Bottled it up till I needed it. I sloped off home and let my rage boil and churn till I thought it would choke me. No one gets away with treating me like that, though. I won’t have it. I told her — I told her in plain words that I would not be treated like that.’

  ‘Was that why she went to Reydarfjördur?’ asked Ezra hesitantly, terrified of the answer. ‘Was it because of us?’

  ‘That’s right, Ezra. That’s why she had to go,’ said Jakob, tipping the bottle down his throat. ‘That’s why she had to go on a long journey.’

  33

  Ezra had put down the gun while he was relating the story. Erlendur was not sure if he was even conscious of having done it, so absorbed was he in the memory of
that meeting with Jakob more than sixty years ago. He listened in silence to the old man’s tale. Dusk was gathering in the kitchen. Erlendur was worried Ezra would catch a chill, sitting there in his vest, his slippers still wet from the snow outside. He asked if he had a jumper he could put on or if he wanted a blanket, but the other man did not respond. So Erlendur got up, found a blanket, draped it over Ezra’s shoulders and took away the shotgun, placing it at a safe distance. It contained a single round which he removed. Ezra made no comment.

  The minutes ticked away as they sat in silence, broken by nothing but bursts of grateful cheeping as flocks of sparrows discovered the seed Ezra had scattered on the snowy ground behind the house. Erlendur asked if he should put on some coffee, to no reply.

  The pause became prolonged.

  ‘I don’t know if I should go on,’ Ezra said at last, his voice tinged with melancholy. ‘I’ve no idea why I’m raking this up now.’

  Erlendur was about to remark that it might do him good to unburden himself of these long-suppressed memories but bit his tongue. He was in no position to judge.

  ‘Because of Matthildur?’ he suggested.

  Ezra had been gazing out of the window at the moors but now he turned to Erlendur.

  ‘Do you think so?’

  ‘All these years you’ve never stopped thinking about her.’

  ‘No, that’s right. But there’s a reason for that.’

  ‘She disappeared.’

  ‘Yes, she disappeared. But I’ve never got over the circumstances, and I never will.’

  ‘People go missing all the time,’ said Erlendur.

  ‘People go missing,’ Ezra repeated. ‘If only it were that simple.’

  He suddenly seemed to return to the present and notice that Erlendur had removed the gun and spread a blanket over his shoulders.

  ‘Jakob may well have lied,’ he said. ‘I don’t know. It’s too late to tell now. Matthildur was never found. There’s that. I’ve thought about it since. Maybe he was just torturing me. Maybe he enjoyed seeing me suffer. Got his revenge that way. He threatened to do the worst if I didn’t keep my trap shut, and I believed him. I did as he said. I kept my mouth shut.’

  Jakob banged the bottle down, keeping his eyes fixed on Ezra, and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

  ‘Do you want to know what happened?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Of course, you have a right to.’

  ‘What happened? What are you on about?’

  ‘I’m talking about Matthildur, Ezra. My darling wife Matthildur. Isn’t that why you’re here? You’ve hardly come to give me your condolences. Well, I’ll tell you. Just be patient and I’ll tell you the whole story. Because I want you to know. You’ve just as much right as I have. Maybe more. I was only her husband: you got to sleep with her! You got to fu-’

  ‘I won’t listen to any more of this filth!’ exclaimed Ezra. ‘Don’t you dare talk about her like that.’

  ‘Filth?’ queried Jakob.

  He started to relate, in meandering fashion, how their marriage had gradually come unstuck after Matthildur received her sister’s letter. He had never succeeded in convincing her that he was not the child’s father or that he had been ignorant that she and Ingunn were sisters. Now she pounced on his earlier behaviour as evidence that he had wanted to avoid all contact with her family from the outset. Jakob had not wanted any fuss over their wedding — no church service or reception. They had got married quietly at the vicar’s house in Eskifjördur. She accused him of being unfaithful to her as well and swore she would not be outdone.

  ‘Next thing I know she’s cheating on me with you,’ said Jakob.

  ‘Did you know Matthildur and Ingunn were sisters when you started seeing her?’ asked Ezra.

  Jakob sniggered. ‘I tried to tell her.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Her sister would have given the whore of Babylon a run for her money. There’s no way the kid was mine! And I’ll never acknowledge it.’

  34

  The night he had pretended to be staying over in Reydarfjördur Jakob had waited up for Matthildur. He had come home late that evening and, noticing a light on in the kitchen, decided to lurk near the house. He had begun to suspect her of wanting to get even with him. Over the last few months her behaviour had changed: she had become colder and more distant, showed little interest in him, hardly bothered to answer when he spoke to her.

