Black Skies (34 page)

‘Did you ask him to hit Lína?’

‘I asked him to get them off our backs. I didn’t go into any specifics. She was blackmailing my sister. She slept with Patrekur – I thought she was going to take him away from me. I just wanted to get them off our backs.’

‘Súsanna, your sister is involved in the sort of sex that carries the risk of running into people like Lína. And it was Patrekur who fell for her. You can hardly blame her for that.’

‘She wasn’t supposed to die,’ said Súsanna. Tears were pricking at her eyes.

He saw that she was fighting a losing battle to stop herself breaking down.

‘I didn’t ask them to do that. I was, I was so angry. With Patrekur of course, but with her too. She was destroying us – she was going to put the photos on the Internet.’

‘Was it your sister’s idea?’ asked Sigurdur Óli.

Súsanna took a deep breath. She was holding back the sobs now.

‘Are you trying to protect her?’ asked Sigurdur Óli.

‘She knew about Höddi too – about what he did for my friend. She asked if I could talk to him, persuade him to retrieve the photos since she couldn’t do it herself. Höddi has always been very kind and sweet and nice to me and the rest of my class, so I’ve tried to ignore what he does, or what people say he does. I didn’t want to know.’

‘So she’s involved too?’

‘Yes.’

‘The man Höddi sent to do the job claimed that he’d received veiled instructions to give Lína a beating; to retrieve the pictures
and
give her something to remember him by. In the event, he hit her too hard. Do you think Höddi got the message wrong?’

‘I don’t know. I should never have talked to him. You can’t imagine how terrible I’ve been feeling.’

‘No, I don’t suppose I can.’

‘What am I to do? What can I do? My life is over. And my sister’s too. You have to help us. And all because of those shits!’

Sigurdur Óli said nothing. He had been devastated about losing Súsanna, though he had never admitted it, either to her or to his friend. Only once had the subject of their cinema date come up in conversation after she and Patrekur had started going out. This was several weeks afterwards, during a party at Patrekur’s house, when Súsanna had told him that she had not been aware that he and Patrekur were friends. ‘It doesn’t matter,’ he replied. ‘Is everything OK between us, then?’ she asked. He nodded. ‘Forget it,’ he said.

‘I can’t give you any advice, Súsanna,’ he said now. ‘Except for the obvious: don’t try to kid yourself that the situation is better than it is, either for you or for Patrekur or Höddi or Lína. That’s the way it was and is and always will be. The sooner you face up to that, the better.’

‘It was an accident. She wasn’t supposed to die. She was never supposed to go and die.’

Neither of them spoke. Súsanna looked out of the window at the city stretching out to the sea.

‘You had your reasons,’ said Sigurdur Óli finally.

‘Which don’t impress you.’

‘Some are easier to understand than others. The other day I was sent some old film footage of a boy of maybe ten or twelve who’s suffered all his life. The footage only lasts around twelve seconds but it says it all, his whole life in a nutshell: how he suffered neglect and violent abuse, and maybe it provides all the explanations
necessary
for why he ended up the way he did and what he has turned into, thirty years later.’

Sigurdur Óli stood up.

‘I’ve always avoided joining in with the chorus of hand-wringers, but the fact is that you can’t help being affected by horror stories like that. I would understand if
he
wanted revenge …’

‘But not me?’ said Súsanna.

At that moment the door opened and Patrekur walked in. He had recognised Sigurdur Óli’s car in the drive and could not hide his anxiety.

‘What’s going on?’ he asked. Immediately detecting that something was wrong, he tried to put his arms round Súsanna but she would not let him and backed away, holding up her hands as if to prevent him from touching her.

‘What?’ asked Patrekur.

‘Súsanna?’ said Sigurdur Óli.

She started to cry.

‘Súsanna knows –’

‘I’ll do it, let me do it,’ she interrupted.

‘All right,’ he said. ‘I’ll wait outside.’

A little over an hour later he accompanied them both to the police station on Hverfisgata. Patrekur was allowed no further than the entrance, where they said their goodbyes. He had not fully grasped the sequence of events yet and it seemed as if he would never be able to tear himself away from his wife.

Sigurdur Óli tracked down Finnur and, after informing him of the latest developments, formally resigned from the investigation. He appreciated the fact that Finnur spared him any reprimand. He learned that Alain Sörensen had been arrested in Luxembourg on suspicion of money laundering and that the three Icelandic bankers would be critical witnesses in the case against him.

