Hypothermia (36 page)
Authors: Arnaldur Indridason
‘I want to hear the truth,’ Erlendur said.
‘I’ve told you the truth,’ Baldvin said. ‘I’m not proud of what I did but I didn’t murder María. I didn’t do it. She committed suicide after I left for town.’
Erlendur stared at Baldvin for a long time without saying a word. Baldvin’s gaze flickered over to Karólína.
‘I think you did it,’ Erlendur said. ‘You did more than just push her towards suicide. You killed her. You put the noose round her neck. You hanged her from the beam.’
Karólína had sat down on the sofa. Baldvin was standing in the kitchen doorway.
‘Why are you saying this?’ he asked.
‘You two spun a web of lies for María and you’re still lying. I don’t believe a word you say.’
‘That’s your problem,’ Karólína retorted.
‘Yes, it’s my problem,’ Erlendur agreed.
‘You don’t know . . .’
‘How do you sleep at night?’
Baldvin didn’t answer.
‘What do you dream about, Baldvin?’
‘Leave him alone,’ Karólína said. ‘He hasn’t done anything.’
‘He told me you pushed him into it,’ Erlendur said, his eyes fixed on Karólína. ‘That it was your fault. I got the impression he was shifting all the blame on to you.’
‘He’s lying,’ Baldvin said.
‘He said you were the moving force behind this.’
‘Don’t listen to him,’ Baldvin interjected.
‘Calm down,’ Karólína said, her gaze on Baldvin, ‘I know what he’s trying to do.’
‘Was Baldvin the prime mover, then?’ Erlendur asked.
‘You won’t succeed,’ Karólína said. ‘Baldvin can say what he likes.’
‘Yes, of course,’ Erlendur said. ‘I don’t know whether to take any notice of anything he says. About himself. About you. About María.’
‘What you believe is your problem,’ Karólína said.
‘You’re actors,’ Erlendur said. ‘Both of you. You acted your roles for María. You wrote a scenario. You chose the setting. You chose the backdrop. She never suspected anything. Unless she found out about the defibrillator.’
‘The defibrillator?’ Karólína said.
‘Of course it was only there to flesh out the background,’ Erlendur said. ‘It was a – what do you call it? – a prop. It was never intended to work. It was never intended as a safety precaution. The machine was never intended to save María’s life. It was only a prop on the set you designed for an audience of one – for María.’
Karólína and Baldvin’s stares locked for an instant. Then Baldvin lowered his gaze to the floor.
‘The machine is broken,’ Erlendur told Karólína. ‘That’s why he had to retrieve it from the cottage. He used it to fool María. It was supposed to show that he was in earnest, that he would do everything in his power to ensure her safety.’
‘What do you think you know?’ Baldvin demanded.
‘I’m
sure
I know: you murdered her. You needed money that she alone had access to, unless she died before you. You were having an affair with Karólína and didn’t want María to know; you couldn’t divorce her because of the money. But you wanted Karólína. And I imagine living with María must have been wearing in the long run. Her mother was always there and even after Leonóra was gone it was as if she was still present in the house. María thought of nothing else. I expect you’d lost interest in her long before and that she was just in the way. In your way, in the way of both of you.’
sure
I know: you murdered her. You needed money that she alone had access to, unless she died before you. You were having an affair with Karólína and didn’t want María to know; you couldn’t divorce her because of the money. But you wanted Karólína. And I imagine living with María must have been wearing in the long run. Her mother was always there and even after Leonóra was gone it was as if she was still present in the house. María thought of nothing else. I expect you’d lost interest in her long before and that she was just in the way. In your way, in the way of both of you.’
‘Can you prove this bullshit?’ Karólína asked.
‘Were you here the evening we came to inform Baldvin of María’s death?’
Karólína hesitated a moment, then nodded.
‘I thought I saw a movement at the sitting-room window as I was driving away from the house.’
‘You should never have come here,’ Baldvin said, rounding on Karólína.
‘What happened at the cottage?’ Erlendur asked.
‘What I told you,’ Baldvin said. ‘Nothing else.’
‘And the defibrillator?’
‘I wanted to reassure her.’
‘I expect most of what you told me about causing her death is correct. And I expect she allowed you to kill her voluntarily. But she wanted to live, too. I assume that everything you told me about what happened after she passed out in the tub is a lie.’
Baldvin didn’t answer.
‘Something went wrong and you felt you had to stage a suicide,’ Erlendur said. ‘It would have been tidier if she had died as you wanted and as you had arranged so neatly; if she had died in the hot tub. But she didn’t, did she?’
Baldvin continued to stare at him in silence.
‘Something went wrong,’ Erlendur continued. ‘She regained consciousness. You had probably taken her out of the tub and were ready to lay her in bed. You had induced cardiac arrest. No one would have noticed anything. A post-mortem would have shown a heart attack from natural causes. You’re a doctor. You knew this. You’d got away with it. María had taken the bait. All you needed to do was betray her. Betray her trust. Break trust with an innocent who had long been teetering on the edge of despair. Not particularly noble – but then, you’re not much of a hero, are you?’
