‘He believes you ran away from the whole mess because that was always your plan,’ he said. ‘When you’d finished. When he’d served his purpose. You took off without warning. Just like you took off and left Eyvindur. Just like you’ll leave Billy Wiggins.’
Vera had heard enough. The self-control she had shown up to now snapped and she spat right in Thorson’s face.
‘Shut your mouth,’ she snarled.
Thorson knew he had provoked her, but he hadn’t been expecting quite such a violent reaction. He wiped his face with his sleeve.
‘You think I don’t know?’ she hissed.
‘Know what?’
‘What you’re trying to do? What you’re trying to achieve? You think I can’t see?’
‘What? What am I trying to achieve?’
‘You’d better leave me alone.’
‘Or what?’
‘I’ve done nothing wrong. Nothing.’
‘What did you say to Wiggins?’ asked Thorson. ‘Did you complain that Eyvindur was standing in the way of your relationship? That he wouldn’t take no for an answer? That he wouldn’t leave you alone? What did you say? That he should take Eyvindur out fishing and come back alone? That accidents happen? Was that pretty much how it went?’
Vera shook her head. ‘My friend certainly didn’t pull his punches.’
‘No,’ said Thorson. ‘He doesn’t have a lot to say in your favour.’
‘You’re talking rubbish,’ she said. ‘A load of bloody rubbish.’
‘Was Wiggins happy to help?’ Thorson went on relentlessly. ‘Did you sit there talking about all the ways you could get rid of Eyvindur? Was it your idea or his? Did Wiggins tell you his plan? Or was it up to him? All you had to do was lay your cards on the table and he’d take care of the rest?’
Vera burst into mirthless laughter. ‘Now you’re just being ridiculous.’
‘Am I?’
‘Do you think I don’t know what you are? Do you think I can’t tell?’
Thorson didn’t immediately grasp her meaning.
‘Women like me … we can sniff it out,’ she said and smiled her crooked smile. ‘We sense it straight away. I’m right, aren’t I?’
‘What?’
‘About what you are, who you are. You’re not interested in women, are you? Never have been.’
Thorson was left momentarily floundering.
‘Is that what this is about?’ she said, coming a step closer. ‘Did he get under your skin, there in his smithy? He’s not a bad-looking fellow for a boy like you.’
Belatedly it dawned on Thorson what she was insinuating. She saw him flinch, though he tried to hide it, and she knew that she’d touched a nerve.
‘You hinted didn’t you?’ he said. ‘You hinted that you could get rid of your fiancé if the two of them went out fishing together and he came back alone?’
‘Why won’t you answer me?’ she asked. ‘Don’t you want to talk about it? Are you embarrassed?’
‘Women like you,’ Thorson said, ‘sniff out nothing but trouble. I get that you wanted to escape the countryside. And that you like soldiers – that they seem like your ticket out of poverty and a life of drudgery. I get that you want to be independent. Lots of women feel the same. But they don’t all go about it like you. They don’t need to play any little games. All they need is to be themselves. Women like you…’
Thorson didn’t finish the sentence. He’d said what he’d come to say. It wasn’t for him to judge her, and he’d already begun to regret his words, even if Vera had been needling him. But then he had deliberately provoked her. He had come here to get a better sense of who she was, to discover what she was capable of. He had got his answers.
‘If you and Wiggins had something to do with Eyvindur’s death, we’ll find out.’
‘We had nothing to do with it. Can’t you get that into your thick skull? Don’t you dare try and pin it on me. Don’t you dare!’
‘OK,’ said Thorson. ‘We’ll see what Wiggins has to say, then you and I can have another little chat.’
‘Get the hell out of here,’ she snapped. Turning her back on him, she started pegging up the pristine washing again.
44
One of the welders at Daníel’s Shipyard recognised the description of Jósep. The man pushed his goggles up on his forehead and told Flóvent that Jósep sometimes came round to the shipyard to scrounge a coffee. He was always terribly polite but not very talkative. The welder was glad of a break and happy to tell Flóvent what he could about Jósep, saying he didn’t like to see a man that young in the gutter. He was a harmless creature who used to pass through on his way to or from the centre of town. His life consisted of nothing but aimless loitering. The man pulled down his goggles and went back to welding his joint.
