The Absolution

by Yrsa Sigurdardottir

  ‘No worries.’ Huldar slapped his knees to show his eagerness to get down to work. ‘I’m not about to grass on him and I’m not bothered about being disciplined. Though I’d prefer to postpone that till Monday.’ His main worry right now was that he wouldn’t get away from work in time to go home and change before his date with Freyja. But he couldn’t tell Erla that. ‘Shall we get cracking?’

  ‘Yes. You go in. I’m going to grab a coffee.’ She got to her feet and tried to fluff up her hair but it instantly fell flat again.

  As Huldar headed for the interview room, he took the time to bestow a nod and a smile on Jóel, who instantly dropped his eyes to his computer screen.

  Haukur looked no less glum as he sat alone, staring unseeingly at the bare walls of the interview room. In front of him was an empty glass that he was clasping in both hands, as if it were a lifeline. He glanced up as Huldar greeted him and sat down across from him. The man released his hold on the glass, his hands shaking as if it was freezing in the room. ‘Can I go now? I’ve answered all your questions and I need to get home. My wife’s waiting for me. And my daughter. I don’t want to worry them.’ He met Huldar’s eyes briefly before lowering his gaze to the glass again. Huldar said nothing and they sat there in silence until Erla reappeared with a steaming cup of coffee, her face hard as nails.

  ‘Right. Sorry about the wait.’ She took a notepad from under her arm, chucked it on the table and sat down. Then she sipped her coffee, put down the cup, folded her arms across her chest, leant back in her chair and studied Haukur without saying a word. Huldar copied her posture, but couldn’t inject the same level of disdain into his sneer.

  ‘I was just asking if I could go now? I think I’ve answered all your questions.’ The man searched their faces anxiously. It was almost depressing to watch the spark of hope fading in his eyes. ‘Can I ring my wife?’

  Erla reached across the table and switched on the recorder. Then she reclined in her chair again, her eyes boring into Haukur’s face. ‘Are you sure you don’t know any Mördur?’ She spoke in a monotone, her voice like ice and quieter than usual. ‘Think carefully before you answer.’

  ‘No. None. I’ve already told you that.’ Haukur licked his lips. ‘If you want, I can give it to you in writing.’ It didn’t sound as if he was being sarcastic.

  ‘Don’t bother.’ Erla blew out through her nose, then turned her head to Huldar. ‘I reckon we should bring in his wife and daughter. They might know Mördur.’

  ‘They don’t know him any more than I do.’ The man tried in vain to hide how desperate he was to prevent this. His forehead was shiny; his eyes flickered nervously.

  ‘You can’t be sure of that. Can you?’ Erla smiled coldly at him.

  Suddenly the man seemed to perk up slightly. His back straightened and he no longer looked quite as pathetic. ‘Why can’t I go? Why don’t you bring in this Mördur you keep banging on about and ask him if he knows me?’

  Erla didn’t reply. Huldar knew exactly what she was thinking. Was this the right moment or would it pay to spin things out a little longer? Her nostrils flared, then her face returned to normal and she smiled. ‘I’m afraid that won’t be possible. You see, Mördur’s dead. He had a heart attack. He was admitted to hospital but died in spite of their best efforts.’

  Haukur drew a sharp breath and didn’t say anything for a long moment. He seized the glass again, pulled it towards him and weighed it in his hands. ‘Well, there’s no point saying I’m sorry, is there? Because I didn’t know the man.’

  ‘Don’t you want to know when it happened?’ Erla’s gaze was trained, unblinkingly, on Haukur’s face.

  ‘I can’t see how that concerns me.’ He dropped his eyes to the glass.

  ‘He had a heart attack just over a week ago. After that he was bedbound right up until he died. Bad luck, eh?’

  Haukur blenched. His Adam’s apple moved up and down convulsively. The glass rattled on the table and he let go of it, sticking his shaking hands under the table instead. ‘I didn’t know him.’

