Arctic Chill (5 page)

'They've just moved into this neighbourhood,' Sigurdur Óli said.

'His brother's quite different,' Agnes said.

'How?'

'I don't know him that well, like I said, but I get the impression
that he's much tougher. He's not afraid to stand up for himself and he's proud
of his origins, proud of being Thai. You don't find that among the children
very often, not among any of them really; they seem to know precious little
about their origins. I noticed that about him once when he was talking about
his great-grandfather. Niran had great respect for him. And for his other
relatives in Thailand.'

Sunee's next-door neighbour was a man of about seventy who lived alone. He had not heard the news and said he was shocked to see the police cars and people milling around the block of flats when he came home. He wrangled with the police officers at the entrance when they wanted to know who he was and where he lived, because he did not like that kind of interrogation. The police would not tell him what had happened. So he was rather distraught when Erlendur greeted him on the landing below the top floor and introduced himself as a detective with the Reykjavík CID.

'What's going on here?' the man asked, short of breath from climbing the stairs. He held a plastic bag in one hand, was of average height and wore a shabby suit and a tie that did not match, underneath a green anorak. Erlendur thought he looked haggard, like many of the solitary individuals he encountered. The man was thin, with a receding hairline, fairly large protruding eyes and delicate eyebrows below a high, intelligent forehead.

Erlendur explained the situation to him and saw that he took the news badly.

'Elías!' he groaned, looking over at the door to Sunee's flat. 'What are you saying? The poor child! Who did it? Have you found the person who did it?'

Erlendur shook his head. 'Do you know the family?' he asked.

'I don't believe it. All those police cars ... because of Elías ... What does his mother say, the poor woman? She must be devastated.'

'They've been your next-door neighbours for . . . ?' Erlendur began.

'Who could do a thing like that?'

'You must have got to know them,' Erlendur said.

'Eh? Oh yes, I've got to know them. Elías sometimes pops out to the shop for me, such a dear boy. He's up and down these stairs in a flash. I just can't believe this.'

'I need to ask you a couple of questions, if you don't mind,' Erlendur said. 'As their neighbour.'

'Me?'

'It won't take a moment'

'Come in then,' the man said, taking out a bunch of keys. He switched on the light inside his flat. Erlendur noticed a large bookcase, an old three-piece suite and a worn carpet. Two walls of the sitting room were decorated with white ribbed wallpaper, which was swollen in places and beginning to turn very yellow. The man, whose name was Gestur according to the small copper plate on the door, closed the door behind them and offered Erlendur a seat on the sofa. He sat down in the chair facing him. He had taken off his thick green anorak, put the plastic bag in the kitchen and turned on the coffee maker.

'What can you tell me about Sunee and her boys?' Erlendur asked.

'I have nothing but good to say of them. She works hard, their mother, she has to, being on her own like that. The boys have been nothing but polite to me. Elías has run errands and Niran . . . Where's Niran? How's he taking this?' Gestur asked with apparent concern.

Erlendur hesitated.

'Surely he hasn't been attacked too?' Gestur groaned.

'No,' Erlendur said, 'but we don't know where he is. Do you have any ideas?'

'About where he could be? No, I don't have a clue.'

Erlendur was deeply concerned about the victim's brother but could only hope that he would come home or be found as soon as possible. He felt it was premature to put his photograph on television.

'Hopefully he's just hanging around somewhere,' he said. 'What kind of relationship did the two brothers have?'

'He really looked up to Niran – Elías, I mean. I think he worshipped his brother. He was always talking about him. What Niran said and did. How Niran won computer games and how good he was at football and how he took him to the cinema with his friends even though they were all older. Niran knew everything and could do anything in Elías's eyes. They're like chalk and cheese, the way brothers can be. Elías is quick to make friends but Niran is slower to get to know and more wary of people. Sharp as a knife. On the ball and quick to learn. He doesn't trust everything he sees and hears, plays it cautiously.'

'You seem to know them very well.'

'Elías is a bit lonely, the poor lad. He preferred living where they were before. Their mother often gets home late from work and Elías has been hanging around by himself in the corridor or down in the storage rooms and passages in the basement'

'What about Sunee?'

'There ought to be more people who work as hard as she does. Sunee provides for herself and her sons through sheer hard graft. I admire her.'

'Is she completely on her own?'

'As far as I know. I understand her ex-husband has little to do with her.'

