Nightblind (Dark Iceland)

by Ragnar Jónasson

  ‘And that useless piece of shit got what he deserved today … Yes, I know I shouldn’t say that kind of thing. But I’m tired and I’m angry, Ari Thór. I won’t deny it. I was bloody livid when I saw the treatment that woman had received,’ Tómas said pausing for breath, his face flushed. ‘Maybe the bastard was simply evil. Who knows? I can tell you, Ari Thór, that violence can be found everywhere – not just in the scum, but also in men who look thoroughly respectable. Heads of families in responsible positions, exemplary citizens in every way, except when they use their fists on woman and children. I know this. I’ve seen it with my own eyes, far too often.’

  The dashboard clock showed it was almost one. Ari Thór was exhausted and however much he sympathised with Tómas’s anger, he needed to rest and longed for sleep.

  ‘Shouldn’t we wait until the morning, Tómas? It’s been a long day for her, and for all of us. I expect they’re both fast asleep.’

  Ottó’s words of warning flashed through his mind. It probably wasn’t a smart move to be pestering the mayor and his deputy in the middle of the night. But Tómas wouldn’t be moved.

  ‘We’re investigating a murder, and you know as well as I do that this is no ordinary murder enquiry. Someone shot a police officer. Don’t forget that, Ari Thór. If we have to interrupt someone’s sleep, they’ll just have to live with it. This case is a priority. Herjólfur is a priority.’

  They stepped out into the biting northerly wind, strong enough to set the street lights swaying gently. The darkness was overwhelming as Ari Thór battled against the gusts. He almost looked forward to the days of white winter snow, even though at times he still felt claustrophobic when the weight of snow on the town was at its heaviest.

  Tómas hammered on the door, and they didn’t have to wait long before the mayor answered it, fully dressed, wide awake and frowning.

  ‘What now?’ He made no attempt to hide his impatience.

  ‘We need to speak to Elín. Is she still here?’

  ‘Of course she is. But can’t this wait? You must surely understand that she’s not in the best frame of mind to be receiving visitors right now.’

  ‘Could we come in for a few minutes?’ Tómas asked, firm but polite.

  Gunnar hesitated before answering, his shoulders slumping. ‘All right, a few minutes.’

  Elín sat in the living room with a coffee cup cradled in her hands. She looked at them, clearly tired, her eyes blank. She said nothing.

  Tómas glanced at Ari Thór. He could imagine what he was thinking. Should they speak to her here, or to take her to the police station?

  ‘Could we have a quiet chat?’ Tómas asked, looking first at Elín and then quickly at Gunnar.

  Considering the circumstances, Elín replied with remarkable calm. ‘We can talk here. I want Gunnar to stay.’

  ‘It’s not standard practice,’ Tómas said doubtfully, his expression mirroring an internal debate. He paused and sighed. ‘All right. If that’s the way you want it,’ he said quietly, decision made.

  Ari Thór noticed that Gunnar took a seat some distance away from Elín, as if making the point that they weren’t as close as some people seemed to think.

  For a moment nobody said anything. Tómas made no indication that he expected to manage the situation. Ari Thór had the information, so it was up to him to lead the questioning.

  Eventually he took the plunge. He felt uncomfortable there, the uninvited guest in someone’s home in the middle of the night.

  ‘I … we have witness evidence, Elín, that you have been in contact with someone dealing drugs, in the building where Herjólfur was shot.’

  It was as if a hand grenade had been rolled across the living room floor. Elín sat stiff, the amazement and fear clear on her face. Gunnar looked astonished, even horrified, uttering a loud gasp as his jaw visibly dropped. Maybe his feelings for Elín were stronger than he would like people to know?

  Elín finally stammered a few words. ‘I … I thought you wanted to talk about Valli … what happened this evening … I, er. I don’t know if I should…’

  Ari Thór almost expected Gunnar to rise to his feet and take a stand, arguing, demanding that they leave. Instead he sat motionless, without a word.

