Arnaldur Indridason - Oblivion

‘Yes, of course,’ he said. ‘The Americans had all the latest records. You could buy them in the shops but the GIs used to bring them out from home too. That’s where I first heard Elvis. Sinatra was very popular there too.’

‘Did you have a big collection yourself?’

‘Pretty big, yes.’

Mensalder gave Erlendur a puzzled look, as if he felt that this encounter was becoming oddly drawn out and circumstantial for a casual chat with a stranger on a garage forecourt. Perhaps he would have commented on the fact, but two cars drove up to the pumps. One stopped behind Erlendur, so he climbed into his car, moved off and parked round the corner. Then he went inside, paid for the petrol, made a minor purchase as an excuse to loiter, and picked up a newspaper and started reading about the hostage taking at the American Embassy in Teheran. Mensalder dealt with the two cars, then a third arrived, followed by several more. The man on the till went outside to help. After about quarter of an hour the flow of traffic relented and Mensalder was able to return to his game of patience.

‘Thank you,’ said Erlendur, finally preparing to leave.

‘Right,’ said Mensalder, looking up from his cards. ‘Was there anything else?’

‘No, that’s all. I’m sorry if I annoyed you by asking about the base.’

‘Seems to me like you’re mighty curious.’

‘It’s a bit of a hobby of mine at the moment,’ said Erlendur. ‘Anything to do with Keflavík and the soldiers, the Icelandic civilians who work there and their coexistence with the army. Of course, you’ve first-hand knowledge of all that.’

‘Yes, I suppose so.’

‘Did you have a car in those days? Car ownership wasn’t that common back then.’

‘When I worked at Keflavík? Yes, I had an old Morris. What did Rósanna say?’

‘Well, she mostly talked about how good you were at getting hold of the latest records for her.’

‘Really?’

‘Yes, it stuck in her memory,’ said Erlendur. ‘How you supplied them for her and her friends. Especially the records you sorted out for her when she was at the Women’s College and went to one of those girls’ parties. I don’t suppose you’d remember.’

‘No,’ said Mensalder.

‘But she did — she remembered you getting her a Doris Day record and another by Kay Starr.’

Mensalder bent over his game without replying. Despite being indoors, he was still wearing his coat and baseball cap, though he had taken off his gloves and laid them beside him on the table. Erlendur thought the man was beginning to suspect that he was no ordinary customer and their meeting was not a chance one after all.

‘Does that ring any bells?’

‘No, I can’t say it does.’

‘The party was held at the house of a girl called Dagbjört,’ said Erlendur. ‘Remember her?’

‘No, I can’t say I do.’

A lorry drew up at the pumps and Mensalder glanced over, then rose to his feet and put on his gloves.

‘Look, I haven’t got time for this,’ he said and, slipping past Erlendur, hurried outside, a stooping, work-worn figure, clearly shaken by this odd encounter.

Caroline sat thinking in silence for a while. Things had quietened down again outside the cinema. The last screening of the evening had begun and the audience had settled down with their popcorn, soft drinks and sweets to carefree enjoyment of the film.

‘Is there any way you can prove that?’ asked Marion at last.

‘Short of finding the bombs, no,’ said Caroline. ‘I don’t have any proof, it’s just something my friend put to me, half joking. All he knows is that NCT’s been employed for that kind of transport before and Cain’s name has come up in connection with that sort of operation. But he wouldn’t vouch for it. Just told me to draw my own conclusions.’

‘Do you think they could be stored in the hangar? If it’s true?’

‘I doubt it. There’s a whole lot of traffic passing through the hangar and if they want to hush up the presence of nuclear weapons on Icelandic soil, they’d put better precautions in place for hiding them. Or so I’d imagine.’

‘Do you have access to the hangar?’ asked Marion.

‘I can get myself inside if that’s what you mean,’ said Caroline. ‘I’m guessing you Icelandics haven’t signed any agreement allowing nuclear weapons to be located here?’

‘One of the conditions for the presence of the army is that they never store that type of weapon here without the permission of the Icelandic government,’ said Marion.

‘Do you think your government could have granted permission?’

‘I very much doubt they’d even consider it. It would be impossible to justify the presence of the army if news leaked out that they were stockpiling nuclear weapons here. Even less so if it turned out there was a tacit agreement with the Americans that’s been kept from the public.’

Marion looked at Caroline in the mirror.

‘There would be a hell of a stink if the news got out.’

‘So, in other words, it’s a sensitive issue?’

‘Extremely.’

‘Enough that they’d need to silence a man who knew something?’

‘Maybe,’ said Marion. ‘Kristvin was snooping around. He was in contact with a journalist in Reykjavík. He probably knew Wilbur Cain. I imagine this Cain must have tried to sound him out about what he’d uncovered. He may even have led Kristvin on, pretending to have information and fooling him into divulging how much he knew and what he meant to do with the knowledge. Cain would’ve had to decide how to proceed in light of that.’

‘And?’

‘Let’s say he persuaded Kristvin to meet him in the hangar. Pushed him off the scaffolding. Then drove his body out to the lava field at Svartsengi.’

‘That’s one scenario.’

‘What kind of bombs are we talking about?’

‘There’s a range of possibilities,’ said Caroline. ‘We have Lockheed P-3 Orions here. They can carry depth charges with nuclear warheads, designed to combat Soviet submarines. We also have F-4 Phantom fighter jets. They first arrived here six years ago. They can carry nuclear missiles designed for air-to-ground strikes.’

‘So all the necessary equipment’s available?’

‘Yes.’

‘We need to get inside that hangar,’ said Marion. ‘If Kristvin was killed in there, if he fell off the scaffolding, we have to examine the scene, even if all the evidence has been cleaned up. They may have started dismantling the work platforms, so we need to act fast.’

‘What about Cain?’

‘I reckon it would be best to smoke him out,’ said Marion. ‘I think we should force a face-to-face meeting as soon as possible, let him know what we suspect and that it’s all on record. That way we can hopefully guarantee that you won’t be in any danger from him. We need to make it clear to him that if anything happens to you, we know who’s responsible. Where does he live?’

‘No idea. Does that seem wise to you? To approach it like that? I don’t think he or anyone else round here’ll take the blindest bit of notice of the Icelandic police.’

‘I don’t know what else we can do. We’ve got to meet the man sooner or later and my instinct is that it’d be better to take him by surprise. He could go to ground or leave the country. You haven’t told anyone what you know except me and Erlendur and your friend Brad, so Cain’s presumably unaware of your enquiries. You’d better keep it that way. You haven’t told your superiors yet, have you?’

‘The stuff I’m telling you now? No, no one but you. But I’m not sure that was very smart of me.’

‘No, maybe not, but it’s better to be cautious.’

‘From what I hear Cain’s an extremely dangerous guy,’ said Caroline. ‘If you’re planning on paying him a visit, you’d better take precautions. Anyhow, we can’t be sure he’s in the country. He’s a free agent and comes and goes as he likes. And he may well know what I’m up to. I’ve been asking a lot of questions today. That’s why I wanted to know if my dorm was being watched.’