'Did Elías have any contact with anyone else on this staircase?'

'I don't think so. There isn't much contact between the tenants. These are all rented flats and you know the kind of people who are in the rental market. Always coming and going, individuals and couples and single mothers like Sunee, even single fathers, students. Some get evicted. Others pay their rent on time.'

'So does someone own the entire block?'

'All the flats on this floor at least, some speculator I imagine. I've never seen him. When I moved in a woman from the rental agency handled the paperwork and gave me an account number. If anything crops up I get in touch with the agency.'

'And the rent, is it high?'

'I could well imagine it is for Sunee. Unless she's got a different deal from mine.'

Erlendur stood up. The coffee was untouched in the coffee maker in the kitchen. The aroma filled the whole flat. Gestur stood up as well. He had not offered Erlendur any coffee. Erlendur peered into the dim hallway entrance. There was a peephole in the door, just above the nameplate. Looking through it, he could see the entrance to Sunee and the boys' flat. Erlendur looked Gestur in the eye and thanked him.

Erlendur's mobile rang yet again. He did not recognise the number but he knew at once who was calling when he heard the voice.

'Is it a bad moment?' Eva Lind asked.

'No,' said Erlendur, who had not heard from his daughter for some time.

'I saw about that kid on TV,' Eva said. 'Are you on that case?'

'Yes, me and other people. All of us, I think.'

'Do you know what happened?'

'No. We know very little.'

'It's ... it's horrific'

'Yes.'

Eva paused.

'You all right?' Erlendur said after a while.

'I want to see you.'

'Do. Come home.'

Eva paused again.

'Isn't she always there?'

'Who?'

'That woman you're with.'

'Valgerdur? No. Sometimes.'

'I don't want to interrupt anything.'

'You won't.

'Are you together?'

'We're good friends.'

'Is she all right?'

'Valgerdur is very . . .' Erlendur hesitated. 'What do you mean, "all right"?'

'Not as bad as Mum?'

'I think...'

'She can't be as bad as Mum or you wouldn't bother to be with her. And definitely not as bad as me.'

'She's no better than anyone else,' Erlendur said. 'I'm not comparing you. You shouldn't either.'

'Isn't she the first woman you've been with since you left us? She must have something.'

'You ought to meet her.'

'I want to see you.'

'Do, then.'

'Bye.'

Eva rang off and Erlendur put his mobile in his pocket.

He had seen Valgerdur two days before. She came round to his flat in the evening when her shift was over and he gave her a glass of Chartreuse. She told him she had applied formally for a divorce from her husband, the doctor, and had appointed a lawyer.

Valgerdur was a biotechnician at the National Hospital. Erlendur had met her by chance during a murder investigation and found out that she was having problems in her private life. She was married but her husband had repeatedly cheated on her and she had eventually left him. She and Erlendur decided to take things slowly. They did not live together. Valgerdur wanted to live by herself for a while after her long marriage and Erlendur had not lived with a woman for decades. Nor was there any hurry. Erlendur liked being alone. Sometimes she telephoned him, wanting to visit. Sometimes they went out for a meal together. Once she had succeeded in dragging him along to the theatre, to see Ibsen. He had nodded off fifteen minutes into the play. In vain she tried to nudge him awake but he slept most of the time until the interval when they decided to go home. 'All that artificial drama,' he had said by way of an apology, 'it does nothing for me.'

'Theatre is reality too,' she'd protested.

'Not like this,' he'd said, handing her volume two of
Stories of Rural Postmen.

Erlendur had lent her some of his books that described ordeals in the wilderness and how people had frozen to death outdoors in Iceland in the old days, and others about death and destruction caused by avalanches. Although apprehensive at first, the more accounts she read, the more her interest had become aroused. Erlendur's interest in the topic was unquenchable.

'The lawyer thinks we can divide everything up more or less equally,' she said, sipping her liqueur.

'That's good,' Erlendur said. He knew they had lived in a large detached house close to the old children's hospital and wondered which of them would get the house. He asked whether it was important to her.

'No,' she said. 'He was always much fonder of the house. Apparently he's found himself a new woman.'

'Really?'

'Someone from the hospital. A young nurse.'

'Do you think anyone can create a good relationship when both parties have been unfaithful?' he asked, thinking about a missing-person case he was investigating. 'Do you think anyone can create a good, solid relationship if they've both cheated before?'