The workers at the newly opened shipyard couldn’t keep up with the flood of orders for repairs and refitting. Flóvent contemplated the grey British and American naval vessels anchored in the outer harbour; they were interspersed with Icelandic freighters and fishing vessels, everything from small open motorboats to trawlers. The Icelandic fleet had not emerged unscathed from the dangerous task of plying the oceans in wartime. U-boat attacks were becoming increasingly common and that spring dozens of Icelandic sailors had lost their lives as one boat after another was hit. Most recently the freighter Hekla had been torpedoed off the southern tip of Greenland on her way to America, taking fourteen men down with her. Every time a ship left port people knew the voyage could end in disaster. Flóvent had read that, following the sinking of the Hekla, Icelandic crews were insisting that all trips should be made under the protection of an Allied convoy.
As he walked along the side of the shipyard, towards Grandi, a British motorcycle unit passed him with a great roar of engines, vanishing in the direction of the town centre. A little further on he came to a ramshackle bait shed where a small, heavily bearded young man, wearing a much-patched winter coat but no hat, was bending over a tattered blanket. He had been trying to beat the dirt out of it by banging it against the shed wall. Flóvent asked if he was Jósep. The young man was startled and reluctant to confirm his identity. He seemed wary of talking to Flóvent, perhaps under the impression that he was the owner of the shed. He relaxed a little when it became clear that he was mistaken. Flóvent explained that he just wanted a little chat and they spoke for a while about the ships in the harbour and the dangers of sailing these days. The talk turned to Daníel’s Shipyard, and Jósep said he had friends there. Flóvent asked if he was hoping for a job at the yard, but Jósep said he hadn’t given the matter any thought.
‘But why … How do you know who I am?’ he asked, when it finally dawned on him that Flóvent was addressing him by name.
Flóvent explained as succinctly as he could that he was from the police and had come to speak to Jósep as part of his enquiries into the death of a man called Eyvindur, whom Jósep might remember from his school days. Flóvent noted the tramp’s alarm when he said ‘police’ and hastened to reassure him. He just wanted to ask if Jósep could be of any help to them in their hunt for Eyvindur’s killer.
‘No, no chance,’ said Jósep. ‘I know nothing about it. Nothing at all.’
‘You know he’s dead, don’t you?’
‘Yes, yes, but I know nothing about it. Honest.’
‘When did you last see Eyvindur? Was it a long time ago?’
‘I don’t remember,’ said Jósep. ‘Can’t help you. Can’t help you at all. Why don’t you leave me alone? I sleep here sometimes, but I’m not in anyone’s way and –’
‘It’s all right, Jósep. I’m not here to arrest you,’ said Flóvent, seeing how nervous the man was. ‘I only want to talk to you. You’re not in trouble. Really, you have nothing to fear. It’s just that I spoke to Munda, who offers you meals from time to time, and she told me you were planning to pay her back soon for all her kindness. Can you tell me how you’re planning to do that? Have you got a job? Where are you going to get the money to pay
Munda?’
‘Did Munda say that?’
‘Yes.’
‘I haven’t got any money,’ said Jósep firmly. ‘I’ve never had any money. I don’t know what you’re on about. Please, mate, just leave me alone.’
‘The thing is, Eyvindur said he was expecting to come into some money as well,’ said Flóvent, ‘but no one knows where it was supposed to come from. Can you tell me anything about that?’
‘No, I can’t help you.’
‘When you last met Eyvindur, did he tell you about the experiments you were involved in at school? Do you remember?’
‘No, I don’t.’
‘Do you remember the experiments?’
‘No,’ said Jósep flatly.
‘Are you sure?’
‘Yes.’
‘You don’t know which experiments I’m talking about?’
‘I can’t remember any … any experiments. I don’t remember.’
Seeing that he wasn’t getting anywhere, Flóvent decided to take another approach, though it went against the grain. All he wanted was for Jósep to cooperate.