  Ari Thór would have preferred to be more gentle, to shield this poor woman from the painful questions that were obviously distressing her, but her reactions demonstrated that a determined approach had been the right one, perhaps even bringing them a step closer to solving the mystery. Had they even found the attacker? Could Elín have murdered Herjólfur?

  ‘Is that right?’ he persevered. ‘That you did some business with a dealer out there?’

  Elín appeared to be in shock, her silence almost a presence in the room. Her eyes darted around, as if she was trying to make up her mind about whether she should tell the truth.

  ‘It’s best to make a clean breast of it now,’ Ari Thór said more gently. ‘It doesn’t look good, and lies are only going to make matters worse, Elín.’

  ‘I’m sorry, I haven’t lied…’ she said. ‘It wasn’t dope … not dope at all. I don’t do that stuff. You don’t think I shot the man, do you? I had nothing to do with that,’ she said, speaking rapidly, her voice shaky, terror evident on her face.

  ‘Not dope? What, then?’

  ‘Just painkillers. Just some fucking painkillers!’ She buried her face in her hands and then looked up through the tears. ‘I’m sorry, I haven’t come to terms with what happened this evening. Can we talk about this tomorrow?’

  ‘We have to get this straight now. Maybe it’s best if you come with us to the station.’

  ‘No! No, I couldn’t … Not now,’ she yelped, her shoulders shaking.

  Ari Thór pressed on. ‘How much did you buy? How often? Why?’

  Elín shook her head and said nothing.

  ‘How long have you been using prescription drugs?’

  She shook her head again and mumbled. ‘I’m not … I … I don’t want to talk about it.’

  ‘Was Herjólfur investigating you?’

  Elín gave no reply.

  ‘Is this something Herjólfur had discovered?’ Ari Thór asked. He glanced at the mayor, who seemed to have no idea what to do, what he should say, or if he should say anything at all. Ari Thór waited for his reaction, a shout, a call or even some kind of insult. But when there was no response, he decided to change tack.

  ‘Did you have to kill him?’ he asked Elín calmly.

  Elín sobbed and she looked to be on the brink of a nervous collapse. Ari Thór glanced towards Tómas, who shrugged, abnegating responsibility even though he had been determined to make the visit.

  ‘Did you…?’ Ari Thór repeated, and this time Elín interrupted.

  ‘I didn’t do anything!’ she yelled. ‘I didn’t kill him!’

  ‘I reckon it’s best that we take this down to the station.’

  ‘No … I don’t want to go … I haven’t done anything.’

  Now Gunnar intervened, with more composure than Ari Thór had expected of him. He stood up.

  ‘That’s enough. She can’t take any more of this,’ he said. ‘I can explain. I’ll give you the truth. But that will be the end of it for now. Let her rest.’

  For a moment Ari Thór thought that Gunnar was going to admit to the murder.

  ‘All I’m asking is for some consideration, for both of us, as much as is possible. Of course neither of us murdered Herjólfur. I don’t imagine that has even crossed your minds anyway, but it’s best to get everything out in the open.’

  He paced around the living room as he spoke.

  ‘All the same, we haven’t been entirely open with you, and the responsibility for that is mine.’

  The mayor sighed and paused for a moment before continuing.

  ‘It’s true that Elín acquired painkillers by … er … unconventional means, a handful of times. But she did it for me.’

  ‘For you?’ Ari Thór asked in surprise.

 
‘You see, I’ve had a condition that has been a problem for me.’ He waved his hands, as if to lighten the severity of the situation. ‘It’s not serious or anything like that. But I need to have these drugs. I need to use them to function properly, especially when I’m under pressure. The first few months here in a new job were stressful. I know it’s not the biggest municipality in the country, but it has still been tough, with a lot of powerful people expecting me to make a success of it. And I think I’ve done that … made a success of it, I mean. So far.’

  Gunnar came to a halt in the middle of the living-room floor.

  ‘And you sent Elín to that place, to pick up your dope?’

