Arnaldur Indridason - Voices

“You too,” Erlendur said. “Merry Christmas.”

In the lobby, Erlendur glanced into the dining room packed with tourists gorging themselves on the Christmas Eve buffet and chattering away in all imaginable languages, their joyful murmuring spreading all over the ground floor. He couldn’t help thinking that one of them was holding a murder weapon in his hands.

He told the head of reception that Rosant may well have been responsible for sending the woman who slept with him that night and who demanded payment afterwards. The man replied that he was beginning to suspect something of the sort. He had already informed the owners of the hotel about what manager and head waiter were up to, but did not know how they would tackle the matter.

Erlendur caught a glimpse of the hotel manager looking in astonishment at Eva Lind. He was going to pretend he hadn’t noticed him, but the manager darted into his path.

“I” just wanted to thank you, and of course you don’t need to pay for your stay!”

“I’ve already settled,” Erlendur said. “Goodbye.”

“What about Henry Wapshott?” the manager asked, blocking Erlendur’s way. “What are you going to do with him?”

Erlendur stopped. He was holding Eva Lind by the hand and she looked at the manager with drowsy eyes.

“We’re sending him home. Was there anything else?”

The manager dithered.

“Are you going to do anything about those lies the girl told you about the conference guests?”

Erlendur smiled to himself.

“Are you worried about that?”

“It’s all lies.”

Erlendur put his arm around Eva Lind and they set off towards the front door.

“We’ll see,” he said.

When they crossed the lobby Erlendur noticed people stopping all about and looking around. The sentimental Christmas songs were no longer jingling through the speakers, and Erlendur smiled to himself when he heard that the reception manager had agreed to his request and changed the music on the sound system. He thought about the records. He had asked Stefania where she thought they might be, but she didn’t know. Had no idea where her brother kept them, and was uncertain whether they would ever be found.

Gradually the murmuring in the dining room died down. The guests exchanged astonished looks and peered up at the ceiling in search of the wondrously beautiful song that reached their ears. The staff stopped in their tracks to listen. Time seemed to stand still.

They left the hotel and in his mind Erlendur sang the beautiful hymn in chorus with the young Gudlaugur, and sensed once again the deep yearning in the boy’s voice.

O Father, turn me into a light for all my life’s short stay…