  ‘That’s strange. You see, I think he knew you.’ Erla seized the opportunity, while the man’s eyes were lowered, to shoot a glance at Huldar. She winked at him, her lips drawn back in a savage smile. It was time to go for the jugular. Then, turning back to Haukur, she leant forwards over the table. ‘Mördur was lying on his deathbed from Friday evening last week. There are any number of witnesses who can confirm it. He couldn’t go anywhere; not to the cinema, not to the suburbs to pay a visit to a teenage boy. Do you understand where I’m going with this?’ She broke off, giving Huldar a sign and he obligingly reached across the table and grabbed Haukur by the chin, forcing his head up to meet Erla’s eye. ‘We’ve got Mördur’s phone. The weird thing is that a short time ago you answered a message from him. Under a fake profile, granted, but don’t worry, we can prove it’s yours.’ Erla flashed a smile at Haukur. ‘It’s a pity you didn’t know about his illness then. It’s particularly sad for Stella and Egill. You know, I’m not sure you’d have gone ahead and killed them if you’d known that the person who was planning to take the rap was out of the game. Or am I wrong? Would you have done it anyway?’

  Still gripping the man’s chin in his hand, Huldar watched the hope dying in his eyes. Up to now Haukur had kidded himself that he was going to get away with it; that he’d be able to talk his way out of trouble. But now, as all the escape routes were closed off, his false sense of security was ebbing away.

  Erla told him he was under arrest and read him his rights. Huldar watched his growing bewilderment, and when she told him he would shortly be taken to the cells, after a body search, it was all over for him. He closed his eyes and his face slackened, the picture of defeat.

  Then he opened his eyes and searched their faces for understanding. ‘Have either of you got kids?’

  They shook their heads, their faces deliberately expressionless. His confession was just around the corner.

  It wasn’t until two hours later that Huldar escaped for a cigarette. Haukur had chosen not to wait for a lawyer and had gone ahead and made his confession without taking legal advice. Although this went right against his own interests, it was extremely convenient for the police. Erla raised a perfunctory objection, just enough for it to be recorded on tape that she had done her duty. But, to her credit, she did insist that Haukur picked a lawyer, who was duly informed. While they were waiting, the suspect proved quite willing to talk, and as time wore on it became obvious why. The matter was more complicated than they’d realised and if things went on this way, there was no prospect of Huldar getting home in time to change before his date with Freyja. Too many questions remained unanswered. He’d be lucky to make it on time if he went straight to her place from the station, and he wondered if he could get away with wearing his regulation police trousers and shirt if he left off the jacket.

  His jacket was hanging on his chair and he hurried over to fetch his cigarettes. He was just fishing for the packet when Jóel came over and perched on the desk by Gudlaugur, who pretended not to notice either of them.

  Jóel picked up a stapler and played with it as if he’d never seen such a wonder of technology before. ‘Got a threesome going in the interview room?’

  ‘Oh, shut your face, Jóel.’ Huldar tried another pocket in search of his lighter. He hadn’t the patience to listen to his colleague’s bullshit right now. ‘Get lost and stop bothering people who are working.’

  ‘Working? Who’s working?’ Jóel took offence at the silence that greeted this comment. ‘What the fuck’s that on your jacket? Is that the latest fag fashion? Who’s been sprinkling you with fairy dust? Erla? Or the suspect?’ He turned to Gudlaugur and noticed that he was sparkling too. ‘Ah. Of course. Your little poof of a partner.’

  Huldar ripped the lighter out of his pocket with such force that he tore the lining. He threw a glance at Gudlaugur who shook his head irritably and carried on working. Though Jóel couldn’t have a clue about his sexuality, it mu
st be insufferable to have to hear it bandied about as an insult. Huldar placed his cigarettes and lighter carefully on the desk, while weighing up his options. According to Erla, he already had a bollocking coming to him from management. What would another breach of discipline matter?

  Gathering himself, Huldar sprang at Jóel and they went crashing to the floor together, rolling over and over among the desk and chair legs. Every blow Huldar landed felt so cathartic that he barely noticed when Jóel hit him back. At last, a release for all the pent-up rage caused by the constant snide remarks, the sniggering and backstabbing. It felt fantastic.

  What’s more, he was definitely getting the upper hand by the time the fight was broken up. And the reluctant smile on Gudlaugur’s face was worth any amount of hassle.

