Why Did You Lie? (17 page)

‘If he fell into the sea a short time ago, he may still be alive.’ Helgi keeps his voice level.

‘Nobody could survive that drop. Are you fucking stupid? I know he didn’t fall off yesterday evening. He woke me last night because he was dying of cold. The wind was blowing straight in through the bloody gap in the railing and he couldn’t sleep. We swapped places and I saw him get into his sleeping bag. He was alive then. Fuck.’ Ívar rams his hat back on his head. ‘Fucking, fucking hell.’

Helgi notices that Heida isn’t saying anything. Her eyes are fixed on Tóti’s sleeping bag and she bends down to it as Ívar turns to face out to sea. Opening the bag, she peers inside and starts back. Then she removes one of her gloves, runs her bare hand over the lining and examines her fingertips, before rising to her feet, her face white.

‘I’m going down. There’s nothing we can do here.’ She avoids looking at Ívar as she begins to climb over the rail and Helgi notices that, instead of putting her glove back on, she shoves it in her pocket.

She lets go of the whitewashed handrail and clambers down the crag that almost touches the lighthouse at this point. Left behind on the rail are two red fingerprints.

Chapter 13

24 January 2014

From her face it was clear that Vala had overdone it. Nói thought she should have followed his example and taken a three-day weekend. She had dark shadows under her eyes as if she’d just been for a swim in heavy mascara, and her drooping lids and slurring voice made her seem a little drunk. ‘I just can’t think about it now. Tomorrow.’

Nói put his tablet back on the table. The screen showed a freeze frame from the security camera at the holiday chalet. He knew Vala well enough not to bother even trying to persuade her to come over to the desktop. With the tablet he could at least follow her around and force her to look. But the moment she’d walked in he’d known it was a bad idea to share his worries with her. It would have been wiser to wait, give her a chance to relax, have some supper, but he hadn’t been able to stop himself. He had been sitting alone brooding far too long for that. And now the damage was done.

‘Come on – it’s weird. You’ve got to admit it.’

‘Maybe.’ Vala heaved a sigh. ‘Maybe not. Please don’t start banging on about pizza and scissors again – I’m too shattered to care.’ She unzipped the jacket she hadn’t taken off yet before collapsing onto a chair in the kitchen. ‘Anyway, I can’t see what difference it makes. You’re just collecting anything that fits in with some crackpot theory you’re obsessed with. Even if the camera footage shows people behaving oddly, it doesn’t tell us anything. Except perhaps that you shouldn’t be videoing your guests. I’m not sure we’d come out of it looking too good if people found out. Is it even legal?’ She took off her jacket, hung it over the back of the chair and rubbed her shoulders. ‘And take that iPad away. I’m not looking at it any more. I feel like a peeping Tom.’

Nói snatched back the tablet. ‘It’s very strange. And there’s nothing illegal about the security camera. They knew about it – it was in the notes we left them, and it’s not like it records continuously. The system switches off when all movement ceases for any length of time, and it only films when there’s no one in the chalet.’

‘But you’ve got videos of them.’ Vala exhaled wearily.

‘Yes, but out on the decking, and only when they’re arriving. They obviously read our instructions because the first thing he does when they come in is switch off the system. And he switches it on when they go out or to bed.’ Nói cast around desperately for some way to convince her, while leaving out the stuff that would annoy her. He knew his worries stemmed from nothing more than a hunch that something was wrong. It had been triggered by a few minor details: the belongings the Americans had left behind, the things they
hadn’t
left behind, like the keys, and now this camera footage. Taken separately, unfortunately none of these details was sufficiently unusual to bother Vala, and she didn’t seem inclined to put them all together like him. It was easier said than done to convince other people of one’s gut instinct, especially when there was no concrete evidence of anything amiss, yet this had no effect on his own conviction. Forget logic: there was something wrong. ‘Well, I find the whole thing extremely odd, though you refuse to admit it.’

Nói had gone through all the footage from the chalet from the period when the foreigners were using it. There were quite a few recordings, but each one was fairly short. The first showed the Americans’ arrival; them coming inside and looking around, apparently pleased with what they saw. The couple were around the same age as him and Vala, the man rather overweight, the woman slim. Neither was particularly memorable to look at. Both wore brand-new Icelandic fleeces under thick jackets, jeans and walking boots. With them they had two sports bags and several plastic bags of shopping.

