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Arnaldur Indriðason: Silence of the Grave

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Arnaldur Indriðason Silence of the Grave

Silence of the Grave: краткое содержание, описание и аннотация

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Dagger Awards Building work in an expanding Reykjavik uncovers a shallow grave. Years before, this part of the city was all open hills, and Erlendur and his team hope this is a typical Icelandic missing person scenario; perhaps someone once lost in the snow, who has lain peacefully buried for decades. Things are never that simple. Whilst Erlendur struggles to hold together the crumbling fragments of his own family, his case unearths many other tales of family pain. The hills have more than one tragic story to tell: tales of failed relationships and heartbreak; of anger, domestic violence and fear; of family loyalty and family shame. Few people are still alive who can tell the story, but even secrets taken to the grave cannot remain hidden forever.

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"I don't know anything about Eva," he said. "Talk to Alli."

"Alli?"

"And don't tell him I sent you."

5

Erlendur drove into the oldest part of town, down by the harbour, thinking about Eva Lind and thinking about Reykjavik. He had been born elsewhere and considered himself an outsider even though he had lived in the city for most of his life and had seen it spread across the bays and hills as the rural communities depopulated. A modern city swollen with people who did not want to live in the countryside or fishing villages any more, or could not live there, and came to the city to build new lives for themselves, but lost their roots and were left with no past and an uncertain future. He had never felt comfortable in the city.

Felt like a stranger.

Alli was about 20, scrawny, gingery and freckled; his front teeth were missing, his face was drawn and wan and he had a nasty cough. He was where Baddi had said he would be, sitting inside Kaffi Austurstraeti, alone at a table with an empty beer glass in front of him. He looked asleep, his head drooping and his arms folded over his chest. He wore a dirty green parka with a fur collar. Baddi had given a good description of him. Erlendur sat down at his table.

"Are you Alli?" he asked, but received no reply. He looked around the bar. It was dark inside and only a handful of people sat at the occasional table. A miserable country singer performed a melancholy song about lost love over a loudspeaker above them. A middle-aged barman sat on a stool behind the bar, reading a dogeared paperback.

Erlendur repeated the question and at length prodded the man's shoulder. He woke up and looked at Erlendur with gormless eyes.

"Another beer?" Erlendur asked, trying his best to smile. A grimace moved across his face.

"Who are you?" Alli asked, his eyes glazed. He made no attempt to conceal his idiotic expression.

"I'm looking for Eva Lind. I'm her father and I'm in a hurry. She phoned me and asked for help."

"Are you the cop?" Alli asked.

"Yes, I'm the cop," Erlendur said.

Alli sat up in his seat and looked around furtively.

"Why are you asking me?"

"I know that you know Eva Lind."

"How?"

"Do you know where she is?"

"You gonna buy me a beer?"

Erlendur looked at him and wondered for an instant whether he was using the right approach, but carried on anyway, he was running out of time. He stood up and walked quickly to the bar. The barman looked up reluctantly from his paperback, put it down with an air of regret and got up from his stool. Erlendur asked for a large beer. He was fumbling for his wallet when he noticed that Alli was gone. He took a quick look around and saw the door closing. Leaving the barman holding the glass of beer, he ran out and saw Alli making for the old houses in Grjótathorp.

Alli did not run very fast and did not last long either. He looked round, saw Erlendur in pursuit and tried to speed up, but had no stamina. Erlendur soon caught up with him and sent him moaning to the ground with a shove. Two bottles of pills rolled out of his pockets and Erlendur picked them up. They looked like Ecstasy. He tore Alli's coat off and heard more bottles rattling. When he had emptied the coat pockets Erlendur was left holding enough to fill an sizeable medicine cabinet.

"They'll… kill… me," Alli panted as he clambered to his feet. There were few people around. An elderly couple on the other side of the street, who had watched the action, hurried away when they saw Erlendur picking up one bottle of pills after another.

"I don't care," Erlendur said.

"Don't take that from me. You don't know how they…"

"Who?"

Alli huddled up against the wall of a house and started to cry.

"It's my last chance," he said, snot running from his nose.

"I don't give a shit what chance it is. When was the last time you saw Eva Lind?"

Alli snuffled, suddenly glared at Erlendur, as if eying a way out.

"Okay."

"What?"

"If I tell you about Eva, will you give those back to me?" he asked.

Erlendur thought it over.

"If you know about Eva I'll let you have it. If you're lying I'll come back and use you as a trampoline."

"Okay, okay. Eva came to see me today. If you see her, she owes me a bunch of money. I refused to give her any more. I don't deal to pregnant chicks."

"No," Erlendur said. "A man of principle, I suppose."

"She came round with her belly stuck out in the air and whined at me and started getting heavy when I wouldn't give her anything, then she left."

"Do you know where she went?"

"No idea."

"Where does she live?"

"A chick with no money. I need money, see. Or they'll kill me."

"Do you know where she lives?"

"Lives? Nowhere. She just crashes where she can. Scrounges. Reckons she can get it for nothing." Alli snorted disdainfully. "Like you could just give it away. Like it's just for free."

The gap where his teeth were missing gave his speech a soft lisp and he suddenly looked like a big child in his dirty parka, trying to put on a brave act.

Snot started dripping from his nose again.

"Where could she have gone?" Erlendur asked.

Alli looked at him and sniffed.

"Will you let me have that back?"

"Where is she?"

"Do I get it back if I tell you?"

"If you're not lying. Where is she?"

"There was a girl with her."

"Who? What's her name?"

"I know where she lives."

Erlendur took a step closer.

"You'll get it all back," he said. "Who was this girl?"

"Ragga. She lives just round the corner. On Tryggva-gata. At the top of the big building overlooking the dock." Alli hesitantly stretched out his hand. "Okay? You promised. Give it back to me. You promised."

"There's no way I could give it back to you, you idiot," Erlendur said. "If I had the time I'd take you down to the station and throw you in a cell. So you've come off the better for it."

"No, they'll kill me! Don't! Let me have it, please. Let me have it!"

Ignoring him, Erlendur left Alli snivelling up against the building, where he cursed himself and banged his head against the wall in feeble rage. Erlendur could hear the curses a long way off, but to his surprise Alli directed them not at him, but at himself.

"Fucking jerk, you're a fucking jerk…"

He looked round and saw Alli slapping himself in the face.

A little boy, possibly four years old, wearing pyjama bottoms, barefoot, his hair filthy, opened the door and looked up at Erlendur, who stooped down to him. When Erlendur put out his hand to stroke the boy's cheek he jerked his head back. Erlendur asked if his mother was home, but the boy just gave him a questioning look and made no reply.

"Is Eva Lind with you, sonny?" he asked.

Erlendur had the feeling time was running out. It was two hours since Eva Lind had phoned. He tried to dispel the thought that he was already too late to help her. Tried to imagine what kind of quandary she was in, but soon stopped torturing himself that way and concentrated on finding her. Now he knew who she was with when she left Alli that evening. He could sense he was getting closer to her.

Without answering, the boy darted back into the flat and disappeared. Erlendur followed, but could not see where he went. The flat was pitch dark and Erlendur fumbled to find a light switch on the walls. After trying several that did not work, he groped his way into a small room. At last a solitary light bulb, hanging from the ceiling, flickered on. There was nothing on the floor, only cold concrete. Dirty mattresses were spread all around the flat and on one of them lay a girl, slightly younger than Eva Lind, in tattered jeans and a red T-shirt. A metal box containing two hypodermic needles was open beside her. A thin plastic tube lay curled on the floor. Two men were sleeping on mattresses on either side of her.

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