  ‘I wouldn’t call it dope … I’m no addict … I’m just doing my best to get through life, in a new job, and more than likely about to lose my family … it hasn’t been easy. And I didn’t send anyone anywhere. I asked Elín if she could help me out. I was doing fine before I moved up north, but I knew I’d be struggling if I didn’t have the right medication. Sometimes I’ve been able to get them from a doctor on prescription, but normally those aren’t strong enough and I’d come to the end of the line. I couldn’t keep on asking for stronger painkillers. Listen, I didn’t know which way to turn, and it wasn’t a risk I could take myself, the brand-new mayor, a familiar face, so…’

  Ari Thór looked across at Elín and saw her nod in agreement.

  ‘That’s right,’ she said in a low voice. ‘Gunnar asked me to help out and I fixed it for him. As I always do.’

  ‘And Herjólfur was investigating you?’ Ari Thór asked. ‘Was that why he called you, Gunnar? Had he put two and two together?’

  ‘What? Well, no, quite the opposite.’ Gunnar paused and looked at Elín. ‘He called me to let me know that he had seen Elín up there and that he suspected there was some dope trading going on, or even something more than that. It hadn’t occurred to him that she was there for me.’

  ‘And how did you two react? By killing the man who was getting too close to the truth?’

  ‘What? Are you crazy? Of course not. We’re normal people, maybe in an unusual situation, but normal people don’t kill other people.’ He paused for a moment and glanced over at Elín, aware of the irony in his word. Shrugging, he continued, ‘Herjólfur must have had his eye on more than just Elín, bigger fish, sharks … Criminals who have plenty at stake and are used to violence. I admit I lied to you, to save my own skin, of course. But put yourselves in my shoes. Wouldn’t you have tried to keep something like this quiet?’

  At the mention of bigger fish and sharks, Ari Thór’s thoughts went to Addi.

  Tómas spoke, at last.

  ‘Could you come with us, Gunnar?’

  Gunnar nodded, clearly spent. He looked over at Elín.

  ‘You stay here, Elín. See if you can get some sleep.’

  ‘We’ll take her statement in the morning. We’ll start with you now,’ Tómas said.

  ‘And then what? Will the media get hold of this? Are you going to…? I mean, will I be charged with anything?’

  ‘The investigation will have to take its course, Gunnar,’ Tómas said, his voice betraying his fatigue. ‘What happens next is not my decision, but I can assure you that we don’t give the media any inside information about this or any investigation. That’s out of the question.’

  Ari Thór had spent long enough in Siglufjördur to know that it wouldn’t take long for the news to leak out. It could mean that Gunnar would be forced to resign. Maybe he’d be able to weather the storm by openly repenting and promising to deal with his problem. That sort of thing always went down well with the public. In little Iceland people were quick to forgive and quick to forget.

  I went outside today. It was an unseasonably cold summer day with the sun hidden behind the clouds. There are always clouds over me these days.

  I also finally got to meet the doctor. He took me off this fucking medication and he promised to look at the alternatives.

  We can’t keep on like this, he said. Then he said, You look terrible.

  He was right, of course. I hadn’t realised myself just how weak I had become. The fresh air will help, I hope.

  One strange thing was that he didn’t recall being asked to see me, not until today. Somehow I must have misunderstood the nurse. Didn’t she promise repeatedly to ask him on my behalf for an appointment? Or say that she conveniently forgot? There is something going on, and I need to know what it is.

  34

  Another death in Siglufjördur dominated the morning’s news, although details were sparse and no names were mentioned; a tragedy but not a mystery, as one expert put it. There was, however, one news website taking the lead on a different story, to the surprise of Ari Thór and apparently Tómas as well. It was reported that Herjólfur had been investigated for corruption a decade previously, when several police officers had been suspected of taking bribes from drug dealers. Nothing was proved and the matter was dropped, but it was something that could be relevant to the current case.

  Ari Thór recalled his conversation with Addi the previous night, and felt a sudden wrench. He could see how easy – all too easy – it was to step over the line, and felt a glimmer of sympathy for Herjólfur. He wasn’t going to fall into that trap. He needed to put a stop to Addi’s assumptions at the first opportunity, and leave him in no doubt about where he stood. If Addi thought that he had reached a cosy agreement with the police, he had another think coming.