  Chapter 40

  Saga seemed content on Huldar’s lap. Not that her face was split by a grin or anything – her perma-scowl was still firmly in place – but Freyja knew her well enough by now to tell when she was pleased. The little girl had gone to him of her own accord. It was the first time Freyja had ever seen her take an interest in another person when she was babysitting her. Usually, Saga behaved as if the two of them were alone in the world.

  The child was clutching a soft toy, a black bat with flappy wings, to which she had developed a great attachment. Cute, cuddly teddy bears and bunnies were treated with the same indifference as strangers. She kept shoving the toy in Huldar’s face and he reacted without fail as if it was the most amazing thing he’d ever seen.

  ‘Her mother should be here any minute.’ Freyja looked apologetically at Huldar who’d got the bat’s wing slap in the middle of his swollen eye again. He didn’t wince or seem to mind, which was surprising given how sore it must be. He hadn’t wanted to talk about how he’d acquired the black eye, just said it had happened at work and that was the reason he’d been able to get away early. Otherwise he was looking good, freshly shaven and cleaned up. He was even smartly dressed – too smartly in fact – but fortunately the effect was offset by his black eye. He was far better-looking than that idiot Kjartan. Her stomach contracted at the thought of him. She’d finally worked up the courage to ring him about an hour before Huldar turned up, ready to give him a piece of her mind, but he hadn’t answered. So she’d sent him a text instead to say she’d rather he didn’t come, but had received no reply. Suddenly she was afraid he hadn’t seen her message and would turn up on her doorstep, expecting to escort her to the party. While she’d have no problem confronting him and telling him where to go, she didn’t want Huldar witnessing the incident. She couldn’t bear the thought of him knowing that she’d almost been made a fool of by a married man.

  ‘I’m in no hurry.’ Huldar made a face at Saga who instantly made one back at him. ‘Would you like to hear more or am I holding you up?’

  Freyja closed Saga’s bag. Huldar had turned up earlier than arranged, so she still had to sort out the child’s few belongings. Saga’s mother wasn’t due to pick her up until just before Huldar had been supposed to arrive, so Freyja had been forced to get ready while she was babysitting. It was either that or greet him in her dressing gown with a towel round her head. She’d managed to grab a quick shower by putting Saga on the bathroom floor, surrounded by saucepans that she could bang with a wooden spoon to her heart’s content, undisturbed by the splashes from the leaking shower cabinet. Molly had watched morosely from the doorway. After that, Freyja had got dressed and put on her make-up, her stomach knotted with fear, when usually she’d have been full of happy anticipation about going out. Whatever his faults, it was actually good to have Huldar there for moral support while she was waiting for Saga’s mother. That way she didn’t have time to dread the upcoming reunion.

  Having something to talk about really helped to distract her too, so Freyja had welcomed it when Huldar started bringing her up to date with the inquiry, though the subject was hardly suitable for children. ‘Go on. It’s better hearing it from you than reading the sanitised version in the news.’

  Huldar pinched Saga’s nose. She waited, as still as a statue, eyes shining with excitement, to see what would happen next. He twisted it gently as he went on updating Freyja about the investigation, which sounded as if it was drawing to a close. ‘As I was saying, Haukur, Adalheidur’s father, has confessed to murdering Egill but not Stella. He swears he had nothing to do with that and claims he has no idea who was responsible. According to him, it was Mördur who organised the whole thing, provided what was needed – the anorak, baseball bat, mask and shipping container – and timed the attacks so Haukur would have a solid alibi for the night Stella was killed.’

  ‘And it was all done through Snapchat?’

  ‘Yes. Almost all of it. Though they met up originally, presumably so Mördur could satisfy himself that he could rely on the guy. Haukur alleges that Mördur rang him from an unlisted number nearly three months ago, and turned out to know a surprising amount about Adalheidur’s problems. He told Haukur he could help by unconventional methods and that sounded good to him. At the time, Haukur said he’d become so infuriated with the system for the way it had failed Adalheidur that he was prepared to do anything. He says Mördur started off by dropping all sorts of hints, without going into any details about what form his help would take. That’s how Mördur got Haukur on board. He claims he thought at first that it would involve making anonymous threats.’

