Yrsa Sigurdardottir - Someone to Watch Over Me

Thóra dug her mobile phone out from her overflowing handbag and called directory enquiries. She decided to utilize the time that she had before meeting with her client to speak to Jakob’s former defender, the lawyer also appointed by the Supreme Court as Jakob’s supervisor. She had tried several times to reach Ari Gunnarsson since starting her investigation, to no avail, and he hadn’t responded to her messages. But Thóra had no other choice but to keep on trying, since Ari’s insight into the case was sure to aid her investigation. It was also more appropriate to let him know of her intentions formally, rather than simply through messages left on his answering machine. His role as supervisor was to ensure that the individual deemed not criminally liable remained in residence at the designated institution for no longer than necessary, although this particular issue would have no influence on the reopening of the case.

Thóra had immediately recognized Ari’s name in the dossier. His details were often given to people who’d been arrested when they asked for a lawyer. He was a decent guy, as far as she could tell; not exactly a genius, but no idiot either. She recalled a rumour which had circulated in the legal world that he had come dangerously close to being disbarred due to being bankrupt for many years, but had somehow escaped this punishment. The man appeared not to have particularly good references, which made Thóra curious about who had selected him to supervise Jakob and why. Had Jakob himself been made to point at a name on a police list, or had his mother done so? She supposed that if you didn’t know any lawyers, that was no worse a way than any other to choose one.

Ari answered on the second ring, apparently in the middle of lunch. He mumbled to her to definitely drop by – he had an hour free, and it would give him an excuse to put aside the boring job he was working on. He apologized for not having responded to her messages; he simply hadn’t got round to it. After swallowing his food in a dramatic fashion, he stopped mumbling and gave her the address of his law office more intelligibly. As she’d expected, it was close by; few lawyers set up shop in the suburbs. When she got there, she discovered that his firm shared a corridor with a few other unassuming offices, including several small wholesalers and a dentist. The latter seemed not to be taking a lunch break, judging by the whine of the drill that came from behind his closed door as Thóra walked by.

Ari’s office was a mess. He was obviously self-employed, because there was only one desk set up in the spacious room. Bookshelves lined the walls and were loaded with rubbish that seemed to have been dumped there at random. A sofa that had seen better days stood under the window, but she could hardly see it for the papers, files and books that were scattered all over it. Even the floor was being used as a filing cabinet and Thóra had the feeling that it wouldn’t take long for a narrow path to form from the door to the table and the worn-looking visitors’ chair. After Ari showed her in, she took a seat. He was on the phone when she arrived and appeared to be negotiating a car purchase, with Ari wanting more for the vehicle than the buyer was willing to pay. A half-eaten sandwich in a rustling plastic wrapper moved back and forth when Ari wanted to place particular emphasis on his words. A piece of lettuce flew out from between the slices of bread and landed on the computer screen in front of him. It slid down lazily as Ari wiped away the mayonnaise streak that it left behind. Finally he hung up, without having concluded the car deal, and smiled at Thóra.

‘Sorry, I didn’t realize that you were so close by.’ Thóra started muttering politely that that was all right, but she didn’t get to finish her sentence before Ari interrupted her. ‘But enough about that. What can I do for you? You said that you’re working on reopening Jakob’s case. How come?’ He took a big bite of the flimsy white-bread sandwich, which was now falling apart after its vigorous shaking.

Thóra told him the entire story of her new assignment before turning to the business at hand: ‘… and since you were Jakob’s lawyer, I wondered if you had any useful information, or if you could remember anything about the case that struck you as odd or unusual.’

Ari laughed curtly. He was on the chubby side and it made his cheeks wobble. ‘The oddest thing about that case was the client. He was completely ga-ga. I won’t be defending any more retards, or whatever you’re meant to call them now. It was like dealing with an ugly, overgrown child. And as if it wasn’t bad enough defending him, they appointed me to be his supervisor.’

Thóra tried not to be too offended by what he said, hoping it was just a reflection of his insecurity. She doubted many clients found their way to this den of chaos. ‘Of course the young man is developmentally disabled, so I can completely understand that communication between you must have been difficult. But I was thinking of something related to the investigation or to the case itself. I’ll make my own judgements on him as a person.’

‘Such sensitivity!’ That nasty laugh again, but thankfully it ended abruptly. ‘You know, I’m actually relieved they didn’t consult me about the reopening of his case. I should be insulted or pissed off, but I’m not at all, not in the least. It was one of the worst cases I’ve ever taken on, and I’ve seen a lot in my time. But it all seemed pretty clear-cut to me: those who died were better off dead, to call a spade a spade, and Jakob is best kept institutionalized for life. If you really believe he’s innocent, all I have to say is: “Good luck with that”.’

Thóra didn’t know quite how she should respond to this extraordinary statement. It was probably best to let it go unremarked; otherwise there was a risk that this would end in an argument. She now seriously doubted that this man had handled Jakob’s interests with anything resembling professional integrity. ‘So you saw nothing in the case that might suggest someone else had a hand in what happened? I’m aware that Jakob’s testimony was contradictory, to the point where at times his guilt didn’t seem to be in question, but as you said yourself, he behaves like a child, and they’ve never been considered reliable witnesses. If full consideration wasn’t taken of his disability, it’s equally likely that something was accidentally missed that might point the finger at someone other than him.’ As she spoke, Thóra marvelled to herself at Jakob’s bad luck in getting Ari as his lawyer. The man was probably great at wrangling with the judicial system on behalf of petty criminals, but he was the polar opposite of what was needed for this case.

‘No, I don’t think so.’

Thóra wasn’t convinced. ‘So there was nothing that came to light regarding the running of the home, or anything else suggesting that someone other than Jakob had reason to want to destroy it?’

‘No, nothing.’

‘What about the young paralysed woman who was pregnant, Lísa Finnbjörnsdóttir? Do you think it stretches credibility to say that the father would have been anxious to conceal the pregnancy?’

‘What?’ Ari seemed genuinely surprised. His lower jaw slackened and his half-open mouth formed a black hole in his otherwise pale face. ‘Where did you get that idea?’

‘It’s in black and white in the girl’s autopsy report. She was around four months pregnant when she died. The father is unknown, but it’s clear that conception took place at the centre. She didn’t get out much, so I understand.’ The black hole opened even wider and Thóra caught a glimpse of the pink tip of the man’s tongue.

‘I wasn’t remotely aware of this, and nor was anyone else as far I know. It was never mentioned in the hearings, or the interrogations, or anywhere else for that matter.’