Authors: Arnaldur Indridason

Hypothermia (35 page)

BOOK: Hypothermia

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Darkness was falling when Erlendur drove the Ford across the plain of Hofmannaflöt, past Mount Meyjarsaeti, along the shore of Lake Sandkluftavatn and then took a left turn in the direction of the Lundarreykjadalur valley. He saw a small crane taking up position at the northern end of Uxavatn. Thorbergur’s jeep was parked not far off. Erlendur parked his car on the road and walked over to the diver who was putting on his oxygen tanks. He was preparing to dive with the hook from the crane.

‘I was lucky,’ Thorbergur said after they had exchanged greetings. ‘I actually bumped into the car with my foot.’

‘You think it’s them?’

‘It’s the same car, at any rate. And there are two of them inside. I tried to shine a light on them. It’s not a pretty sight, as you can imagine.’

‘No, of course. Thank you for doing this for me.’

Thorbergur took a large hook from the crane driver and waded out with it until the water was waist deep, then submerged himself.

Erlendur and the crane driver stood on the shore, waiting for Thorbergur to resurface. The crane driver was a tall, thin man who knew only that there was a car in the lake, a car which probably contained two corpses. He tried to extract more information from Erlendur who was non-committal.

‘It’s an old case,’ he said. ‘A tragic old case that we’d long forgotten about, as it happens.’

Then he stood in silence, staring out over the lake, waiting for Thorbergur to re-emerge.

There had been little in the way of goodbyes when he’d left Baldvin. Erlendur had wanted to tell him how disgusted he was by what Baldvin and Karólína had done to María but he supposed there was little point. People who were capable of such an act would not be bothered by admonitions. They were not motivated by conscience or morals. Baldvin didn’t ask what would happen now concerning the investigation and Erlendur himself was in two minds. He didn’t know what to believe. Baldvin could deny the whole thing in court. He hadn’t told anyone except Erlendur what had really happened and Erlendur would have difficulty proving any of it. Baldvin would very probably be struck off if he admitted to having stopped María’s heart and resuscitated her again but that wouldn’t matter to him in the circumstances. It was impossible to say whether he would receive any punishment. The burden of proof lay with the prosecution and Erlendur’s investigation had not really produced any solid evidence. If Baldvin chose to change his statement when threatened with legal proceedings, he could simply deny having encouraged María’s death wish and having temporarily stopped her heart, let alone having murdered her. Erlendur had certain clues about the sequence of staged events that had tipped María towards suicide but the evidence was extremely tenuous. It was not possible to prosecute people for playing tricks, no matter how immoral those tricks might have been.

He saw Thorbergur’s head emerge from the water. The crane driver climbed into his vehicle. Thorbergur gave him a sign to start winding in the cable. Two police cars appeared on the road, driving fast, lights flashing. The winch on the crane started up. A thick steel cable moved slowly, inch by inch, under the winch that was winding it up.

Thorbergur climbed out on shore and took off his diving apparatus. He walked over to the Ford where Erlendur was standing with the passenger door open, listening to the evening news.

‘Well, you must be pleased,’ Thorbergur said.

‘I’m not sure,’ Erlendur replied.

‘Are you going to tell the families yourself?’

‘It may be too late in one case,’ Erlendur said. ‘The boy’s mother died some time ago and his father is on his deathbed. They say he could go any minute.’

‘You’ll have to hurry, then,’ Thorbergur said.

‘Is it yellow?’ Erlendur asked.

‘The car? Yes, it’s yellow.’

The crane roared. The two police cars drew up; four officers got out and walked towards them.

‘Are you chucking that out?’ Thorbergur asked.

He gestured at the defibrillator that Erlendur had put in the passenger seat of the Ford, the one from María and Baldvin’s boathouse. He had shoved it in the car after his conversation with Baldvin.

‘No,’ Erlendur said. ‘It’s connected to another case.’

‘Always plenty to do,’ Thorbergur said.

‘Yes. Unfortunately.’

‘It’s a long time since I’ve seen a piece of junk like that. Does anyone have any use for broken defibrillators?’

‘Yes,’ Erlendur said, absent-mindedly.

The steel cable made the water ripple and before long the car appeared.

‘Hang on – what do you mean, broken?’ Erlendur asked, giving Thorbergur a puzzled look.

‘What?’

‘You said the machine was broken.’

‘Can’t you tell?’

‘No, I don’t have a clue about these things.’

‘It’s completely useless. Look, this plug is kaput. And the wire here, the connection to the electrode is broken. No one can use this.’

‘But . . .’

‘What?’

‘Are you sure?’

‘I was in the fire brigade for years. This is just a piece of scrap.’

‘He said that he . . .’

Erlendur stared at Thorbergur.

‘It’s broken?’ he groaned.

The winch on the crane screeched as the Austin Mini reared slowly out of the water and crawled up the shore. The crane driver stopped the winch. The police officers drew nearer. Water, sand and mud poured from outside and inside the car until it was drained. Erlendur saw the shapes of two human bodies in the front seats. The car was covered in slime and pond weed but the yellow paint was still visible here and there on the sides. The glass in the windows was intact but the boot had opened.

Erlendur tried to open the passenger door but it was stuck fast. He went round to the driver’s side and saw that it was open a crack and there was a dent in it. Peering inside, he made out two skeletons. Gudrún, or Dúna, was sitting at the steering wheel. He could tell by her hair. He assumed that it was Davíd sitting beside her.

‘Why is the door dented?’ he asked Thorbergur.

‘Do you know what state the car was in?’

‘Not necessarily good.’