  ‘Anonymous threats?’

  ‘Yes, or something along those lines. Haukur assumed Mördur was planning to scare the living daylights out of Stella and maybe slap her about a bit. That sparked his interest. Enough to make him carry on meeting the man, anyway. By the time Haukur finally learnt about the real plan, he was so psyched up that he agreed to take part anyway. Mördur had sworn it would put an end to the ordeal Adalheidur had been going through. It was like choosing who had the right to live: his daughter, who hadn’t hurt anyone, or Stella, who was a good way to destroying her. Mördur kept rubbing it in that Adalheidur had tried to kill herself and warning Haukur that one day she would succeed. Or end up like his own daughter. He showed Haukur pictures of Laufhildur before and after the accident, which knocked him sideways. You know, she’s the woman you looked up for us, the one with half her face missing.’

  Huldar blew gently in Saga’s face and she screwed up her eyes and nose, then waited eagerly for him to do it again. She’d been following what they said so intently that Freyja was almost afraid she could understand the words. Which was absurd, of course.

  ‘Anyway, the deal was that Mördur would have Stella done away with and take the blame himself. In return, Adalheidur’s father was to kill the bully in a different case, which he had no link to, and Mördur would shoulder the blame for that too. And also for a third killing he was planning, which doesn’t seem to have been carried out. Since Mördur knew he was dying, he didn’t care about being seen as a murderer.’

  ‘Wow. Some deal.’ Freyja kept an eye on Molly, who was sidling closer to Huldar and Saga, prepared to shut her out in the hall if she started growling at the guest. But the dog just lay down by his feet with a grunt. ‘The man must be seriously screwed up, to put it mildly, to have agreed to a deal like that.’

  ‘He claims he got cold feet. Had serious doubts. But every time he was on the point of backing out, something would happen to remind him how unendurable his daughter’s life was. Either it was Mördur deliberately rubbing it in or him noticing what a wretched state Adalheidur was in. He was haunted by the photos of Laufhildur and terrified that something like that might happen to her. In the end he says he stopped trying to suppress his rage and abandoned common sense. After that, there was no turning back. But he regretted the whole thing after he attacked Egill and couldn’t bring himself to put him out of his misery. Instead, he left the dying boy in a shipping container in the Mosfell district, according to plan. He just locked the door on him, hoping he’d be dead by the time the person who was to take over from him came to fetch his body.’

&nbs
p; ‘How incredibly noble.’ Freyja tried not to think about the dying boy. ‘Is that what happened?’

  ‘He doesn’t know. He didn’t see Egill again. The plan was that a different person would dump the bodies, to confuse the police. Haukur was sent to fetch Stella’s body and leave it in the car park behind the convenience store. The idea was that the obvious suspect – the parent of the bully’s main victim – would have a watertight alibi for the time the murder was carried out. Mördur arranged early on that his other killer would murder Stella on a Sunday while Haukur was at football; and presumably the other killer has a regular appointment on Tuesday evenings. That way, even if we did make the bullying link, the right parent would have an alibi. And Haukur was to say he’d been doing something on his own at the time he fetched Stella’s body from the container and moved it to the car park. They were hoping we wouldn’t question people too thoroughly about moving the bodies of the kids they clearly couldn’t have killed. Which, I have to admit, was what happened in his case. We focused entirely on the attacks.’

  Huldar poked his tongue out at Saga who closed her eyes with pleasure at the attention. Then he looked back at Freyja, pretending not to notice the bat as it whacked his face. ‘The idea was to con us into believing there was a single perpetrator, as the murders were so similar. Apparently Mördur gave Haukur access to the Just13 Snapchat account so he could send Egill threatening messages. I’m guessing he did the same for the other accomplice so he or she could scare Stella. Everything was set up to point to a single perpetrator. It would be enough for each killer to have an alibi for the other murder, because our attention would naturally be focused on Mördur as soon as he marched into the police station and confessed to the whole thing. On top of that, his flat was crammed with evidence to implicate him in both cases, so it would have been hard to come to any other conclusion.’