Then the man switched off the system and the picture vanished.

After this came several clips in which they were returning from hikes or pottering about on the decking. Nothing remarkable and nothing that suggested there was anything wrong. Nói had deleted the footage he didn’t want Vala to see, in which the woman appeared stark naked while fetching a drink of water in the night. It was an unavoidable flaw in the system and there was no need to draw Vala’s attention to the fact. This was rather unfortunate since the clip showed the woman peering warily out of the kitchen window as if checking to see if there was somebody outside. She did the same at the large windows facing onto the decking. But it would be pointless to show this to Vala; she would be far too worked up about the infringement of the couple’s privacy to wonder why the woman should think there was somebody or something outside.

The two clips he chose to show her were different. One was also recorded at night but this time it showed the man, clad in nothing but ill-fitting checked pyjama bottoms. Vala wanted to avert her eyes from the sight of his large paunch but Nói insisted she watch as the man crept over to the windows just like his wife had the night before – a fact Nói could not, unfortunately, mention. The man tiptoed to the windows, then went to check that the door was definitely locked. After he had gone back into the bedroom the view through the windows showed headlights being switched on somewhere beyond the decking. The lights swung away and disappeared. Vala had simply yawned and refused to admit that this was of any interest, though Nói noticed her fingers drumming nervously after the footage had ended.

The other clip showed the guests returning from a walk and forgetting to turn off the system when they came in. The man fetched some steaks from the fridge, went back out onto the decking and disappeared round the corner in the direction of the barbecue. Then he came back wearing an odd expression, the meat still in his hands. He put it down on the table and appeared to retch. The couple spoke together and although the recording had no sound, it was obvious that they were not discussing the Icelandic scenery or the likelihood of seeing the Northern Lights that night. Then the woman rushed out, disappeared like him round the corner in the direction of the barbecue and reappeared almost immediately, her hand over her mouth.

Then there was confusion. The Americans raced around gathering up their belongings before abandoning the chalet. There were no more recordings until the most recent.

‘Please at least admit that the business with the barbecue isn’t normal.’ Nói tried to get a grip on himself; he hadn’t meant his voice to wobble like that.

‘OK. If you’ll promise to stop going on about it.’ Vala rubbed her forehead as if she had a headache. Looking at his face, she saw he wasn’t capable of agreeing to this deal. She sighed. ‘Nói. It must have been when they discovered the barbecue wasn’t working. I’ll admit their reactions were a bit excessive but these people clearly aren’t used to things not going their way.’

‘No.’ Nói shook his head vehemently. ‘The problem with the barbecue was the day before; I can tell from his e-mail and the date of the recording. He must have been able to get it working after I sent him the instructions.’

‘Perhaps it broke down again or the repair didn’t work. How should I know? Please stop going on about it.’

‘Vala, I’ve e-mailed them repeatedly and they haven’t answered. Something’s happened.’

‘Like what? Come on. They’re having fun in Paris or somewhere and don’t have time to reply to some weirdo in Iceland who keeps bombarding them with messages.’

‘I rang and checked with the airlines to see if they’d left the country. Pity I don’t know where they were going, only the date.’

‘And?’

‘And nothing. They wouldn’t tell me. Apparently passenger lists are confidential. Then there’s the business of the outside lights. Who do you think broke them? Even if the Americans were a bit odd I can’t believe they’d have done that.’

‘No, I’m sure they didn’t. But we do have vandals in this country. It doesn’t necessarily mean anything if they target you. For Christ’s sake.’ Vala rolled her eyes. ‘Nói. I’m dying of hunger. If I don’t eat something soon I’ll pass out. Gudda was sick and I had to take her spinning class on top of everything else.’ She glanced around. ‘I was hoping you’d have magicked up something to eat.’

‘I would have done if I’d realised how late it was. I forgot the time while I was going through the recordings from the chalet. But I’ll throw something together. Why don’t you have a rest while I’m doing that?’

Vala sighed and let her head fall back. When she spoke again her voice sounded oddly constricted. ‘Did you think the scissors would feature in one of the videos? Or the pizza?’ She sat up again, regarding him with half-closed eyes.

