Arnaldur Indridason - Oblivion

Again Erlendur told him not to worry, puzzled by Rasmus’s sudden metamorphosis into an embarrassed host. One would have thought his greatest source of concern was not being able to entertain his guest properly. Perhaps this was a Danish habit instilled by his mother.

‘I should have let you know I was coming,’ Erlendur said, entering into the social pretence, though he knew it would have made no difference if he had given advance warning. ‘Could you tell me when you last saw Dagbjört?’

‘I don’t know... it’s been a long time,’ said Rasmus, his mouth scarcely moving, his lips pursed together as if he were reluctant to let the words escape. ‘I thought it had all been forgotten about years ago but then you turn up and start acting with a disgraceful rudeness I’ve never encountered before, and start interrogating me about her. It’s... I’ve... to tell the truth it’s come as quite a shock.’

‘You’d been living here for two years when Dagbjört went missing,’ said Erlendur. ‘Did you watch her from your window all that time?’

‘No, it wasn’t like that. Don’t try and make it sound dirty. It wasn’t like that.’

‘It sounds to me as if she was afraid of you,’ said Erlendur. ‘She must have found it excruciatingly embarrassing or she’d have told her parents straight away. Or her friends. She hardly dared confide it to her diary. She tore out the pages and hid them.’

Rasmus regarded him expressionlessly.

‘No doubt she’d have complained about you if she’d discovered your spying earlier, but this was only two weeks before she disappeared. I want to know if anything happened during that time?’

Rasmus didn’t answer.

‘Did she speak to you?’

Rasmus shook his head.

‘Did you notice when Dagbjört caught you spying on her? Did she spot you lurking here in the dark? Do you remember?’

‘She saw me, yes,’ said Rasmus after a lengthy pause. ‘One evening she saw me and... then it was over. I never watched her again. I was so ashamed. She was never supposed to find out. After that she used to draw her curtains. And that was it.’

‘How come she noticed you?’

‘Clumsiness,’ said Rasmus. ‘I moved too close to the window and was suddenly visible to her and I realised at once that she suspected this wasn’t the first time I’d... I’d watched her. I’d been found out and I assumed her parents would be straight round and she’d come with them and point the finger at me, and they’d be outraged because what I’d done was ugly. So ugly I should have gone to prison for it. But then... nothing happened. No one came round until you turned up at my door all these years later. She never told anyone.’ His words faded to a whisper.

‘What made you behave like that?’ asked Erlendur.

‘I don’t know,’ said Rasmus. ‘I didn’t have many friends and...’

‘Surely you didn’t think she’d become your friend?’

‘Oh, no, no, I never even dreamt of that. I’d have really liked to get to know her, really, really I would, but it was impossible. Impossible.’

‘You said you’d never spoken to Dagbjört. Was that true?’

‘Yes,’ said Rasmus after a moment’s hesitation.

‘I find it hard to believe you lived next door to her for two years without ever exchanging a word.’

‘No, it... perhaps what I said to you last time wasn’t strictly accurate but I didn’t think it mattered. I did speak to her a handful of times but not about anything important. I feel you’re trying to twist everything I say to make it sound suspicious, so I’m sorry if I was cagey. I ran into her once in a shop that used to be near here but closed down ages ago. We were standing in the queue and she was kind enough to spare a few words for me.’

‘So she showed you some minor attention? Was that why you used to stand in your window, spying on her and dreaming that you were lovers?’

Rasmus shook his head. ‘You’re deliberately misunderstanding me,’ he said. ‘You’re trying to get me into trouble. Mrs Kruse said girls were nothing but trouble and that I should watch myself with them, but I knew she was lying. She was a selfish woman. A spiteful woman. Dagbjört wasn’t like she said.’

‘Did she know what you were up to? Mrs Kruse? Did she know what you got up to in the evenings?’

Rasmus’s eyes widened. ‘I can’t tell you anything else,’ he said. ‘You mustn’t ask me questions like that. Don’t ask me any more questions.’

‘Did Mrs Kruse catch you acting the peeping Tom?’

‘No, don’t ask me that,’ said Rasmus, shaking his head, visibly agitated. ‘You’ve got no right. You’ve got no right to judge me. I’m not a monster! I just want to be left alone. I can’t help you any more. I don’t know what happened to Dagbjört. I’d never have hurt her. Never. And now I want you to leave. You can’t stay here any longer.’

‘But you were afraid of being found out, weren’t you?’

‘It was—’

‘You were scared out of your wits that Dagbjört would report you,’ said Erlendur, moving closer to Rasmus. ‘You were terrified she’d tell her parents. Isn’t that how it went? You couldn’t bear to think of them finding out what you did alone in the evenings while you watched their daughter undress. While you watched her take off—’

‘Stop it! Don’t say that! Don’t say it. You don’t know what you’re talking about. How could you say something like that?’

‘But it’s the truth, isn’t it?’

‘No! No! It’s not.’

‘Are you sure?’

‘I could never have hurt her,’ shouted Rasmus, his voice cracking, and retreating from Erlendur further inside the house. ‘Never. I used to watch over her so no harm would come to her. I was like her guardian angel, watching over her as she fell asleep. I could never have hurt her. I worshipped her. You’ve got to believe me,’ he whimpered. ‘You’ve got to believe me. I took part in the search too and prayed to God every evening that she’d be found. You’ve got to believe me. I could never have hurt her. I could never have hurt a hair on her head.’

Rasmus retreated down the hall, backing towards the staircase until he stumbled over the bottom step. Recovering his balance, he climbed onto it and paused there. Erlendur could now see better in the gloom and was able to make out the study, a dining room and a kitchen to one side of him. Along the walls stood bundles of newspapers, tied together with string. The floor was strewn with plastic bags of rubbish. He could see the dim shapes of shelves, old furniture and paintings on the walls. There were cardboard boxes and packages on the floor and surfaces. On every side Erlendur was confronted with the clutter and chaos of a man who was trying to keep the world at a safe distance by turning this dark house into a refuge.

‘I’m sorry if I went too far,’ said Erlendur, feeling pity for the recluse. ‘I didn’t mean to upset you. Didn’t mean to scare you.’

Rasmus was looking at him sceptically.

‘I just have a few more questions, then I’ll go,’ said Erlendur.

‘You can’t force your way in here and speak to me like that,’ said Rasmus, still hurt and angry.

‘No, I know. I overstepped the mark. It won’t happen again. Just a few more questions, then I’ll be gone. When did you last speak to her?’

‘What do you mean?’

‘You said you’d spoken to Dagbjört several times. Once when you met her in the shop. When was the last time you spoke to her?’

‘Shortly before she went missing. It was out here in the street, a bit further down. We got talking. She was having a party that evening and wanted to apologise in advance in case her friends were too noisy. I told her not to worry. I could tell by looking at her how much she was looking forward to it.’