House of Evidence (26 page)

W
hat is this supposed to mean, dragging me out of the house like a common criminal?” Matthías snarled at Halldór when Egill brought him into the office.

“I think, sir, that you haven’t been completely honest with us,” Halldór replied calmly.

“In what respect?”

“We have a witness who states that you were at Birkihlíd on the evening Jacob Junior was murdered.”

“I have not concealed that fact. I do not recall having been asked where I was that evening or whether I had visited Birkihlíd. If you had asked or if I had thought that was of importance to you, I would of course have mentioned it.”

Halldór bit his lip; Matthías had a point. He had probably not been directly asked about his whereabouts that evening.

“What was your business with Jacob?” he asked, moving on.

“You could say it was just an ordinary courtesy call.”

“Did you notice anything unusual that evening?”

“No.”

“How long did you stay at Birkihlíd?”

“I arrived there at about ten o’clock and left for home about an hour later. Klemenz will confirm that I arrived home shortly after eleven.”

“We’ll check that later,” Halldór promised. “Now to your father’s will; according to it, your brother Jacob inherited the entire estate. You are not mentioned in it at all, sir. Why would that be?”

“My father was not happy that I went abroad to study music, as he did not feel it was a suitable study. When I refused to comply with his wishes in this matter, he disinherited me.”

“So then how did you come to own half of Birkihlíd?”

“I see. You think that there is something strange about that. Well, it’s quite simple. My brother ceded half the property to me after our father’s death. The title deed was notarized accordingly.”

Halldór looked at Egill. “Get hold of someone at the city magistrate’s office and find out if that document exists,” he said. Then, as Egill made his departure, he turned his attention back to Matthías. “Why did Jacob Senior assign half the property to you?”

“There were personal reasons. You could say that he was not happy about our father’s behavior and wanted to make it up to me.”

Halldór regarded Matthías silently for a long time, and then said, “Do you really expect me to believe this?”

“Yes. It is the truth, my good man.”

Halldór shook his head and glanced at his notebook, where he had listed in advance a number of issues he wanted to address with Matthías. “You arrived in the country on July 9, 1945. Six days later your brother was murdered. On your arrival, he stopped keeping the diary that he had written every day since he was twenty years old. Can you explain this?”

“No. Naturally, my brother’s death was as traumatic for me as for the rest of the family. The fact that I had only just arrived in the country was a coincidence.”

“So you leave the country and don’t visit again for nearly thirty years. And then on this second visit, your nephew is murdered with the same gun.”

“If you are insinuating that I had anything to do with this, you are barking up the wrong tree.”

“So tell me the truth about what you were doing in Birkihlíd on the evening Jacob Junior was shot.”

“The truth? Oh, well. I do not mind telling you exactly what passed between us. Jacob Junior phoned me that evening and asked me to come by. He said it was about the sale of the house. I did as he asked. He had apparently come into possession of a parcel of documents that contained, among other things, my father’s will. He, like you, had come to the conclusion that it threw some doubt on my ownership of half the house. I told him what I told you, that his father had ceded this half of the property to me.”

“How did he react?”

“He was disappointed, of course. He had assumed that it had meant he could acquire possession at less cost to himself.”

“What happened after that?”

“I reminded him that the next payment for the house was due, and went home.”

Satisfied for the moment with his reply, Halldór turned to the next item on his list. “We have learned from Salzburg that everything is not all it seems in your relationship with Klemenz, your manservant. Do you have anything to say about that?”

“Our relationship is our private affair and does not concern you in any way.”

“So you admit there is more to it than an ordinary relationship between master and servant?”

“I don’t have to admit anything of the kind,” he replied coldly. “These are inappropriate questions.”

“I am simply showing that there is more than meets the eye as far as you are concerned, sir,” Halldór said.

At that moment, Egill reentered the room, and Halldór paused, awaiting the detective’s report.

“There was an official at the city magistrates when I called them who was able to look into this,” said Egill. “The document exists, notarized and dated July 12, 1945.”

“Right,” said Halldór, turning back to Matthías. “That’s three days after your return to Iceland and three days before Jacob was murdered. Certainly convenient for you.”

“There is no connection between the reassignment and my brother’s death. I can assure you of that.” Matthías’s face reddened and his breathing quickened.

Halldór pressed on. “In your brother’s diaries there is an entry to the effect that you had been involved in some sort of disreputable activity in 1928, and that you had left the country as a consequence. What can you tell me about that?”

“Sir,” Matthías said. “It is now 1973, forty-five years have passed since that time. What in heaven’s name is the purpose of stirring all this up?”

“I am simply demonstrating that you cannot be trusted.”

“This is inappropriate talk,” Matthías declared.

Halldór ignored his protests and continued. “You told my associate that it was not true that you and your brother were involved in the so-called royal affair. We have, however, found unequivocal confirmation of this involvement in your brother’s diaries.”

Matthías was quiet for a while, and then said, “So now you know. So what? Will I be charged with treason? Hardly. The only thing that can come out of this is cheap tittle-tattle that will make money for unscrupulous gossip writers, who will distort the story and misrepresent it, and a family name that would otherwise soon disappear from history will become synonymous with some fantasy of treason and dark deeds. High ideals and the struggle to bring them to reality would be made to appear absurd and ridiculous. I think it is in our nation’s interest to keep this quiet. Mark my words, mister policeman!”

Halldór sighed and then looked down at his list. There was nothing left to address, so he stood up and beckoned Egill to accompany him outside.