  It had taken him a long time and a great deal of effort to persuade Matthildur that he had done nothing wrong; he maintained that he barely knew her sister and had been completely unaware that they were related; he had no part in the child she claimed was his. Matthildur had seemed to accept his explanation, albeit reluctantly, helped by the fact that she and Ingunn were not close. He took care never to refer slightingly to her sister, whom he remembered all too well from Djúpivogur. He had slept with her, but, not content with that, she had pursued him relentlessly until he told her to get lost; he was not interested in her.

  Seeing the kitchen light go out, he wondered if the simple trap he had prepared for his wife had misfired. He was ready to abandon all hope of catching her out when he noticed the back door opening. Matthildur stole out into the garden and melted into the night. He followed at a discreet distance until she reached Ezra’s place, where she tapped on the door. Ezra opened it and she slipped inside. The house was in darkness. Jakob knew the layout of the rooms. After a lengthy interval, he crept over to the building and peered warily through the windows, one by one, until he reached the bedroom. In the dim light he could just glimpse the shapes of two bodies writhing on the bed.

  The rage did not come immediately. Instead he coldly registered the proof of what he had suspected. He should not have been surprised that it was Ezra’s bed she sought out. He was a frequent visitor to their house, worked with Jakob, had no wife or children. So far as Jakob knew he had never been with a woman. Whenever he had pressed Ezra on the subject, his replies had been evasive. He had tried to tease him about it during the long days when the fishing was slow, but Ezra had refused to rise to it. Jakob regarded him as a good friend: the man he trusted with his life at sea.

  No, the rage did not come straight away. Quite the opposite. He left Ezra’s house and walked home slowly, more deeply preoccupied than burning with resentment. It did not occur to him to burst in on them and drag Matthildur away or attack Ezra. In some strange way he felt such behaviour would be beneath his dignity. He had no intention of crawling to them, begging for any favours. He didn’t want to hear any grovelling excuses; didn’t want to listen to any bloody whining.

  Instead, he waited up. He took a seat in the sitting room, and the later it became, the longer Matthildur spent in Ezra’s bed, the more his anger grew. In his mind he went over and over a hundred different scenes of what he would say, how he would act, and all the time his fury intensified. A wave of heat passed through him and he realised what it meant when they described a person as burning with rage. The blood seemed to boil in his veins. He leapt to his feet, paced the floor, then dropped into a chair again, trying to get a grip on himself, but more furious accusations erupted inside him against Matthildur for betraying him, for betraying their marriage, their life together. Springing to his feet again, he stormed around the room. Then there was Ezra. He didn’t know how he would achieve it but he would make sure that Ezra would remember this betrayal for the rest of his life.

  He was in such a frenzy of hatred that when she finally crept home the following morning, quietly closing the door behind her, he did not hear. She spotted him immediately and nearly jumped out of her skin. As soon as their eyes met she realised he knew. Quick as a flash, she turned and tried to open the door to run away to Ezra and to safety, but he caught her and knocked her down.

  ‘Where do you think you’re running to?’ he whispered, hoarse with venom, slamming the door.

  Matthildur tried to get up but he prevented her. Straddling her stomach, he put his strong workma
n’s hands round her slender neck and squeezed, shaking her with all his might, so her head banged on the floor.

  ‘To him?’ Jakob snarled. ‘Were you running to him? Do you really think he can help you now?’

  Matthildur never managed to utter a single word in the face of his overpowering rage and a tirade of abuse. He tightened his grip until finally he sensed her body go limp. Her head dangled, strangely heavy and lifeless, and hit the floor with a dull thud. Loosening his hold, he stared down at her motionless body, oblivious to the passing of time. Little by little his blind frenzy abated and he came back to his senses. Rising to his feet, he looked at Matthildur, panting as if he had been running a race. At first he did not fully comprehend what he had done. He spoke to her and prodded her with his foot. Then gradually it dawned that she was dead. Her head lay at an odd angle. He was not sure whether he had strangled her or broken her neck. All he knew was that she was no longer alive.

  In a state of shock he felt for a chair and sat down, trying to catch his breath. He didn’t know how much later it was when the roar of the wind roused him from his trance. Going to the window, he looked up at the moors and began to work out a plan.

  ‘Murderer!’ exclaimed Ezra, jumping up and stumbling away from Jakob in revulsion. ‘I didn’t want to believe it. I didn’t believe you could do a thing like that. That you had it in you.’

  Jakob regarded him steadily. ‘It’s your fault, Ezra,’ he said coolly. ‘If you hadn’t stolen her from me, she’d still be alive.’

  ‘That’s a damned lie!’ Striding to the door, Ezra flung it open.

  ‘Don’t do anything stupid,’ shouted Jakob after him. ‘You’ll only make it worse for yourself. For yourself, I said, Ezra!’