Arnaldur Indridason - Oblivion

‘I thought you ought to know,’ said Marion.

‘Do you think I give a damn what you have to say? How would you react if the FBI flew into Reykjavík and started interrogating people all over the place without obtaining permission? Would you welcome them with open arms? Would you think it was all fine and dandy if the FBI were running their own police investigation in Reykjavík? Wouldn’t you want to prevent it? Ask what was going on?’

‘But you people refused to cooperate!’

‘Do you think we give a shit if a cop like you starts threatening us? You’re on US territory. Your threats have no substance here.’ He turned to Caroline. ‘What I don’t understand is why you got involved in all this, Sergeant.’

‘The Icelandic police came to me for help, after all cooperation had been refused. I wanted... to find out what happened. I’m a police officer. That’s my job.’

‘Is it also your job to disobey your superior officers? The military police received orders, along with everyone else, that all inquiries about this particular case should be referred to the base authorities. I know for a fact that you received those orders. Why did you choose to ignore them?’

‘What are you hiding in the hangar?’ countered Caroline. ‘Why wouldn’t you just cooperate with the Icelandic police? What do you have to hide?’

‘What were you doing in Hangar 885?’ repeated the man. ‘What do you think we’re hiding? What exactly were you looking for?’

‘I’ve just told you,’ said Marion. ‘We believe that an Icelandic civilian employed by Icelandair was killed in there. And we now believe we know who was responsible.’

‘Earl Jones?’

‘Yes. The Icelander was on the base that night and we’ve established that he fell from a great height. The only place this could realistically have happened is in the hangar. He used to work there from time to time. Earl Jones is a security guard in the hangar, as we’ve learned.’

‘Why was this man killed?’

‘Jealousy. Revenge. A moment of insanity. Jones found out his wife had been cheating on him with Kristvin. Are you Wilbur Cain?’

‘Cain?’

‘Yes.’

‘I’m not familiar with that name. My name’s Gates and I’m in Military Intelligence. Is that the only reason you entered the hangar?’

‘The only reason?’ said Caroline. ‘What do you mean? Isn’t that enough?’

‘Why don’t you just answer the question?’ said the man.

‘Do you really want to know?’ asked Marion.

‘I wasn’t talking to you.’

‘Do you want to know what we were looking for?’ Marion asked again, unabashed.

‘Marion...’ Caroline was afraid Marion was going to say too much.

The man studied Marion in silence. From his weary expression it was evident that he considered Marion a particularly tedious nuisance. At that moment the door opened and Master Sergeant Roberts appeared in the gap and gave the man a sign.

Billows of steam danced over the outdoor swimming pool before vanishing into the darkness. A bus drove down the street, a few passengers huddled by its windows. Three girls walked past, shrieking with laughter, but paid them no attention. Mensalder sat quietly in the car, rubbing his hands. Erlendur avoided putting any more pressure on him. He didn’t know what sort of mental struggle Mensalder was engaged in, but sensed it was far from easy for him to talk about Dagbjört. The minutes passed. Finally Mensalder seemed to pull himself together. With a heavy sigh he straightened up in his seat and met Erlendur’s eye.

‘I suppose this is what I’ve been dreading all along,’ he said. ‘This moment. When suspicion falls on me. I’ve always dreaded that. That it would happen one day and I’d be in deep trouble, with nothing to plead in my defence.’

‘I’m not with you.’

‘No, why should you be? I can hardly understand it myself. I never married, you know. Did Rósanna tell you that? I wanted to but I’ve never been very confident where women are concerned. I... then you get older and you’ve either wasted or messed up the few chances you had and find yourself on your own. And it had an effect on me, you know. What happened. She was so... lovely. So genuine. I sensed that as soon as I got talking to her. She showed an interest in me, thought it was exciting that I knew how to get my hands on all kinds of goods that were unobtainable, different, exotic and...’

Mensalder paused.

‘The thing is, I’d met someone else and that’s why I kept quiet about Dagbjört and never dared tell. I thought she’d come forward and point the finger at me if I owned up... And then there was the bloody smuggling. I was operating on a pretty big scale by then. It would all have been exposed and I’d have got into deep water for that too.’

‘Who’s “she”? What do you mean you’d met someone else? You’ll have to be clearer.’

‘A girl from Keflavík,’ said Mensalder. ‘I went out with her for a bit and she stole some dollars from me. I... she was a real bitch. This was a few months earlier. She worked on the base and used to go with the GIs. She was a real handful, kept getting into screaming matches with me and once it actually came to blows. After that she threatened to go to the police and say I’d attacked her — that I’d beaten her up and raped her. I was afraid she’d come forward if my name was linked to Dagbjört. So...’

‘What happened that morning?’ asked Erlendur. ‘What really happened?’

‘It was my idea to give her a lift to school,’ said Mensalder. ‘We were figuring out how and where to meet and I suggested I pick her up and drive her to school so she could collect the records and pay me at the same time. I was on my way out to Keflavík anyway. I could have let Rósanna take care of it and I’ve often thought since how much easier things would have been if only I’d done that. How my life might have turned out. But I... wanted to get to know Dagbjört. She was so... there was something so beautiful about her. So lovely. She was warm. A warm person. And I sensed she was interested in me too. There was... it was what she said, the way she said it. The way she smiled at me. I only met her that one time when I fetched the records from her house, and spoke to her once after that on the phone, but I immediately sensed there was some spark between us. Some connection. She was like that. She was giving. Kind. Took an interest in you.’

‘But you couldn’t just pick her up at her house?’

‘No, she was quite willing to accept a lift to school but insisted I meet her here. Perhaps she didn’t want to be seen with a black marketeer. I could understand that. And she’d have had a lot of explaining to do to her parents about who that man was waiting for her in the car outside her house first thing in the morning. We laughed about that.’

‘So it was all your idea from the beginning?’ said Erlendur. ‘To get in touch with her? To persuade her to meet you in secret? You prepared it well. You pretended you were going to drive her to school but took her somewhere else instead. Where? What happened? For God’s sake, what did you do to her?’

‘But that’s the whole point, I didn’t do anything!’ exclaimed Mensalder. ‘Not a thing! Haven’t you been listening to a word I said? The reason why I’ve never come clean about it?’

‘You said it was your idea to give her a lift. I assume you lured her into your car.’

‘This is just what I was afraid of,’ said Mensalder, extremely worked up by now. ‘Nobody’ll believe me. That’s why I’ve never dared tell. Because everyone would instantly come to the same conclusion as you. That I’d seduced her. That she owed me money for the goods and I wanted payment in kind. That I hit her, like that bitch in Keflavík accused me of. That I raped her. And killed her. All that rubbish.’