Outrage (12 page)

Elinborg did not marry again; she and Teddi remained partners. Valthor was born, followed by Aron and finally Theodora, all of whom worshipped Birkir, especially Valthor, who made him his role model from the first time he drew breath. When Birkir left home, Valthor blamed his mother for what happened, which made their relationship even more difficult.

Elinborg looked at the alarm clock. 03.08.

In four short hours she would have to get up, and she knew that her lack of sleep would make tomorrow a disaster.

Beside her Teddi slept peacefully. She envied him the calm disposition that had always been characteristic of him. She considered getting up and going into the kitchen to look at some recipes but found the effort too much, and started yet again to count down from 10,000.

9,999. 9,998. 9,997. 9,996 …

The Firm resembled the first gym that Elinborg had visited, but was considerably larger and in a better location. She arrived there, barely able to keep her eyes open after her sleepless night, on the Saturday morning one week after Runolfur’s murder. People were pouring in: running, weightlifting, working up a sweat. Some brought their children, as The Firm offered a creche, which was crammed. Elinborg was a little taken aback by the sight - it seemed to be no more than a dumping ground in which a crowd of kids were watching cartoons on a gigantic flatscreen.

She sometimes worried about relationships between parents and their children: young children would spend all week in day care from early morning until five or so, and at the weekend some faced yet more hours in the creche, while their parents were perspiring on the treadmill. On a working day the children would probably go to bed at around nine p.m., having spent a total of two hours with their parents, most of which consisted of feeding them and getting them to bed. When their children were small Elinborg and Teddi had reduced their working hours in order to take better care of their family. They hadn’t seen it as a sacrifice, but both a necessity and a pleasure.

Elinborg was shown in to meet the manager, who was busy taking delivery of two new flatscreens to be installed in the main gym. There was clearly a problem with the consignment since he was refusing delivery of one of the screens, and was on the phone venting his displeasure. Once he had hung up, he turned to Elinborg with a snarl and asked her what was the matter.

‘Matter?’ she asked. ‘There’s nothing the matter.’

‘Oh,’ replied the manager. ‘Then what do you want?’

‘I want to ask you about a man who used to come here but stopped about two years ago. I’m from the police. You’ve probably heard about him on the news.’

‘About who?’

‘He lived in Thingholt.’

‘The guy who was killed?’ asked the manager.

Elinborg nodded. ‘Do you remember him?’

‘I remember him well. We didn’t have so many clients back then and I used to know almost all of them. Now it’s completely crazy. What about him? What’s he got to do with us?’

A teenage girl appeared in the office doorway. ‘One of the kids has thrown up everywhere,’ she told the manager.

‘So?’

‘We can’t find the parents.’

The manager gave Elinborg an apologetic smile. ‘Talk to Silla,’ he said to the girl. ‘She’ll sort it out.’

‘Yeah, but I can’t find her.’

‘You can see I’m in a meeting here,’ he said. ‘Go and find Silla, dear.’

‘The kid’s sick as a dog,’ whined the girl. ‘This is just too much,’ she grumbled as she left.

‘I take it you’re talking about Runolfur?’ said the manager, who was wearing a blue tracksuit emblazoned with the logo of a fashionable and expensive sportswear label.

‘Did you know him?’

‘Only as a client. He worked out here all the time, pretty much from when we opened four years ago. He was one of our first members. Then he stopped coming here. He was a good guy. Kept himself fit.’

‘Do you know why he left?’

‘No idea. I never saw him again. Then I saw the report on the news - I could hardly believe it. Why are you asking us about him? Have we got something to do with his death?

‘No, not so far as I know. It’s a routine enquiry. We know this was his gym.’

‘Yes, I see.’

‘Did anyone else stop coming here around the same time as him? Anyone who used to train here?’

The manager gave the matter some thought.

‘I don’t really remember …’

‘A woman, maybe?’

‘No, I don’t think so.’

‘Do you remember whether he was well liked, as a client?’

‘Oh, yes, he was. Very well liked. Actually …’

‘Yes?’

‘You asked about women.’

‘Yes.’

‘There was one girl who worked for me, now you mention it,’ said the manager. ‘I’m not sure whether they both left at exactly the same time but it was certainly about then. Frida was her name. I don’t remember the surname. Nice girl. A personal trainer. I can dig out the full name for you, if you like. They used to hang out together.’

