Арнальдур Индридасон - The Shadow District

‘I know.’

‘I couldn’t allow it. Just couldn’t. I couldn’t... perhaps if it had only been my grandfather... but my father was... my father was no better... I caught the old man in my father’s room and threw him out... He started going on about Rósamunda and claiming that Dad had... I didn’t know what to do...’

Benjamín was incapable of continuing. For a long time he just stood there, eyes lowered, until finally he drew an envelope from his pocket and held it out to Konrád. ‘I found this in his flat and didn’t dare leave it behind.’

Konrád took the letter. It was addressed to Thorson. Reading it, he saw that it was from Thorson’s old colleague Flóvent. It included the information that Hólmbert had been the police’s main informant in the case against Jónatan.

‘I didn’t dare leave it behind,’ repeated Benjamín. ‘After I’d... I’d... what I’d done...’

Hearing a knock at the door, Thorson went and opened it, only to discover that Hólmbert’s son had come to see him. It was just after lunch and Thorson had been about to go for a rest as was his habit at this time of day. But he had been half expecting this visit.

‘I wanted to apologise for what happened at the nursing home earlier,’ said the man, having introduced himself as Benjamín. He seemed perfectly calm now that he was standing on Thorson’s landing. ‘I had no right to speak to you like that, let alone threaten you,’ he went on. ‘I was brought up to respect my elders, so I do hope you won’t hold it against me. What you told me came as a shock, but my behaviour... it didn’t do me any credit and I wanted to apologise.’

‘I was only saying what I believe to be true,’ said Thorson.

‘Of course, I do see that. I hope you’ll forgive me. Ideally, I’d like a chance to get to the bottom of this matter myself, but if you feel the need to involve the police, of course you have every right. And I’ll give them all the assistance I can.’

‘I’m glad to hear that.’

‘To be honest, it came as a horrible shock... Look, could I possibly come in for a minute? I feel awkward discussing this on the landing.’

‘Please do.’

‘Thank you.’ Benjamín followed Thorson into the sitting room.

‘Unfortunately, I have good grounds for believing that what I told you earlier is true,’ said Thorson. ‘Although nobody else remembers the events any more, I do, and if my suspicion proves correct, the case will have to be reopened.’

‘Yes, of course, I can see that now I’ve had time to think,’ said Benjamín. ‘Of course the whole incident needs re-examining. I couldn’t agree more. I take it you’ve already spoken to the police?’

‘I’m planning to do so shortly. I know this will be unwelcome news for you. Presumably you’ll want to discuss it with your brothers and sisters, and your mother?’

‘Yes, naturally. My father’s seriously ill. He won’t be aware of what’s going on even if the case does become a police matter. On health grounds, I very much doubt he’ll be forced to stand trial. He hasn’t got long to live. I was wondering...’

‘Yes?’

‘I was wondering if I could appeal to your sense of compassion,’ said Benjamín. ‘If what you say is true, don’t you think that justice has already been done? He’s suffered. My mother’s suffering. It’s been incredibly painful for me to see someone who was always so strong and vigorous reduced to an unrecognisable husk by this horrific disease.’

‘I suppose that’s not really the kind of justice I was talking about,’ said Thorson. ‘What you say is quite right: your father’s a very sick man. But, strange as it may seem to you, he’s the least of my concerns. What concerns me is a young man called Jónatan and a detective I once worked with, whose name was Flóvent. I owe it to Jónatan to see that the truth comes out. And Flóvent would have wanted me to clear the boy’s name. We abandoned the inquiry just when it should have been getting going. I left the country. Flóvent was badly hit by Jónatan’s death. We both were. It’s not too late...’

‘For the truth to come out?’

‘Yes.’

‘Is there nothing I can do to change your mind?’

‘I’m afraid not.’

‘Well, in my view what you claim is outrageous,’ said Benjamín. ‘I still can’t understand how you’ve come to such a conclusion. But that’s your business. All I beg is that you shield my father, shield those of us in his family who are still alive...’

‘I can only do what’s right,’ said Thorson. ‘However badly it may affect you.’

‘What do you mean by “right”? Do you really think it’s right to destroy my family?’ Benjamín hesitated a moment, then continued. ‘I’m a wealthy man. If you’d like me to make a donation to some charity or organisation... some pension fund... either now or in the event you ever find yourself in need...’

Thorson shook his head.

‘Incidentally, that’s in no way intended as an admission,’ said Benjamín. ‘Only that I know that the moment this becomes public — assuming the police make it public — the rumour mill will start up and it’ll be almost impossible to reverse the damage. I run a large company. We’re prominent members of society. Allegations of this kind would be a serious blow to our reputation.’

Thorson didn’t know how to respond to this.

‘Are you quite sure it was my father who did this to the girls?’ asked Benjamín.

‘I’m convinced, and I believe a proper investigation will confirm my findings. At least in Rósamunda’s case. Hrund is more difficult. Her body was never found, so there’s no way of knowing exactly what happened.’

‘I see. Fine. Then I’ll expect a call from the police shortly. Again, please excuse my behaviour earlier — I lost my temper when you started coming out with those allegations. I hope you won’t hold it against me.’

‘Thank you for coming to see me,’ said Thorson. ‘And for your understanding. I believe it’s best for everyone concerned to have this matter cleared up once and for all.’

‘Yes, maybe you’re right.’

Thorson made to rise and show his visitor to the door, but Benjamín told him not to inconvenience himself; he could see himself out. They shook hands in parting.

‘You’re dead set on this?’ said Benjamín.

‘Yes, I’m afraid so.’

‘All right, goodbye then,’ Benjamín said, his voice dropping to a whisper, and he left the room.

Thorson heard the door close behind him and sat for a while, thinking over the visit and wondering if he was doing the right thing by rescuing the case from oblivion and trying to have the investigation reopened. He was feeling more tired than usual after his trip to the nursing home and Benjamín’s subsequent visit; the whole business must have affected him more than he’d realised. He thought about how convenient Jónatan’s death had been for Hólmbert. How he had seized the chance to pull the wool over the eyes of the police, blaming Jónatan for the sole purpose of deflecting suspicion from himself.

Gazing unseeing out of the window overlooking the garden, Thorson made up his mind once and for all to take his discoveries to the police without further delay.

He went into the bedroom, opened the drawer of his bedside table and took out the photo of his lover that he’d kept by his side all these years. It brought up painful memories of the lengths to which they’d had to go to keep their relationship a secret, the social stigma that used to be attached to people like them. Although times had changed for the better, out of habit he still kept the picture discreetly tucked away in a drawer. It reminded him of the trials they’d had to endure, the prejudice they’d faced. He took it out almost every day, seeing again that direct gaze, that inscrutable smile, and remembered the time they’d had together, the love they’d shared, the love he had lost and grieved for ever since.