‘You’re not making it easy for me, are you, Jósep?’ he said. ‘I thought we could have a chat just the two of us, but now I might have to take you down to Pósthússtræti and put you in a cell. See if you’re more talkative there.’
Jósep didn’t react.
‘It seems as though Eyvindur heard about these experiments from one of your old schoolmates, Felix Lunden. Remember him?’
But Jósep had stopped cooperating altogether now that the threat of being thrown in the cells hung in the air.
‘His father, Rudolf Lunden, was in charge of the experiments. And a school nurse was involved too. Maybe you remember her. She was called Brynhildur Hólm. The headmaster, Ebeneser, was also mixed up in the affair. Did Eyvindur tell you all this?’
Jósep shook his head.
‘Eyvindur had started asking questions about what went on. It seems he found out.’
Jósep avoided Flóvent’s gaze.
‘What did your father do, Jósep?’ asked Flóvent, reaching into his breast pocket for the photograph taken long ago in the school grounds.
Jósep kept his eyes lowered.
‘I did a quick check. Your fathers knew each other, didn’t they? Your dad and Eyvindur’s. They did time together. Isn’t that right, Jósep?’
‘Yes,’ muttered Jósep, so quietly that Flóvent could barely hear him.
‘It wasn’t the only time he was behind bars, was it?’
‘No,’ whispered Jósep. ‘He was a … bastard.’
‘Did Eyvindur tell you that Felix and Rudolf Lunden had committed a crime and that you were one of the victims? That you could try and blackmail them?’
Jósep shook his head.
‘This is an extremely serious matter, Jósep.’
The young man seemed tormented by the barrage of questions, but Flóvent had no alternative but to keep up the pressure.
‘Did you write a letter to Rudolf, threatening to expose him unless he paid you a substantial sum of money? Did you tell him to leave the money by the cemetery gate on Sudurgata?’
‘Not … it wasn’t…’
‘Did you or did you not write that letter, Jósep?’
‘Eyvindur told me to do it,’ Jósep whispered. ‘He didn’t dare do it himself. He was always such a coward. He said I had to do it and fetch the money and all the rest. I just did what he told me. He was going to give me half. He promised. But the money didn’t come. Then … then he got killed. But it wasn’t my fault.’
‘What did he say, Jósep? What did Eyvindur say to you?’
‘He needed money because of that … that woman,’ said Jósep, still staring at the ground. ‘He thought he could win her back if he got hold of some cash. She’d walked out on him. He said we could squeeze some money out of those people. He told me what to write, and I took it round, but … nothing happened.’
‘Was he going to talk to Felix, do you know? Eyvindur had a key to Felix’s flat. Have you any idea how he got his hands on it?’
‘He stole it. In the West Fjords. When Felix was plastered.’
‘What was he planning to do with the key?’
‘Break into his place and…’ Jósep didn’t finish.
‘What?’
‘He thought Felix kept money in his flat.’
‘Why did he think that?’
‘Because he was working for the Germans. That’s what Eyvindur thought. He was going to find proof.’
‘Then what? Was he going to blackmail Felix? Or expose him?’
‘I don’t know. He was sure Felix was a spy. He spied on us and now he was spying for the Nazis. Eyvindur said he was a bloody Nazi.’
‘And Eyvindur was going to prove all this by breaking into his place?’
‘Yes.’
‘What did he tell you about the experiments?’
‘He said they were illegal – done in secret. Those people didn’t want anyone to find out about them; Felix had let the cat out of the bag. Eyvindur said Felix used to spy on us when we were kids and tell his father everything. He wasn’t our friend; he only pretended to be. So there was nothing wrong with making them pay. They owed us. Owed us a load of money. Specially…’
‘Specially what?’
‘Specially Rikki’s mum. Eyvindur told me to write that in the letter. He told me to mention Rikki specially.’
‘Rikki? Who’s Rikki?’
Jósep went silent again. Flóvent waited, but when no answer was forthcoming, he held out the school photograph and asked if he recognised the people in it. At first Jósep kept his head turned away, but when Flóvent pushed the pamphlet into his hand, Jósep finally looked at it. He was quick to avert his eyes again, but then he seemed to pull himself together and held the leaflet up for a closer look.