'I didn't,' Valgerdur said. 'He repeatedly cheated on me with any woman who would stand still long enough.'

'I'm not talking about you, but about a case I'm dealing with.'

'The missing woman?'

'Yes.'

'Do you think they both cheated before they got together?'

Erlendur nodded. He rarely discussed the cases he was handling with anyone else. Valgerdur was an exception. So was Eva.

'I don't know,' Valgerdur said. 'Obviously it can be difficult if both parties have left their spouses under circumstances like that. There are bound to be repercussions.'

'Why shouldn't it happen again?' Erlendur asked.

'You shouldn't forget about love though.'

'Love?'

'You shouldn't underestimate love. Sometimes two people are prepared to sacrifice everything for a new relationship. Maybe that's true love.'

'Yes, but what if one of them finds this true love at regular intervals?' Erlendur said.

'Did she leave on account of his cheating? Had he started again?'

'I don't know,' Erlendur said.

'Were you cheating when you got divorced?'

Surprised at the question, he smiled.

'No,' he said. 'I have no idea how to go about that sort of thing. In Icelandic, we talk about practising adultery. Like a hobby or a sport.'

'So you're wondering whether the man betrayed this woman's trust?'

Erlendur shrugged.

'Why did she disappear?'

'That's the question.'

'You don't know any more than that?'

'Not really.'

Valgerdur paused.

'How can you drink this Chartreuse?' she asked with a grimace.

'I happen to like it,' Erlendur smiled.

When Erlendur went back to Sunee's flat her ex-mother-in-law had arrived, a fairly slim, intense woman aged about sixty. She had rushed up the stairs and hugged Sunee, who was waiting for her on the landing. Sunee seemed relieved to have Elías's grandmother with her. Erlendur sensed that their relationship was warm. They had not yet been able to contact Elías's father. He was not at home and his mobile was switched off. Sunee thought he had recently changed jobs and did not know the name of the company he worked for.

The grandmother talked to Sunee in half-whispers. Her brother and the interpreter stood a little way off, to give them space. Erlendur looked up at the red lampshade with the yellow dragon on it. The dragon seemed to be curled around a little dog, but he could not work out whether it was to protect or to curse the dog.

'Such a terrible tragedy!' The woman sighed and looked at the interpreter, whom she seemed to recognise. 'Who could have done such a thing?'

Sunee said something to her brother and they went into the kitchen with Gudný.

The grandmother looked over and noticed Erlendur.

'And who are you?' she asked.

Erlendur explained his involvement in the case. The woman introduced herself as Sigrídur. She asked Erlendur to tell her exactly what had happened, what the police were doing, what hypotheses were being put forward and whether any clues had been found. Erlendur answered her as best he could, but he had very little concrete information. This seemed to irritate her, as if he were withholding details. She told him as much. He assured her that this was not the case, the investigation was just beginning and they did not have much to go on as yet.

'Not much to go on! A ten-year-old boy is stabbed and you claim you don't have much to go on?'

'My condolences about the boy,' Erlendur said. 'Of course we're doing everything in our power to work out what happened and find the culprit.'

He had been in this position before, standing in the homes of people who were paralysed by grief over something incomprehensible and unbearable. He knew the denial and anger. The incident was so overwhelming that it was impossible to face up to and the mind seized on anything to ease the pain, as if the situation could still somehow be put right.

Erlendur knew this sensation, had felt it since he was ten years old and he and his younger brother Bergur had got lost in a storm. For a while there was a genuine hope that his brother would be found alive after burying himself in the snow as Erlendur had done, and it was this hope that drove people on to search for him, long after his brother's fate had been sealed. The body was never found. When the hope began to wane by the day and then vanished by the week and month and year, it was replaced by a feeling of numbness towards life. Some people managed to keep it at bay. Others, like Erlendur, nurtured it and made the pain their lifelong companion.

He knew that it was crucial to find Elías's half-brother Niran. He hoped that the boy would return home as soon as possible and be able to shed light on what had happened. The more time that elapsed without him turning up, the more Erlendur felt that his disappearance was somehow connected with the boy's death. In the worst-case scenario, something had happened to Niran too, but he did not want to pursue that train of thought.

'Is there anything I can help you with?' Sigrídur asked.

'Have you heard from his brother?' Erlendur asked.

'Niran? No, Sunee's so worried about him.'

'We're doing everything we can,' Erlendur said.