‘Were they a couple?’

‘No, I don’t think it went that far. But they got along well, and I think they may have gone out for drinks together, that kind of thing.’

The young woman stepped hesitantly into the flat that Runolfur had rented in Thingholt, and looked apprehensively around her. Elinborg was immediately behind her. Both Unnur’s parents were there, as was the psychiatrist who had been treating her. Elinborg had been forced to take a firm line with Unnur to persuade her to agree to look at the flat. Her mother had finally sided with Elinborg and had urged her daughter to do what she could to help the police.

Nothing had been altered since Runolfur’s body had been removed. The crime scene had been left untouched, and Unnur hesitated when she saw the blackened dried blood on the floor.

‘I don’t want to go in,’ she begged.

‘I know, Unnur,’ replied Elinborg reassuringly. ‘It will only take a minute, and then you can go home.’

Unnur stepped cautiously through the hall and into the living room, where she averted her gaze from the bloodstains. She looked at the superhero posters, the sofa, the coffee table and TV. She glanced up at the ceiling. It was late evening. ‘I don’t think I’ve ever been here,’ she murmured to herself. She inched her way from the living room into the kitchen, with Elinborg at her heels. They had already examined Runolfur’s car, which had been impounded by the police. It rang no bells for Unnur.

It was also possible that she did not want to remember.

They reached the bedroom doorway, and Unnur looked down at the double bed - the quilt lay on the floor and at the head were two pillows. As in the living room, the floor was parquet. The bed was flanked by small bedside tables. Elinborg presumed that this was for symmetry, as Runolfur would not need two just for himself. On each was a small reading lamp, testament to the owner’s good taste, like everything else in the flat; Elinborg had noticed on her first visit that Runolfur’s home had a certain style and charm. On either side of the bed was a small rug. Clothes hung in the wardrobe, while his shirts were neatly folded and his underwear and socks arranged in drawers in an orderly fashion. Runolfur’s home revealed that he had his life completely under control and took pleasure in nice things.

‘I’ve never been here,’ said Unnur. Elinborg sensed her relief. Unnur stood motionless in the bedroom doorway, as if she did not dare enter.

‘Are you sure?’ she asked.

‘Nothing’s familiar,’ said Unnur. ‘I don’t remember this place at all.’

‘We’ve got plenty of time.’

‘No, I don’t remember ever being here. Not here, nor anywhere else in this flat. Can we go now? I can’t help you. I’m sorry. I feel uncomfortable in this place. Can we leave?’

Unnur’s mother gave Elinborg a pleading look.

‘Of course,’ said Elinborg. ‘Thank you for being willing to do this.’

‘Was she in here?’ Unnur took one step into the bedroom.

‘We think he was with a woman the night he was killed,’ said Elinborg. ‘He had sex shortly before the attack.’

‘Poor girl,’ said Unnur. ‘I suppose he brought her here against her will?’

‘That’s a possibility.’

‘But if he drugged her, how could she have killed him?’

‘We don’t know. We haven’t worked out what happened yet.’

‘Can I go home now?’

‘Of course. Whenever you want. Thank you for doing this, I know it wasn’t easy.’

Elinborg escorted Unnur and her parents out and saw them off from outside the house, watching the family disappear down the road. They were a sad little company, all three of them victims of unspeakable violence and depravity. Their lives had been devastated, and there was nothing they could do about it except weep in silence.

Elinborg wrapped her coat tightly around her as she returned to the car, wondering if she had another restless, wakeful night in store.

12

Frida bore a strong resemblance to Loa. She was about the same age, a little stockier, dark-haired, with beautiful brown eyes behind dainty glasses. She was not especially surprised to be visited by the police. She said that she had already been thinking of contacting them, having read about the drug found at the murder scene. She was frank and energetic, and ready to tell Elinborg everything she knew.

‘It’s awful, reading about it in the papers,’ she said. ‘I didn’t know what to do. It was such a shock. Just think, I once went home with that man. He could have drugged me.’

‘Did you go to his place?’ asked Elinborg.

‘No, he came here. It was only the once, but that was more than enough.’

‘What happened?’

