Yrsa Sigurdardottir - Someone to Watch Over Me

She’d forgotten about the smell of smoke. As soon as she stepped inside her nostrils stung. The darkness was total, since all the windows and doors were boarded up so the light from outside was negligible. There was a torch in Matthew’s jacket pocket but he’d probably not had enough time to turn it on. She decided to follow the wall, for fear of stumbling over the rubbish that was probably still floating around on the floor. The concrete was icy and felt gritty with dirt, but Thóra didn’t let that dissuade her, and she set off in the direction of the noise coming from deeper inside the building. When she’d gone far enough to meet a connecting wall she heard the situation change: there was a thud and a huge splash. One or both of them had crashed to the floor. She hoped it wasn’t Matthew and hurried in the direction of the noise. It was impossible to say who was grunting louder, Matthew or Margeir, but she was glad she couldn’t hear any screaming or cries of pain. Suddenly there was complete silence except for a panting sound. She sped up but slowed down again when she heard the men apparently coming back in her direction. They were moving much more slowly than when they’d rushed into the dark hole, then to Thóra’s great relief she heard Matthew order the man to walk unless he wanted to be floated out. She sighed deeply and only then realized she’d been holding her breath the whole time. She called to Matthew, who told her to hurry outside. She picked her way slowly back along the same route, immensely grateful to escape the darkness and the suffocating smell of smoke. She held the board open to let in a bit of light.

Matthew appeared, dragging Margeir behind him, and it took their combined effort to get the young man out of the house. He put up a fierce resistance and when Thóra felt her index fingernail break to the quick she snapped: ‘What’s wrong with you?’ Then she added, more calmly: ‘You’ve got to come out. Were you planning on moving in there, maybe?’ At that moment Matthew tugged at Margeir with all his might, causing him to fly out and land on his back in the snow between them. He was filthy and panting and held his upper arm as if he’d been injured. After catching his breath for a moment, Matthew bent down to the man and gripped his shoulder. ‘Stand up. You’ll die if you lie there much longer. We’ll go to the car and wait there for the police.’

‘I think I’d rather die, but thanks anyway.’ The man didn’t look at them, just lay there with his eyes closed.

‘Stop being an idiot. Stand up.’

Thóra followed Matthew’s lead and bent down to help him lift the man. ‘Is your name Margeir?’

The man’s eyes opened wide and he looked at her inquisitively. ‘Did you send me those text messages?’

She shook her head. ‘No. I’ve been trying to call you, that’s all.’ Jósteinn’s texting thumb had obviously been busy.

‘Who are you, then?’ Margeir’s breathing had grown more regular and he let go of his arm and stood up. ‘I haven’t done anything to you.’ He stared at Matthew. ‘Aren’t you the guy who chased me last night?’

‘I guess I am; the back of your head looks familiar.’ Matthew helped him to his feet, gripping him tightly in case he decided to run away. ‘What were you doing in those people’s garden? Do you know someone who lived there?’

Margeir shook his head and Thóra took the opportunity to ask: ‘Did you set this place on fire, Margeir? We know exactly what went on here, and what sort of service you and Friðleifur were selling.’

‘No, I didn’t.’ Margeir brushed the snow off himself with his uninjured arm; the other hung limply at his side. ‘But I know who did.’

‘You don’t say.’ Thóra assumed that he either meant Jakob or that he was going to falsely accuse someone else – probably one of the fire’s victims.

‘I’m not making it up, I know who started the fire.’

‘That’s just as well, since I’m Jakob’s lawyer – you remember him, don’t you? He’s being held in a Psychiatric Secure Unit; did it never cross your mind to pass on this information?’ She wanted to scream at the man. What was wrong with people?

Margeir said nothing, apparently pondering his situation. ‘You’re his lawyer? And you were trying to reach me?’ Thóra nodded and he was silent for a moment. ‘I had nothing to do with the fire. I wasn’t here, I didn’t start it and I didn’t assist with any cover-up or anything like that. It’s not my fault the police messed up the investigation, but you’ve got to admit that it doesn’t make much difference to Jakob what kind of institution he lives in.’

Thóra was so offended by this that before she knew what she was doing she’d smacked the man hard on his injured arm. ‘You arsehole! I’m going to do everything in my power to ensure that things go badly for you. Stupid, ignorant bastard.’ Matthew looked at her in surprise, but said nothing.

Margeir stared at her and rubbed his upper arm, flabbergasted. Then suddenly it was as if all the wind were knocked out of him. He looked miserably at the snow and the wingless angel that had formed where he’d just been lying. ‘That was a stupid thing to say. I know.’ He sighed and shuffled his feet as if to keep himself warm. ‘If I tell you what I know, he’ll be released. Won’t he? That’s the most important thing.’

‘It will help. Who started the fire?’ Thóra knew how important it was to get this out of the man in case he changed his mind before the police arrived.

‘Bjarki Emil.’ Margeir looked from her to Matthew. ‘I don’t know his surname.’

‘It’s Jónasson.’ He could be just trying to pin the blame on a dead man who can’t defend himself, thought Thóra. ‘The man found dead at Nauthólsvík. You know that the police are searching for you in connection with his death?’

‘Yes. I know.’ Margeir directed his attention towards Matthew. ‘He fell backwards onto the rocks, and the fall killed him. I didn’t push him or anything. I just wanted to get him to turn himself in and confess everything. I didn’t care what the consequences were for me.’ Neither Matthew nor Thóra pointed out to him that if this were true then he would hardly have been on the run through the back gardens of Mosfellsbær or scurrying around the charred remains of a building in the middle of nowhere. ‘It was an accident, but I panicked and tried to get rid of the body – I was afraid I’d be blamed. It didn’t work, he didn’t burn like I hoped he would. There wasn’t enough petrol in the can in the boot of my car.’

‘Did you think that he would disappear? Turn into ashes?’ The tone of Matthew’s voice had hardly changed and Thóra admired how calm he seemed.

‘No, I was going to burn the flesh off so he’d be more likely to sink. I couldn’t start dragging a body around trying to find a more sensible place to dump it.’ His expression turned sheepish. ‘And I was in a state of shock; I couldn’t think straight. I guess I thought it was appropriate somehow, considering what he did.’

‘Did you know from the outset that he’d started the fire?’ Thóra tried to emulate Matthew’s composure. The smell of smoke was having a bad effect on her mood; she couldn’t shake off the images of the residents’ blackened bodies.

‘No, I didn’t know it but I suspected it. I met him to find out for sure; I couldn’t get any peace because of all the insane phone calls and text messages, and I wanted to do the right thing.’

‘And he admitted to having started the fire?’

Margeir shook his head. ‘No. Fucking idiot. But it was him. I know it was.’

‘And how do you know that? Did someone else tell you?’ Thóra was afraid that Jósteinn had perhaps believed he could play God and had put some sort of nonsense into this young, nervy man’s head.