Given the way the two cases were linked, Sigurdur Óli could have no further involvement with the investigation into Thorfinnur’s death, but before going home he decided to have one more conversation with Sverrir, who was waiting to be transferred from his cell at Hverfisgata into custody at Litla-Hraun.

‘Why did you go to Snaefellsnes?’ he asked once the steel door had closed behind him.

Sverrir was sitting on the blue mattress. After a sleepless night, he had spent the morning with his lawyer. The formal interview process would begin that afternoon, at Litla-Hraun.

‘Was it for the sole purpose of getting rid of Thorfinnur?’

Sverrir did not answer. He was sitting with his back to the wall, head sunk on his chest.

‘Or was it to get him back on side?’

Sverrir still did not speak.

‘Thorfinnur had found out the source of the money you were laundering for Sörensen. He was angry because he didn’t want any part in porn, least of all child porn. Though you were OK with it. Arnar and Knútur don’t seem to have had any opinion, but Thorfinnur wanted to quit. And that wasn’t all; he wanted to report what was going on, and your part in it, to the authorities. He wanted to come clean, to absolve himself of what you’d got him mixed up in and try to make a new start.’

Sverrir was as silent as the grave.

‘Then you had an idea about how to get rid of him. You’d take a short trip out of town – after all, everyone knows that things can go wrong in the wilderness, what with the landscape and climate being so fraught with danger. You wanted Arnar and Knútur to come along to allay any suspicion. It was supposed to look like a working holiday. I don’t know what part they played in Thorfinnur’s death but perhaps you could enlighten me? Then at the last minute they decided to climb the glacier, or was that planned as well?

‘No doubt you and Thorfinnur quarrelled,’ continued Sigurdur Óli. ‘You had all tried to talk him round but Thorfinnur wouldn’t budge. He’d made millions, tens of millions, but he wanted to give it all back. You told him he’d bring the rest of you down with him. You told him you could sort things out, take over his share of the loan and cover his tracks. It would have been possible, but Thorfinnur didn’t want that, he wanted to atone for the crime; he just couldn’t ignore where the money came from.’

Sverrir straightened up and sat forward on the bed.

‘I had no part in Thorfinnur’s death,’ he said at last. ‘What you say about the money is true. I don’t know what Arnar and Knútur have told you but I can hardly deny having taken part in money laundering with them and Alain Sörensen. I’m prepared to take responsibility for that. But I had no part in Thorfinnur’s death. We had an argument, you’re right. We quarrelled about money, about our secret accounts and the origin of the funds. He couldn’t ignore how the money was made. I told him it didn’t matter but that if he wanted to quit, we’d all quit. But it wasn’t enough; he wanted to give the money back, open the accounts and tell the police the whole story. The rest of us had agreed to cut our ties to Sörensen; we were even prepared to give back the money; we were ready to do almost everything Thorfinnur asked but we couldn’t agree to make the matter public the way he wanted.’

Sverrir stood up and took a deep breath.

‘That’s what we quarrelled about,’ he said. ‘That was the only thing we wouldn’t do. We’d agreed to the rest.’

‘So you pushed him over a cliff?’

‘I left him behind,’ said Sverrir. ‘We had a row about the accounts and about Sörensen. He wouldn’t give an inch, so I told him he could go to hell and left him on his own while I went to fetch the car. I was angry.’

‘Before, you only said you’d gone to fetch the car. You said nothing about a row.’

‘Well, I admit it now,’ said Sverrir. ‘You seem to know all about the accounts anyway. I lost my temper and left him. It’s up to you whether you believe me or not but that’s the truth. I blame myself for what happened to him – I haven’t had a moment’s peace since then. I was indirectly responsible for his death – I admit that – by leaving him, but it wasn’t murder. I deny that; I deny that categorically. I always meant to go back for him, but then he went and got himself killed.’

Sigurdur Óli studied Sverrir and Sverrir avoided his gaze, standing there awkwardly, staring at the four walls that hemmed him in and now seemed to be pressing in from all sides.

‘Did he have any suspicion of what you intended to do?’ asked Sigurdur Óli. ‘Towards the end?’

‘Didn’t you hear what I said? I wasn’t there.’

‘Did he die the moment he hit the rocks? Or did he live a little while longer?’ Sigurdur Óli continued mercilessly.