‘No, I didn’t.’ Nói couldn’t keep the defensiveness out of his voice. It was partly triggered by Vala’s indifference but also by the fact that he had failed to sort out any supper. ‘I’ve decided to call the police and I wanted to find a video clip that would persuade them to look into the case.’

‘Case? What case? There is no case.’ Vala groaned again, loudly. ‘The two of them are just off somewhere having a good time and can’t be bothered to talk to you. I bet you’ve sent them a million messages about the keys, but they’ve probably lost them and don’t want to admit it. They must think you’re crazy.’

He had
not
sent them a million messages. OK, he’d sent a fair few, but he’d rather not go into that. Some people might indeed find his e-mails odd, particularly the most recent one. ‘No one’s answering the mobile number they gave us. And then there are the videos; it’s as though they thought someone was prowling around outside the chalet. I’m beginning to wonder if they got into some kind of dispute with whoever it was.’

‘Oh, please, stop it.’ Vala shook her head. ‘Just because you invent some story it doesn’t mean it’s true.’ She got up and jerked open the fridge. On the half-empty shelves were pots of jam, tomato ketchup and other items that tended to accumulate until the family could bear it no more, threw out the lot and began collecting a new set. ‘We didn’t leave their fridge this empty. Perhaps they’re embarrassed about that as well. I’d have been mortified if we’d left behind nothing but an apple and come home to find our own fridge full of food. I just hope it all goes off while they’re in Europe.’ She rummaged in the fridge drawers. ‘Though I doubt there’s any chance of that. Doesn’t American food keep forever? They’re ashamed, Nói. That’s all it is. Remember what a disgusting state the stairs were in?’

‘Yes, all right. But at least they left
some
food behind.’ Nói wasn’t prepared to concede that the explanation might lie with the empty fridge. Or the filthy staircase.

Vala turned, folding her arms across her chest. ‘Are you kidding? Open cartons and ancient pots of
skyr
and butter covered in crumbs? They couldn’t be bothered to throw this stuff away, that’s the only reason it’s there.’ She kicked the fridge door shut. ‘Just accept it. There’s nothing going on.’

No sooner had she finished speaking than the family’s new automatic Roomba vacuum cleaner popped out of its charger and began its robotic dance across the floor. Practical as he was, Nói hadn’t managed to set the timer since they’d taken it out of its box and it started up whenever it felt like it. They stared, transfixed by the behaviour of the vacuum, which seemed unable to make up its mind where to go. When it suddenly made a beeline for Vala, Nói leapt over to switch it off before his wife could kick the expensive gadget. He put it back in its charger. ‘Go and have a lie-down. I’ll nip out to the shop.’

On the way down the street he saw his neighbour’s car approaching and decided to ask him a few questions. It couldn’t hurt and – who knows? – he might even have noticed something. The man’s expression suggested that the last thing he was in the mood for on his way home from work was a leisurely chat. Their eyes met awkwardly while their windows were rolling down.

‘Hi, Steini. I just wanted to ask if you’d happened to notice the Americans who were staying in our house while we were away?’

‘Notice them?’ The man’s gaze flicked automatically to his own house. He looked as tired as Vala. ‘As in did I see them coming and going, or did I notice activity in the house? Lights going on and off, that sort of thing?’

‘Oh, just if you’d seen them.’

‘Yes, I did. Once or twice. I expect they went out early and came back late. As tourists do.’

‘Were they all right? Did it look as if anything had gone wrong?’ It was a stupid question but Nói assumed the man wouldn’t want to prolong the conversation by demanding an explanation.

‘Er, I don’t know what to say. They seemed OK. They weren’t in wheelchairs or on crutches, at any rate.’

Nói smiled weakly. Seeing the man put his car in gear, he hurriedly slipped in another question. ‘Do you happen to remember when you last saw them?’

The man looked through his windscreen at his house and drive. ‘Not exactly. Maybe a week, ten days ago?’ He waved dismissively, rolled up his window and pulled into his drive.

Supper was an uninspiring affair but it hit the spot. They’d had enough of dining out on their trip, so bread, tinned soup, cheese and liver sausage made a nice change. The lettering on the milk carton and the familiar plain packaging of the butter and cheese made them feel that they were truly home at last. It didn’t hurt either that the meal required only minimal washing-up, though Tumi still objected to being landed with the chore. His parents left the kitchen, ignoring their son’s protests about the injustice of the world, and went to watch the evening news.