“What do you think?” he asked when they were out in the corridor.

“We’ll have to do a search of his home. Maybe we’ll find the gun,” Egill replied.

“Yes, possibly.”

“Let’s lock him up in Sídumúli in the meantime so he can think things over. We’ll talk to him again this evening and see what he’s got to say then,” Egill suggested.

“Do you think that’s necessary?”

“It’s bound to work. Guys like him start to talk when they see the inside of a jail.”

Halldór mulled this over. He was very disappointed in Matthías; he had begun to like the man, and now he turns out to be nothing but a liar and a homosexual. It was impossible to distinguish truth from falsehood in his testimony. Egill was right: they had to search for the weapon in Matthías’s home, and it wouldn’t hurt to demonstrate the seriousness of their intentions.

“All right then, but treat him gently,” Halldór warned and then added, “Take Marteinn along with you.”

Diary XVI

July 14, 1938. Matthías met us on the quay here in Hamburg, and we proceeded directly to the railroad station. We are waiting to set off for Berlin…

July 15, 1938. Arrived in Berlin (Anhalter Bahnhof), early this morning. Went to the hotel and then to a meeting with Birgir Valdal. He invited us to supper in a restaurant called Die Grüne Traube on Kurfürstendamm. Birgir has arranged interviews with three aristocrats of this country, men he feels are suitable candidates for kingship…

July 16, 1938. Everything is in place regarding the setting up of Isländische Bahn AG. Helmut Klee arranged for an attorney to finalize the documents, and they are now ready for signing. Matthías, as a resident of this country, will sit on the board on my behalf. He had been planning to move to America, but I have prevailed upon him to put those plans on hold and he has agreed…

July 20, 1938. Living conditions here in Germany seem, at first glance, to have improved a great deal since the last time I was here. Mortality rates
among children and adolescents have fallen within a short period, and are now lower than in England. Tuberculosis and other diseases are much less prevalent. Judges have never had so little work, and there have never been so few prisoners in jails. It is a pleasure seeing young people looking so sturdy and healthy. The poor are now better dressed than ever before and their faces reflect an attitude change…

July 21, 1938. Birgir Valdal took us to see Herr von Kuppel. He is a high-ranking official in the Department of the Interior and was very agreeable, a tall and handsome man. His wife is of an Austrian noble family and they have three children, two sons and one daughter. He knew of our business and received us warmly. He is prepared to go to Iceland and introduce himself. This could happen as soon as next summer. He invited us to a Youth League rally tomorrow…

July 22, 1938. Herr von Kuppel escorted us to VIP seats in the stadium. This worker youth movement sprang up of its own accord among students, and met with the approval of the government, which has supported and developed it. Students must have participated in the League’s work for six months in order to qualify for possible employment in official
posts, though in other respects such participation is largely voluntary. The rally began with a march that was drilled to a standard that fully trained soldiers would have been proud of. The bands played with great skill, with one person directing all exercises and displays. The climax of this pageantry came when the various groups flocked into the arena and arranged themselves into a series of military-style columns. Instead of weapons, they carried shovels, whose blades glinted in the sunshine as these regiments of youth paraded by. Now began a strange memorial ceremony, so simple and solemn, genuine and serious, that it mostly resembled a religious service, in the best sense of the word. Trumpets sounded and the audience stood up while hundreds of flags saluted. Then came a kind of litany and dialogue. First one person spoke, and sometimes the platoon leaders replied, at other times the whole group of workers. The main content of the speeches and songs was to encourage work and concerted effort for the fatherland, the brotherhood of all classes, magnanimity in everything, and complete trust in the Führer. It occurred to me that such a movement in Iceland would be able to tackle the building of the railroad, something that is undeniably in the interest of the whole nation…

July 25, 1938. Met with the Mannheim Stahlwerke representative in the Department of Commerce. The German consul in Iceland has done a good job. Everyone here involved in the business is completely familiar with it. The Department of Commerce has negotiated a loan for Isländische Bahn AG. The mechanical engineer presented a design for the locomotive. It is the latest type of dual-mode electro-diesel, powered by diesel oil or electricity…

July 26, 1938. I have had doubts about the Hitler regime’s decision to ban other political parties, and political discussion in the newspapers. People seem, however, not to miss it. I have asked people whether they do not find it dull that all the newspapers are of one opinion. One man replied that I had clearly not had to put up with over forty political parties fighting to get people to buy and read their papers, with each one of those papers claiming to report and defend the one and only true point of view. Some papers carried scandals and slanders about people and businesses, for days on end, year in year out, all more or less lies. The German nation, having had to tolerate this, is now grateful for peace. Now people can sit down with a newspaper without a feeling of sinking deep into mud and mire. The difference
between the press before 1933 and that of today is principally that previously the papers had license to dehumanize and stultify their readers. Now that license has been taken away…

July 30, 1938. I feel certain that the German authorities seek peace. There are, however, some German leaders who prefer to gain a little by conflict rather than much by negotiation, but these men can be stopped if other countries demonstrate some resolve. The younger generation in Germany is fired up by military enthusiasm, and this produces anxiety elsewhere in the world, but it is preposterous to presume that these young men are longing to kill or be killed. They may kill or be killed, however, if other nations do not conduct themselves sensibly, but that is another story. Of course it is necessary for this nation to arm itself now, with the ever-increasing communist threat in the east. I am convinced that should Stalin present a danger to Germany, the British and the French will come to their assistance. The proliferation of communism must be stopped with all available means…