Arnaldur Indridason - Oblivion

Caroline walked up to Pratt who was still staring at the ground, put her hand under his chin and raised his head so he met her eye.

‘Is this correct, Private?’

‘Earl threw him off the platform, ma’am,’ said Pratt. ‘I... I thought we were just going to scare him a little but Earl... he went crazy. He wanted... he wanted him to suffer for... because of Joan. He didn’t give a damn about the money the guy owed him. Earl just couldn’t stand that she’d been with... with that guy.’

‘With an Icelandic, you mean?’ prompted Caroline.

Pratt didn’t answer. He shot a nervous glance at Gates.

‘Answer her!’ barked the colonel.

‘Yes, ma’am,’ said Pratt. ‘With an Icelandic. Earl couldn’t stand that. He hated it.’

‘Who told Earl about Joan and Kris?’

‘I don’t know.’

‘Was it Wilbur Cain?’

‘I don’t know.’

‘Are you familiar with the name?’

‘No, ma’am.’

‘Sure?’

‘Yes, ma’am.’

Colonel Gates made a sign and Private Pratt was escorted out of the hangar.

‘Where is Jones?’ asked Marion. ‘Where is he now? Have you got him in custody?’

Gates nodded.

‘We’d like him handed over,’ said Marion. ‘We’d like all three of them handed over.’

Gates consulted his watch. ‘The plane’s due to land in an hour,’ he said. ‘Earl Jones was arrested in Greenland this morning. There’s no question of handing him over. We don’t extradite our military personnel. You are now in possession of all the relevant information and can be sure the inquiry is safe in our hands. Your part in this is over.’

‘But they murdered an Icelandic citizen,’ said Marion. ‘Earl Jones assaulted his wife.’

‘We’ll deal with that.’

Gates turned on his heel to march out of the hangar.

‘You asked what we were looking for in Hangar 885,’ Marion called at his retreating back. ‘Don’t you want to know what it was?’

Gates didn’t react.

‘Isn’t that where you keep the nuclear warheads?’ Marion asked.

Gates opened the door.

‘We know about Northern Cargo Transport,’ Marion added.

Gates turned back and rested his gaze on Marion. Then he pushed the door to again.

‘What do you mean by Northern Cargo Transport? What are you talking about?’

‘We know you use fake airlines to ferry weapons between countries,’ Marion said, improvising frantically.

‘And?’

‘We know about the flights to Thule.’

Gates studied Marion and Caroline in turn, as if weighing up what to believe. Marion tried to keep a poker face, praying the bluff would work.

‘I don’t believe you know anything,’ Gates said.

‘Where’s Wilbur Cain? Why was he in contact with Kristvin?’

‘I told you we are not aware of the existence of anyone by the name of Wilbur Cain.’

‘He’s—’

‘Why do you keep asking about this man? We’re not aware of his existence.’

‘You’re disowning him, you mean?’

‘I mean we don’t know who he is.’

‘What was Cain doing with Kristvin at the Animal Locker?’

Slowly Gates retraced his steps towards them.

‘All I know is that we heard there was an Icelandic employee snooping around our aircraft, asking questions about matters that didn’t concern him. When the case was looked into it turned out that he had a head full of half-baked conspiracy theories that were laughable at best.’

‘That’s not what we heard.’

‘You’re getting mixed up in things that are no concern of yours,’ said Gates.

‘We want the men. We want to take over the investigation. We want to question them and try them in an Icelandic court,’ said Marion.

‘Out of the question.’

‘All right,’ said Marion. ‘Then you can expect a visit from a delegation to inspect your activities here on the base. To open up the hangars. Look inside the planes. Examine the contents of your storage facilities. I reckon we have enough information about Northern Cargo Transport, Thule and the planes carrying nuclear weapons landing here to have the whole nation up in arms against you.’

There was a pregnant pause.

‘You won’t find anything,’ said Gates.

‘I’m not sure we need to,’ retorted Marion.

Gates shook his head. ‘I don’t advise you to try.’

‘We just need to make enough noise,’ said Marion. ‘You must realise it’s not in your interests for this situation to last much longer. To have us nosing around up here and persuading people like Caroline to assist us. Talking to military personnel without permission. Entering controlled areas you’d prefer to keep closed. It can’t be convenient for you to have us disrupting your activities here with all kinds of inquiries and other aggravation. I assume you’d prefer it to stop sooner rather than later.’

Gates still wavered.

‘We want those men,’ repeated Marion.

Gates looked at Caroline standing quietly beside the Icelandic police officer, contributing nothing to the conversation.

‘OK,’ he said at last. ‘I’m prepared to help you with the investigation into the death of this Icelander. Would that be sufficient to create trust?’

‘I don’t know,’ said Marion. ‘Help us how?’

‘If we come to an agreement, I must stress that it would not in any way constitute recognition of the validity of your insinuations regarding nuclear weapons.’

‘Meaning...?’

‘You can arrest the men. Conduct the interrogations and complete the inquiry. But they’ll be tried by us.’

Marion turned to Caroline.

‘Would you like the honour of locking Jones up?’

Three-quarters of an hour later an inbound military transport from Greenland taxied up to one of the hangars. Marion and Caroline watched the huge beast approach with a thunderous roar that gradually died away once the engines had been turned off. Colonel Gates and his men were nowhere to be seen. Caroline had called for backup from military police and several other officers were standing behind her as the ramp was driven up to the plane. The door in the fuselage opened and after a brief interval a man appeared accompanied by two military policemen, a short figure, in handcuffs, dressed in green combat trousers and jacket. He had seen what was happening from the window of the plane as it taxied to a halt by the hangar, and stood looking down apprehensively at the reception committee on the tarmac. Reluctantly, he descended the steps until he came face to face with Caroline.

‘Private Earl Jones?’ she said.

‘Yes, ma’am,’ said the man. He had a narrow face with dark stubble and black eyebrows that almost met in the middle. Despite his muscular build his shoulders were a little rounded and he had an obtuse look in his eyes.

Caroline slapped his face so hard that her palm stung afterwards.

‘Joan says hello.’

Erlendur parked in front of the house, marvelling yet again at how it had been allowed to go to rack and ruin. Neither the building nor the surrounding plot showed the slightest evidence of care. Instead, the whole place bore witness to a paralysing apathy, to long years of neglect and decay, as if blighted by death itself. He lit a cigarette. Mensalder was no longer with him. He had dropped him back at the petrol station where his car was parked. Mensalder had been so depressed and subdued that Erlendur hardly heard his goodbye. They had spoken little on the return journey. Having told him everything that mattered, Mensalder had retreated into his own thoughts, doubts and regrets — old enemies that Erlendur suspected would weigh on him more heavily than ever before in the coming days.

Erlendur sat for a considerable time outside the house. A newsflash on the radio announced that the two men lost on the Eyvindarstadir Moors had been found dead. It appeared that one had fallen into a hole in the ice and been unable to climb out again. The other man had tried in vain to help. When the rescue team found him he was lying frozen to death a few feet from the hole, as if he would not for the world have abandoned his friend.