'Do you think something's happened to him as well?' Sigrídur asked in horror.

'I doubt it,' Erlendur said.

'He must come home,' Sigrídur said. 'Sunee must get him back home.'

'He'll be back,' Erlendur said calmly. 'Can you imagine where he might be? He should have got back from school a long time ago. His mother said he's not supposed to be at any extra courses or football practice or anything like that.'

'I don't have the faintest idea where he could be,' Sigrídur said. 'I don't have much contact with him.'

'What about their old friends from when they lived on Snorrabraut?' Erlendur asked. 'Could he be with them?'

'I have no idea.'

'The boys haven't been living here long?'

'No. They moved from Snorrabraut in the spring. The boys had to change schools this autumn. I think it's been terribly difficult for them, first the divorce, then moving to a new part of town and starting at a new school'

'I need to speak to your son,' Erlendur said.

'Me too,' Sigrídur said. 'He's working for a new firm of contractors and I don't know the name.'

'I understand that Sunee wasn't his first foreign wife.'

'I can't understand the boy,' Sigrídur said. 'I've never been able to figure him out. And you're right. Sunee was his second wife from Thailand.'

'Did the brothers get on well?' Erlendur asked cautiously. She could sense his hesitation.

'Get on well? Of course. What do you mean? Of course they got on well.'

She moved a step closer to Erlendur.

'You think he did it, do you?' she whispered. 'You think Niran attacked his own brother? Are you crazy?'

'Not at all,' Erlendur said. 'I—'

'Wouldn't that be an easy solution?' Sigrídur said sarcastically.

'You mustn't misunderstand me,' Erlendur said.

'Misunderstand? I'm not misunderstanding anything,' Sigrídur hissed between clenched teeth. 'You think this is just a case of Thais killing each other, don't you? Wouldn't that be convenient for you and for the rest of us? They're just Thais! None of our business. Is that what you're saying?'

Erlendur hesitated. Maybe it was too early to ask the closest relatives about the boys' relationship. He should not be sowing suspicion with his tentative questions, causing even more anger and bewilderment.

'I'm sorry if I implied anything of the kind,' Erlendur said calmly. 'But we have to look for information, no matter how uncomfortable it might be. It's never crossed my mind that the elder boy had anything to do with this, but I think the sooner we find him, the better for everyone concerned.'

'Niran will come home soon,' Sigrídur said.

'Could he have gone to see his stepfather? Ódinn?'

'I doubt it. They don't get on. My son ...'

Sigrídur hesitated now. Erlendur waited patiently.

'Oh, I don't know,' she sighed.

Sigrídur explained that she had lived in the countryside until recently and had only been to Reykjavík a couple of times a year for short visits. She always visited her son's family and sometimes stayed with them, although the flat on Snorrabraut was small. She had the impression that her son was not particularly happy, and even though Sunee never complained she could tell that all was not well with their marriage. This was around the time Sunee told him she had another son in Thailand who she wanted to send for.

Ódinn had not told his mother about Sunee when he met her. He had had another wife from Thailand before Sunee came on the scene. She had left him after three years. When he sent for her he had never seen her face to face, only in photographs. She was granted a month's visa to stay in Iceland. They got married two weeks after she arrived. She had brought all the necessary papers with her from Thailand in order to make the marriage legal.

'She moved to Denmark later,' Sigrídur said. 'Probably only came here to get an Icelandic passport.'

The next thing Sigrídur knew was that Ódinn had met Sunee and married her. The two women hit it off straight away. Sigrídur had been apprehensive about meeting her new daughter-in-law after what had happened before and was anxious about the new relationship. She tried not to display any prejudice and was relieved when she shook Sunee's hand. She could tell at once that she had character. The first thing she noticed was how Sunee had transformed the squalid flat on Snorrabraut into a beautiful, tidy home with a strong Asian ambience. She had brought along or sent for objects from Thailand to decorate the home: statues of Buddha, pictures and various pretty ornaments.

Although she only visited Reykjavík intermittently at that time, Sigrídur tried to make life in Iceland easier for Sunee. Her daughter-in-law did not understand the language and had great difficulty in picking it up. She spoke little English, and Sigrídur knew anyway that her son had never been the sociable type and had few friends who could help Sunee adapt to a new lifestyle and a completely different society. Gradually Sunee got to know other Thai women who helped her to find her feet, but she had no Icelandic friends with the possible exception of her mother-in-law.