‘What happened to Rikki, Jósep?’
Jósep hesitated a moment longer, then put his finger on the fourth boy in the picture.
‘That’s Rikki,’ he said. ‘Felix was always bullying him. Saying he was skinny and had a small head and that he was thick … That was nothing new. He was always saying stuff like that to us.’
‘About how thick you were?’
Jósep nodded. ‘Felix was always trying to impress his dad. We talked about that, Eyvindur and me, after he found out about those experiments. How Felix’s dad had ordered him to behave like that because he wanted to see what Felix could make us do.’
‘What sort of things did he make you do?’
‘Felix gave Rikki a pill that he said came from the doctor. Told him it was the latest scientific development. It could make people fly. Specially little boys, like Rikki, who didn’t weigh anything.’
‘What happened?’
‘Rikki believed him.’
45
Billy Wiggins tapped his fingers on the table in front of him as he smoked, cool and unconcerned. Thorson had decided to have him recalled from Hvalfjördur where he was working on the construction of the naval base at Hvítanes. The sergeant hadn’t offered any resistance but had reacted with surprise and wanted to know why they were taking him to Reykjavík. They asked him to be patient; all would be explained in due course, so he accompanied the two military policemen out to their jeep without any fuss and sat quietly in the back seat all the way to town.
Once there he was taken to an interview room that the military police had at their disposal in the detention camp at Kirkjusandur. He accepted a coffee, and someone gave him some cigarettes, as he had finished his own on the journey to Reykjavík. He was stubbing one out when Thorson entered the room and sat down in the chair opposite his. Wiggins recognised Thorson from his visit to the laundry but didn’t seem at all surprised to see him, just grinned, straightened up in his seat and flapped away a cloud of blue smoke.
‘I guessed as much,’ he said. ‘Are you going to tell me what this is all about?’
‘What exactly did you guess?’ asked Thorson.
‘That I’d bump into you again,’ said Wiggins. ‘Did you really have to drag me all the way back from Hvalfjördur? Was it really that urgent? Or were you just trying to embarrass me? Get me into trouble? There were plenty of people around when the police picked me up.’
‘That was unavoidable,’ said Thorson. ‘We need to wrap up this investigation, and we believe we’re onto something. Your name has cropped up more than once in connection with Vera and Eyvindur, and I wanted to talk to you –’
‘Are you arresting me?’ Wiggins interrupted. ‘Am I under arrest?’
‘No, you’re not under arrest. Can you tell me more about your relationship with Vera? What are your plans for the future? Have you discussed them at all?’
‘I didn’t touch that bloke. I thought I’d made that clear the last time we met. I didn’t know him. Never met him. It was Vera’s decision to leave him. These things happen. I was more than willing to help her move out. We had nothing to do with his death. Couples do often break up without killing each other, you know.’
‘Sure,’ said Thorson. ‘And Vera has a pretty impressive record. Has she told you about her fiancé? The man she was with before she met Eyvindur?’
‘I’m not interested,’ said Wiggins. ‘I don’t care about her past.’
‘So you don’t know what she did? How she got even, when he went back on his word?’
Wiggins shook his head, apparently indifferent to Thorson’s question.
‘Do you want to hear?’
‘It’s none of my business,’ Wiggins said.
‘She has a history of manipulating men,’ said Thorson. ‘Men like you, Wiggins.’
‘I don’t doubt it for a minute. A woman like her. Christ, they must have been queuing up.’ Wiggins bared his teeth in a grin.
‘Is she planning to go to England with you when the war’s over?’
‘What kind of question is that? Why don’t you just get to the point? What we do or don’t plan to do – it’s none of your business. Why don’t you just get off our backs?’
‘Can you tell me about the time you –?’
Wiggins leant forward across the table. ‘The fact is, you’ve got nothing on her,’ he said. ‘You’ve got nothing on us. That’s why you’re asking all these stupid questions. Because you don’t have a bloody clue. You’re up to your neck in it, and you’re trying to claw your way out. Well, you’re not getting any help from us, I can tell you that. Why don’t you just leave us alone and concentrate on doing your job?’
The Shadow Killer Page 24
