Arnaldur Indridason - The Draining Lake

“Do you ever wonder if Emil played a part in your expulsion?” Tomas asked.

“That’s impossible to say. Anyone could have grassed on me to the FDJ — more than one person, more than two. I blamed you, as you remember. I wrote you that note. It gets so complicated talking to people when you don’t know what you’re allowed to say. But I haven’t been dwelling on it. It’s over and done with long ago. Buried and forgotten.”

“Did you know that Lothar is in Iceland?” Tomas suddenly asked.

“Lothar? In Iceland? No, I didn’t.”

“He’s involved with the East German embassy, some kind of official there. I met him by chance — actually I didn’t meet him, I saw him. He was on his way to the embassy. I was walking down Aegisida. I live in the west of town. He didn’t notice me. I was some way off but it was him, large as life. I accused him back in Leipzig of being involved in Ilona’s disappearance and he said to me: “Take a closer look.” But I didn’t understand what he meant. I think I understand now.”

They stopped talking.

He looked at Tomas and could tell how helpless and alone in the world his former fellow student was, and wanted to do something for him.

“If I can help you with… you know, if I can do anything for you…”

“Did the professor say that Emil was operating with Lothar and gained from it?”

“Yes.”

“Do you know what became of Emil?”

“Isn’t he living abroad? I don’t think he came back when he graduated.”

They fell silent again for a while.

“That story about me and Ilona, who told you it?” Hannes asked.

“Lothar,” Tomas said.

Hannes was unsure how to proceed.

“I don’t know whether I should tell you this,” he said eventually, “but I heard something else just before I left. You were so upset when you got back from Germany and I didn’t want to spread gossip. There’s plenty of that anyway. But I was told Emil had been trying to get off with Ilona before you started going out together.”

Tomas stared at him.

“That’s what I heard,” Hannes said, seeing Tomas turn pale at the news. “There’s not necessarily any truth in it.”

“Are you saying they went out together before I…?”

“No, more that he was trying. He used to snoop around her, did voluntary work with her and…”

“Emil and Ilona?” Tomas groaned in disbelief, as if unable to grasp the idea.

“He was only trying, that was all I heard,” Hannes hurried to say, immediately regretting his words. He could tell from Tomas’s expression that he should never have mentioned it.

“Who told you this?” Tomas asked.

“I don’t remember and it needn’t be true.”

“Emil and Ilona? She didn’t fancy him?”

“Not at all,” Hannes said. “That was what I heard. She wasn’t interested in him. But Emil was hurt.”

They paused.

“Ilona never mentioned this to you?”

“No,” Tomas said. “She never did.”

“Then he left,” Hannes said, looking at Erlendur and Elinborg. “I haven’t seen him since and actually I have no idea whether he’s dead or alive.”

“That must have been a nasty experience for you in Leipzig,” Erlendur said.

“The worst things were being spied on and the endless suspicion. But it was a good place to be in many ways. Maybe we weren’t all happy to see the glorious face of socialism up close but most of us tried to live with the drawbacks. Some of us found it easier than others. In terms of education it was a model institution. The overwhelming majority of students were the children of farmers and workers. Has that happened anywhere before or since?”

“Why did Tomas turn up after all those years and ask you about Emil?” Elinborg said. “Do you think he went on to meet Emil again?”

“I don’t know,” Hannes said. “He never told me.”

“This girl Ilona,” Erlendur said, “is anything known about her?”

“I don’t think so. Times were strange because of Hungary, where everything later erupted. They weren’t going to let that happen in other communist countries. There was no leeway for exchanging views, for criticism or debate. I don’t think anyone knows what became of Ilona. Tomas never found out. I don’t think so anyway, although it’s not really anything to do with me. Nor is that period in my life. I put it behind me a long while ago and I don’t like talking about it. They were awful times. Awful.”

“Who told you about Emil and Ilona?” Elinborg asked.

“His name’s Karl,” Hannes said.

“Karl?” Elinborg said.

“Yes,” Hannes said.

“Was he in Leipzig too?” she asked.

Hannes nodded.

“Do you know of any Icelanders who could have been in possession of such a thing as a Russian listening device in the 1960s?” Erlendur asked. “Who could have been dabbling in espionage?”

“A Russian listening device?”

“Yes, I can’t go into details but does anyone occur to you?”

“Well, if Lothar was an attache to the embassy he would be a candidate,” Hannes said. “I can’t imagine that… are you… you’re not talking about an Icelandic spy, are you?”

“No, I think that would be bizarre,” Erlendur said.

“Like I say, I’m just not in the picture. I’ve hardly had any contact with the group from Leipzig. I don’t know anything about Russian spying.”

“You wouldn’t happen to have a photograph of Lothar Weiser, would you?” Erlendur asked.

“No,” Hannes said. “I don’t have many mementoes from those years.”

“Emil seems to have been a secretive character,” Elinborg said.

“That may well be. As I told you, I think he’s lived abroad all his life. Actually I… the last time I saw him… was after Tomas paid me that weird visit. I saw Emil in the centre of Reykjavik. I hadn’t seen him since Leipzig and I only caught a glimpse, but I’m sure it was Emil. But as I say, I don’t know anything else about the man.”

“So you didn’t talk to him?” Elinborg asked.

“Talk to him? No, I couldn’t. He got into a car and drove away. I only saw him for a split second, but it was definitely him. I remember it because of the shock of suddenly recognising him.”

“Do you remember what kind of car it was?” Erlendur asked.

“What kind?”

“The model, colour?”

“It was black,” Hannes said. “I don’t know anything about cars. But I remember it was black.”

“Could it have been a Ford?”

“I don’t know.”

“A Ford Falcon?”

“Like I said, I only remember it being black.”

He put the pen down on the desk. In his account of the events in Leipzig and later in Iceland, he had tried to be as clear and succinct as possible. It ran to more than seventy carefully written pages which had taken him several days to produce, and he had still not finished the conclusion. He had made up his mind. He was reconciled to what he was going to do.

He had reached the point in his narrative where he was walking along Aegisida and saw Lothar Weiser approach one of the houses. Although he had not seen Lothar for years, he recognised him at once. With age Lothar had put on weight and now walked with more of a plod; he did not notice the onlooker. Tomas had stopped dead and stared at Lothar in astonishment. Once the surprise wore off, his first reaction was to keep out of sight, so he half-turned away and very slowly retraced his steps. He watched Lothar go through the gate, shut it carefully behind him and disappear behind the house. He presumed that the German had gone in through the back door. He noticed a sign saying “The Trade Delegation of the German Democratic Republic’.

Standing outside on the pavement, he stared at the house, transfixed. It was lunchtime and he had gone out for a stroll in the good weather. Normally he would use his lunch break for an hour at home. He worked for an insurance company in the town centre. He had been there for two years and enjoyed his job insuring families against setbacks. With a glance at his watch he realised he was due back.