‘It’s just so embarrassing,’ said Frida. ‘I hardly know how to explain it. I got to know him quite well, but we weren’t dating or anything. And it’s not something I generally do. Not at all. I … but there was something about him.’

‘Do what?’ asked Elinborg.

‘Sleep with them,’ said Frida, with an awkward smile. ‘Not unless I’m really sure.’

‘Sure that what?’

‘That they’re all right.’

Elinborg nodded as if to say that she understood, but she was uncertain. She looked around at the flat. Frida said she lived alone, with two cats, which were twining themselves around Elinborg’s legs. They were determined to show her who was boss. One took a massive leap into her lap. The flat was on the second floor of a block in one of Reykjavik’s older districts. From the windows the Blafjoll mountains could be glimpsed between two more blocks of flats.

‘No, I mean, I’ve used the personal ads, and I go clubbing, and all that,’ explained Frida with some embarrassment. ‘You do what you can, but the market … those guys are nothing to write home about.’

‘The
market
?’

‘Yes.’

‘Was it because of Runolfur that you left your job at the gym?’ asked Elinborg.

‘I suppose so. It was one of the reasons. I didn’t want to risk running into him. Then I heard he’d left and gone to another gym, and I never saw him again, until it was on the news.’

‘So he wasn’t
all right
, as you put it?’ asked Elinborg, shoving at the cat, which jumped down to the floor with a squeal and vanished into the kitchen. The other cat then followed its example and jumped into Elinborg’s lap. She did not particularly like cats. They sensed it, though, and would not leave her alone, as if they were trying to win her over. That would not happen any time soon.

‘I should never have invited him here,’ said Frida. ‘He wanted to take me back to his place but I wouldn’t go. It annoyed him, although he tried to conceal it.’

‘Was he used to getting his own way, do you think? Was that what it was?’

‘I don’t know. Do you know anything about him?’

‘Not a lot,’ replied Elinborg. ‘Did he talk about himself at all?’

‘Very little.’

‘We know he was from a small village.’

‘He never mentioned it. I assumed he was from Reykjavik.’

‘Did he talk about any friends, or family?’

‘No. I didn’t really know him that well. We used to chat about the gym, and films, that sort of thing. He never said anything to me about his personal life. I know he had a friend called Edvard, but I never met him.’

‘What do you make of Runolfur, based on your short acquaintance?’

‘He was a narcissist,’ said Frida, pushing her glasses up. ‘I’m sure he was. He worshipped himself. Like down at The Firm - he was in good shape, and not shy about showing off. He would strut around the place, trying to get the women to notice him, always putting on a show.’

‘So he …’

‘And there was definitely something weird about him,’ Frida went on.

‘Weird?’

‘You know … with women.’

‘We don’t know whether he used the date-rape drug, although it was found at his home,’ said Elinborg. She did not mention that Runolfur had also swallowed Rohypnol himself.

‘No, that’s not what I mean,’ said Frida. ‘I read about the drug you found - I wasn’t surprised.’

‘Really?’

‘He was really strange, the one time we … you know …’

‘I don’t quite follow.’

‘No. It’s not easy to talk about it,’ sighed Frida.

‘But you knew him
quite
well, then?’ asked Elinborg, trying to work out where the conversation was leading.

‘No, not really,’ said Frida. ‘Not well at all. These guys who come into the gym, they think they’re God’s gift, but Runolfur was always very polite to me. We would sometimes talk, and he asked me once if I’d like to go out to dinner. I said yes. He was very friendly, that wasn’t the problem. He could chat, and be funny and all that, but I still got the feeling that he was unhappy.’

‘Did he ever talk about it? Express how he felt?’

‘No, not at all. Not to me. When it came to the point, you see, he came over all shy and awkward. And after that he was just creepy.’

‘Really?’

‘Yeah, he wanted me to …’

‘What?’

‘Um, I don’t know.’

‘What did he want?’

‘He wanted me to play dead.’

‘Dead?’ echoed Elinborg.

Frida looked at her. ‘Dead,’ she repeated. ‘I wasn’t to move, if you see what I mean. I was supposed to lie still and hardly breathe. Then he started slapping me and shouting at me. I didn’t understand why. The words he used! It was as if he was in a world of his own.’ Frida shuddered at the memory. ‘What a pervert!’ she added.