  ‘It stinks, my boy. It stinks,’ Tómas said, when he had read the article about Herjólfur. ‘It puts us in a difficult position. We need public opinion behind us. People expect police officers to be honest guardians of law and order, everyone’s friend and protector. Of course it occasionally happens that one of us puts a foot wrong, and I sincerely hope that there was nothing on Herjólfur’s conscience.’

  ‘Could…’ Ari Thór began, wondering if he should continue. ‘Could Herjólfur have been involved in anything similar here?’

  ‘It had crossed my mind,’ Tómas answered thoughtfully. ‘I can’t help but suspect that there’s something behind this shooting that we may wish we’d never uncovered. Perhaps we’d rather not know.’

  ‘What do you mean? Of course we need to know.’

  ‘Do we?’ Tómas asked, gazing into the distance. ‘Sometimes sleeping dogs are best left to lie quietly. People have to have trust in the police force.’

  Ari Thór could hardly believe his ears and wondered if Tómas was really so cynical.

  ‘We have to finish this case, Tómas. Wherever it takes us.’

  ‘Yes, I expect you are right, Ari Thór. I just hope that whatever the solution is, it’s something we can live with.’

  ‘Can you check out these corruption allegations?’ Ari Thór asked. ‘Would your people in Reykjavík know anything?’

  ‘I expect so.’

  It was almost midday. They had taken Gunnar’s statement during the night and Elín’s early that morning. Naturally, both of them were suspects in the Herjólfur case, although there were no direct indicators of their guilt. Both asserted that they had been asleep at home on the night of the attack, not that this provided either of them with an alibi.

  Media interest was growing sharply as the town filled up with news teams. Unusually for this time of year, travel conditions were reasonable, tempting many of them northwards. There was an unusual amount of traffic in Siglufjördur, as the town was swelled by an unseasonal number of visitors from nearby towns, many keen to soak up the air of mystery.

  Ari Thór had not seen Kristín since the previous day. She had left early to go to work, dropping Stefnir off with the childminder on her way. She would be on duty until well into the evening, with a long shift ahead of her. Stefnir would have to be collected before four, but the childminder could take him again that evening, if necessary.

  Ari Thór had received a message from Jódís, the old lady who knew the background of the past occupants of the old house, and she asked him to pay her a v
isit, making it plain that she had something important to tell him. He decided that her insights were probably not an immediate priority, but he scheduled a meeting for later that day, planning to take Stefnir with him to visit her. He still hoped that somewhere among the old secrets that shrouded the place it would be possible to find the key to Herjólfur’s death.

  ‘Should we bring Addi in?’ Ari Thór asked.

  ‘Addi? Whatever for?’ Tómas asked in astonishment.

  Ari Thór gulped. ‘Well, the news about Herjólfur … it might be worth seeing if he had been involved in anything shady up here.’

  ‘We don’t run an investigation based on hearsay,’ Tómas replied frostily.

  Ari Thór knew Tómas was right, but he made another attempt, this time from a different angle that he hoped might hit the target.

  ‘Addi gave us information about Elín, so it’s obvious that he’s up to his ears in this business. He didn’t exactly try to hide it when we talked last night. There must be more to this.’

  Tómas hesitated.

  ‘I don’t doubt it … but will it get us anywhere? And as far as I can see, Addi has been very helpful so far. The tip-off about Elín was right on the money.’

  ‘Let’s do it anyway,’ Ari Thór said doggedly. ‘We can’t let him think that there’s some kind of special arrangement just for him.’

  ‘Well, up to you. Give him a call and ask him to stop by.’

  ‘I reckon it would give the right impression if we were to fetch him.’

  Tómas shook his head and said nothing.

  Addi sat opposite Ari Thór and Tómas at the police station, confident but clearly less than happy about being publicly hauled in. His face was a mask of fury, and he provided little other than single-word answers to the questions put to him, sometimes refusing to answer at all.

  ‘Could Herjólfur have been involved in trading drugs in the town?’ Ari Thór asked.

  Addi shrugged his shoulders.

  Ari Thór repeated his question with more steel in his voice. ‘What do you know, Addi? Is it possible?’