‘I didn’t touch him,’ protested Sverrir.

‘Did you hear his screams as he fell?’

‘I’m not answering that. It’s not worthy of an answer.’

‘It may not be easy to prove it but the fact is that you organised the trip, you took Thorfinnur with you, you came back alone, and you had a huge amount to lose. I doubt you’ll get away with this.’

Sigurdur Óli turned and knocked on the steel door for someone to open it.

‘I didn’t kill him,’ said Sverrir.

‘I think you’re still in denial,’ said Sigurdur Óli. ‘I think the judges will take Thorfinnur’s side. I believe you pushed him; I believe you saw an opportunity to get rid of him. It’s conceivable that you planned it before you went to Snaefellsnes – you and the others. Or possibly it was just a moment of madness. It makes no difference. But you pushed him over the edge.’

There was a slight squeak as the door opened and Sigurdur Óli stepped out into the corridor, thanked the guard, then locked the door painstakingly behind him. Sverrir hammered on the inside and started to shout.

‘Speak to me! Speak to me!’

There was a hatch in the door. Sigurdur Óli opened it and they eyed each other through the hole. Sverrir was scarlet in the face.

‘It was an accident,’ he said.

Sigurdur Óli merely looked at him.

‘It was an accident!’ Sverrir repeated, more emphatically. ‘An accident!’

Sigurdur Óli closed the hatch again and walked away, affecting not to hear when Sverrir started banging and kicking the door and yelling from the depths of his cell that it had been an accident, that he had had nothing to do with Thorfinnur’s death.

53

LATE THAT EVENING
the phone rang in Sigurdur Óli’s flat. It was Patrekur, asking if he could drop by. Not long afterwards there was a knock at his door and he opened it to find his friend standing there, looking lost.

‘It was my fault,’ he said. ‘I’m the one who should go to prison.’

‘Come in, I was just going to have some tea.’ Sigurdur Óli showed him into the kitchen.

‘I don’t want anything,’ said Patrekur. ‘I just want to talk to you. What do you think will happen?’

‘I gather Súsanna has confessed to her part in the attack on Lína,’ said Sigurdur Óli, who had phoned the station earlier. ‘That she got Höddi to go and fetch the photos – she and her sister. While you and Hermann were talking to me, they were talking to Höddi.’

‘I had no idea.’

‘You told Súsanna that you’d slept with Lína.’

‘She completely lost it. She thought Lína was trying to destroy our marriage.’

‘And Höddi put Thórarinn on the case.’

‘Súsanna never told me what Höddi did for a living. He was just some friend from the old days. And Lína was no angel – far from it. I tried to explain that to Súsanna but she just screamed at me, said she never wanted to see me again. She blames me for the whole mess and I can understand that. She has to come to terms with having caused the death of another human being.’

‘Indirectly,’ said Sigurdur Óli.

‘That’s not the way she sees it.’

‘Her sister and Hermann must take some of the blame. You have to look at the bigger picture.’

‘She’s angriest of all with me.’

‘Look, the blame lies mainly with that lunatic Thórarinn who got carried away,’ said Sigurdur Óli. ‘Although I’m not excusing Súsanna’s foolishness. Or any of yours. Next time you feel tempted to cheat on your wife, either forget it or keep your mouth shut.’

‘What now?’ asked Patrekur eventually.

‘She’ll have to serve a prison sentence.’

‘She’s been in a very bad way lately. I just didn’t notice because I was so caught up in my own stupid affairs. I can see now that she was hardly in her right mind some days.’

‘You should try to support her.’

‘If she’ll have me any more.’

‘Well, you’ll both just have to live with it. Maybe it’ll bring you closer.’

‘I wouldn’t want to lose her.’

‘Nor would I,’ said Sigurdur Óli.

‘What about you? Are you in trouble because of us?’

‘I’ll survive,’ said Sigurdur Óli.

54

HE SAT OUTSIDE
the block of flats on Kleppsvegur, keeping an eye on the newspaper in the postbox. As usual, the radio was tuned to a station playing mostly classic rock. He was sleepy, as he had sat up late the night before watching the American football. Just briefly he had toyed with the idea of going to bed with a book. He had been given an Icelandic novel for Christmas nearly a year ago which was still in its wrapping, so he took it out of the drawer, tore off the plastic and started reading, only to return it to the drawer shortly afterwards.