Arnaldur Indridason - Arctic Chill

He received no answer. The figure tried with all its might to break free but Erlendur was strong and it could not get away.

“Do you understand Icelandic?”

The figure did not answer.

“I don’t want you to do anything stupid,” he said. “I want to help you.”

No answer.

“I’m going to let you go,” Erlendur said. “Don’t run away. I need to talk to you.”

He gradually relaxed his hold and finally released the figure who immediately took to its heels. He chased it a few steps and saw it run across the square. As he watched it go, wondering if he had any chance of catching up with this light-footed person, his quarry began to slow down and finally stopped under the statue of the independence hero, Jon Sigurdsson. It turned and looked at Erlendur who stood motionless, waiting to see what would happen. A long time elapsed until finally the figure began to walk slowly back towards him.

On the way it removed its baseball cap, revealing thick, black hair, and when it reached him it untied the scarf from its face so that he could see who it was.

Hallur sat between his parents, insisting that he knew nothing about the wood-carving knife that Anton claimed to have given him. The police had found his full name and address in the school register. He was acquainted with Doddi and Anton, who were the same age as him but in a different class. He did not know them well, however, as he was new to this part of town. His family had moved into the area about six months ago. Hallur was an only child, quite short, with a mane of unruly dark hair covering his eyes. He repeatedly flicked his head whenever his fringe blocked his view. He was very calm and looked wide-eyed at Sigurdur Oli and Elinborg in turn.

His parents were very eager to please. They were not at all annoyed at being disturbed so late in the evening by Sigurdur Oli and Elinborg. They chatted about the crazy weather that had been forecast and the mother offered the detectives coffee. They lived in a two-storey detached house.

“I expect you’re talking to lots of children from the school,” the mother said. “On account of that ghastly business. Are you getting anywhere with your inquiries?”

The father regarded them in silence.

“We’re making progress,” Elinborg said, her eyes on Hallur.

“We thought you’d probably call round,” the woman said. “Aren’t you talking to all the kids at the school? Do you know anything about this knife, Hallur dear?” she asked her son.

“No,” Hallur said a second time.

“I’ve never seen him with a knife,” she said. “I can’t imagine who could have told you that Hallur has this knife. I . . . it’s rather shocking when you come to think of it. I mean, that people can make wild accusations like that. Don’t you think?”

She looked at Elinborg as if they women should stand together.

“Still, it’s not as bad as having your child stabbed to death,” Elinborg said.

“We have no reason to disbelieve the testimony of the boys who told us,” Sigurdur Oli said.

“Do you know anything about these boys, Doddi and Anton?” the woman asked her husband. “I’ve never heard of them. We ought to know all Hallur’s friends.”

“They’re not his friends,” Sigurdur Oli said. “Though one of them, Anton, wants to be his friend. That’s why he gave Hallur the knife and delayed telling us about it for as long as possible. Isn’t that right?” he asked, looking at Hallur.

“I don’t really know Anton,” Hallur said. “I don’t know many people at school”

“He’s only been there since the autumn, since we moved,” his mother said.

“You moved, when, last summer?”

“Yes,” the mother answered.

“How have you settled into your new school?” Elinborg asked.

“You know,” Hallur said. “Fine.”

“But you don’t have any friends there … ?”

The question dangled in the air.

“He’s adjusted very well,” the woman said at last, looking at her husband who had not contributed anything to the conversation as yet.

“Have you changed schools often?” Sigurdur Oli asked.

Hallur looked at his mother.

“About three times,” he said.

“But this time we’re staying put,” the woman added, directing another glance at her husband.

“Anton said you were with another boy when he met you and gave you the knife,” Sigurdur Oli said. Anton didn’t know him and said he wasn’t at the school. Who was this boy?”

“He didn’t give me any knife,” Hallur said. “He’s lying.”

Are you sure?” Elinborg asked.

Anton had confessed under cross-examination to having given Hallur the knife. A boy he had never seen before had been with Hallur at the time. Hallur was new to the school and kept a fairly low profile, though Anton said that he had once been round to see him at that big house. According to Anton, Hallur had talked candidly about his parents, describing his mother as an appalling snob, who was constantly interfering, a total control freak. His parents were forever in financial difficulties; once their house had even been repossessed, yet this did not seem to prevent them from living in some luxury. Hallur had the biggest collection of computer games Anton had ever seen.

He didn’t know why Hallur wanted the knife, unless perhaps because it was stolen. Hallur saw him with it and when Anton told him that Doddi had stolen it from the carpentry workshop, Hallur suddenly became very keen to acquire it. They met round at Anton’s. Hallur brought along another boy the same age but Anton did not know his name.

“You went round to Anton’s,” Sigurdur Oli said. “You gave him a computer game, he gave you the knife.”

“That’s a lie,” Hallur said.

“There was a boy with you at Anton’s place,” Elinborg said. “Who was he?”

“My cousin was with me.”

“What’s his name?”

“Gusti.”

“When was this?”

“I don’t remember, several days ago.”

“His name’s Agust, he’s my brother’s son,” the woman said. “He and Hallur spend a lot of time together.”

Sigurdur Oli noted down the name.

“I don’t know why Anton’s claiming he gave me the knife,” Hallur said. “He’s lying. It’s his knife. He’s just trying to frame me.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know.”

“Can you tell us where you were last Tuesday afternoon when Elias was stabbed?” Elinborg asked.

“Is this really necessary?” Hallur’s father asked. “You’re talking to him as if he’s done something wrong.”

“We’re just checking the reliability of the witness statement we’ve taken, nothing more,” Elinborg said, without removing her eyes from Hallur. “Where were you?”

“He was at home,” the woman said. “He was asleep in his room. He finished school at one and slept till four. I was at home.”

“Is that right?” Elinborg asked the boy.

“Yes,” he said.

“Sleep a lot during the day, do you?”

“Sometimes.”

“We can never get him to bed in the evening,” his mother said. “He’s up all night. It’s hardly surprising he sleeps during the day.”

“Don’t you go out to work?” Elinborg asked, addressing the mother.

“I only work half days,” she said. “In the mornings.”

When the figure removed the muffling scarf, Erlendur found himself face to face with Sunee’s brother Virote. He was still holding the bag of drink-cans.

“You?” Erlendur said.

“How you find me?” Virote asked.

“I… what are you doing out in this weather?”

“You follow me?”

“Yes,” Erlendur said. “Do you collect cans?”

“It pay little money”

“Where’s Niran?” Erlendur asked. “Do you know?”