‘They wouldn’t have had much time,’ Thorbergur said. ‘She must have tried to open the door on her side but could only do so to a very limited extent. There was a rock lying against the car on that side. The passenger doesn’t seem to have been able to open the door on his side. Perhaps it was broken. The handles for winding down the windows probably didn’t work either, or they would have tried to wind them down. It’s the first resort in circumstances like these. The car was probably a bit of a wreck.’

‘So they were trapped inside?’

‘Yes.’

‘While their lives ebbed away.’

‘Hopefully the struggle wouldn’t have lasted long.’

‘How did they get so far out in the lake?’ he asked, gazing over Uxavatn.

‘The only obvious explanation is that it was covered with ice,’ Thorbergur said. ‘That she drove out on the ice. Maybe in a moment of madness. She must have thought that she knew what she was doing. Then the ice cracked. The water was cold. And it’s deep enough.’

‘And so they disappeared,’ Erlendur said.

‘There isn’t much traffic here by the lake at this time of year nowadays, let alone thirty years ago,’ Thorbergur said. ‘There were no witnesses. A hole in the ice like that would soon close up again without anyone noticing that it had ever been there. Although the road must have been passable, since they managed to drive all the way out here.’

‘What’s that?’ Erlendur asked, pointing to a lump between the seats.

‘Is it all right to look at it?’ Thorbergur asked. ‘Don’t forensics need to examine it?’

Erlendur wasn’t listening. He reached over the driver’s seat and grabbed the object that had caught his attention. He prised it carefully out of the car but it still fell apart. Holding the two pieces, he showed them to Thorbergur.

‘What have you got there?’ the diver asked.

‘I think it’s . . . I think it’s a book,’ Erlendur said, inspecting the two halves.

‘A book?’

‘Yes. Probably about the lakes in this area. The boy must have bought it for her.’

Erlendur placed the book in Thorbergur’s hands.

‘I must go to his father before it’s too late,’ he said, checking his watch. ‘I believe we’ve found them; I don’t think there’s any doubt. He must hear what happened. His son was in love, that’s all. He never meant to leave them with all that uncertainty. It was an accident.’

Erlendur walked quickly towards the Ford. He was in a hurry because before he went to the nursing home he had another call to make, in search of the truth.

She was a small child, sitting alone on the shore of the lake, listening to the whispering from the water, She was a young woman, gazing out at the lake, and saw its beauty and the light emanating from it, She was an old woman, kneeling beside the child, and she was a small child again, listening to the whispering and hearing the forgiveness in the words, and the whispering carried from the water and the whispering said: My child
.

It took her a long time to regain consciousness; she was so infinitely tired and lethargic that she could hardly open her eyes
.

‘Bald
. . .
vin,’ she sighed, ‘It was an accident, What happened when Daddy died
. . .
it was an accident.
’

She couldn’t see Baldvin but sensed his presence
.

She was no longer cold and it was as if a heavy burden had been lifted from her, She knew what she had to do, She would tell, Everything, Everything that had happened at the lake, She would tell anyone who would listen what had happened
.

She was about to call Baldvin when she discovered that she couldn’t breathe any more. Something was tightening on her throat.

She opened her eyes and looked for Baldvin but couldn’t see him
.

She clutched weakly at her throat.

‘This isn’t right,’ she whispered.

‘This isn’t right . . . ’

36

Erlendur drove down the cul-de-sac to Baldvin’s house in Grafarvogur. He parked by the drive to the garage and stepped out. He was in a hurry. He wasn’t sure if he was doing the right thing; he would have preferred to have gone straight to the old man but on the other hand he was tormented by questions about the defibrillator that Baldvin alone could answer.

He pressed the doorbell and waited. As he rang the bell again, he noticed Karólína’s car parked in the road a little way from the house. When he had rung a third time he heard a sound from inside before the door opened and Baldvin appeared.

‘You again?’ he said.

‘Can I come in?’ Erlendur asked.

‘Haven’t we been over this?’ Baldvin asked.

‘Is Karólína with you?’ Erlendur said.

Baldvin’s gaze travelled past him to her car. He nodded and let Erlendur in. Closing the door behind him, he invited Erlendur into the sitting room. Karólína emerged from the bedroom, tidying her hair.

‘We saw no point in hiding any longer,’ Baldvin said. ‘I’ve told you what happened. Karólína’s going to move in with me next week.’

‘You needn’t tell him anything,’ Karólína said. ‘It’s none of his business.’

‘Quite right,’ Erlendur said, smiling. He was in a hurry to get to the hospital but made an effort to appear relaxed. ‘But one would have thought you’d have wanted to be careful,’ he said, ‘not attract too much attention.’

‘We have nothing to hide,’ Karólína said.

‘Are you sure?’ Erlendur asked.

‘What do you mean?’ Baldvin asked. ‘I’ve told you the whole thing. I left María alive at the holiday cottage.’

‘I know what you told me.’

‘What are you doing here, then?’

‘You lied about the whole thing,’ Erlendur said, ‘and I wondered if I could persuade you both to tell me the truth this time. It would make a refreshing change.’

‘I didn’t lie about anything,’ Baldvin said.

‘Why do you think he’s lying?’ Karólína asked. ‘That
we
’re lying?’

‘Because you’re both liars,’ Erlendur said. ‘You lied to María. You plotted behind her back. Put on a whole play for her. Even though Baldvin claims he backed down at the last minute, it’s still a crime. You’ve both lied to me from the beginning.’

‘That’s bullshit,’ Baldvin said.

‘How do you intend to prove it?’ Karólína asked.

Erlendur smiled thinly and looked at his watch.

‘I can’t,’ he said.

‘Then what do you want?’

BOOK: Hypothermia

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