Karólína lowered her eyes to the floor.
‘Maybe you’d put her in bed,’ Erlendur said. ‘You were going to check her pulse one last time before hotfooting it back to town. You’d rung home and Karólína had taken your call. You wanted it to look as if María had called. You checked on her one last time and to your horror she was still alive. She wasn’t dead. Her heartbeat was weak but it was there. She had started breathing. There was a danger that she would wake up.’
Karólína listened to Erlendur in silence. She avoided looking at him.
‘Perhaps she did wake up. Perhaps she opened her eyes as you described and had crossed over into another world. Perhaps she did see something, but it’s more likely that she saw nothing. Perhaps she did tell you something about her experience but she didn’t have much time. And, anyway, she was exhausted.’
Baldvin didn’t answer.
‘Perhaps she realised what you were doing. She would probably have been too weak to fight. We saw no sign of a struggle. We know María suffocated when the noose tightened round her neck.’
Karólína stood up and went over to Baldvin.
‘Gradually her life ebbed away and María died.’
Karólína put her arms round Baldvin and stared at Erlendur.
‘Wasn’t it something like that?’ Erlendur asked. ‘Wasn’t that how María died in the end?’
‘It’s what she herself wanted,’ Baldvin said.
‘Some of it, maybe. Not all.’
‘She begged me to do it.’
‘And you did her a favour.’
Baldvin stared expressionlessly at Erlendur.
‘I think you should get out,’ he said.
‘Did she tell you something?’ Erlendur asked. ‘About Leonóra?’
Baldvin shook his head.
‘About her father?’ Erlendur asked. ‘She must have said something about her father.’
‘You should go,’ Baldvin said. ‘You’re deluded. I should sue you for harassment.’
‘Didn’t she say anything about her father?’ Erlendur asked again.
Baldvin didn’t answer.
Erlendur stared at them for a long time before making his way to the hall.
‘What now?’ Karólína asked. ‘What are you going to do about this?’
Erlendur opened the front door, then turned back.
‘It looks as if you’ve done it,’ he said.
‘Done what?’
‘What you meant to do,’ Erlendur said. ‘You deserve each other.’
‘Aren’t you going to take any action?’ Karólína asked.
‘There’s not much I can do,’ Erlendur said, making to close the door behind him. ‘I’ll report the case to my superiors but—’
‘Wait,’ Baldvin said.
Erlendur turned back again.
‘She did mention her father,’ Baldvin said.
‘I thought so,’ Erlendur said. ‘That she would probably have done so at the very end.’
Baldvin nodded.
‘I thought she wanted to make contact with her mother,’ he said.
‘But that was wrong, wasn’t it?’ Erlendur said.
‘Yes,’ Baldvin said.
‘She was longing to meet her father, wasn’t she?’ Erlendur said.
‘I didn’t quite understand what she said. She wanted him to forgive her. What was he supposed to forgive?’
‘You never will understand.’
‘What?’
Baldvin stared at Erlendur.
‘Was it . . . was it . . . María? She was with them in the boat when Magnús died. Did she blame herself for what happened to him?’
Erlendur shook his head.
‘You couldn’t have found a more helpless victim,’ he said and closed the door behind him.
Erlendur rushed into the nursing home and up to the old man’s ward. He was not in his room and Erlendur was informed that he had been moved to another. Erlendur hurried there and was shown in to see the old man who was lying under a thick duvet, invisible except for his head and his gaunt face and the bony hands lying on the cover.
‘He died a short time ago,’ the nurse who accompanied Erlendur said. ‘It was a peaceful death. He was never any trouble.’
Erlendur sat down by the bed and took the old man’s hand in his.
‘Davíd was in love,’ he said quietly. ‘He . . .’
Erlendur brushed a hand over the old man’s forehead. He pictured Gudrún and Davíd as it finally became apparent that they would not be able to escape from the car and they held hands, resigned to their fate, as their life ebbed away and their hearts stopped beating in the cold water.
‘I wish I could have come a bit sooner,’ he said.
The nurse crept out of the room, leaving them alone.
‘He’d met a girl,’ Erlendur said after a long silence. ‘He didn’t die alone. It was an accident. He didn’t commit suicide. He wasn’t depressed or unhappy when he died. He was happy. He was in love with a girl he had met and they were fooling around – they were in high spirits; you’d have understood. They died together. He was with his girl and he was probably going to tell you about her when he got home, that she was at the university and was great fun and absolutely obsessed with lakes. That she was his girl. His girl, for ever.’
37
Erlendur stood by the derelict farm that had once been his home, looking up at Mount Hardskafi. It was difficult to see the mountain because of the icy fog that was sinking ever lower over the fjord. He was well equipped, in his old walking boots, thick waterproof trousers and a warm down jacket. After gazing at the mountain for a long time in solemn silence, he set off on foot, with a walking stick in his hand and a small pack on his back. He made quick progress, enfolded in the hush of nature now fallen into its winter sleep. Before long he had disappeared into the cold fog.
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