Oblivion Page 13

  Caroline had asked Erlendur to meet them both behind the PX, and when he arrived the two women were standing there waiting for him. They climbed into the car and Caroline told him to drive over to the international passenger terminal. He stopped in the car park as if they were ordinary citizens there to pick up friends or relatives from the airport.

  Caroline was sitting in the back seat with the woman, Joan, who was plump and blonde with a good-natured expression. She explained that in the evenings she sometimes filled in for her friend who was a cocktail waitress at the Animal Locker, the enlisted club, also known as the Zoo. That’s where she had met Kristvin the first time. He had been in with a couple of friends, also flight mechanics, she thought, and the two of them had got talking at the bar. He had told her he loved the States, he had trained there and wouldn’t mind living there one day. With his qualifications he could work anywhere in the world and reckoned he would have no problem finding a job in the Promised Land. He had been offered positions by some major airlines when he’d finished his training and had big plans for the future. It was clear he’d been showing off, flirting with the cocktail waitress at the Animal Locker.

  ‘So did you two start meeting up after that?’ asked Caroline.

  ‘You promised this wouldn’t go any further,’ said Joan with a slightly sing-song drawl that Erlendur associated with the Deep South. She’d been smoking when she got into the car and was already lighting the next cigarette.

  ‘We’ll have to see about that.’

  ‘No, you promised.’

  ‘You know I can’t promise something like that,’ said Caroline. ‘I’m not sure you appreciate the extreme seriousness of this –’

  ‘You promised –’

  ‘I didn’t promise anything. Let’s hear what you have to say, then we’ll have a better idea of the situation. I’m sure the Icelandic police are very grateful for your cooperation,’ she added, catching Erlendur’s eye.

  He nodded.

  ‘What happened after you met at the Animal Locker?’ he asked.

  ‘He didn’t know I was married,’ said Joan. ‘I didn’t tell him. Not right away. We met about three times. Once at the hotel near here, in the town whose name I can never remember.’

  ‘Keflavík?’

  ‘That’s the one. Then twice at my apartment when Earl flew to Greenland. Earl’s my husband,’ she explained to Erlendur.

  ‘This wasn’t the first time you’d cheated on your husband, was it?’ said Caroline bluntly.

  ‘Why do you say that?’ asked Joan, with an expression of aggrieved surprise.

  ‘Just a hunch,’ said Caroline.

  ‘I won’t be judged by you … I don’t know what –’

  ‘I’m not judging you. Far from it.’

  ‘Earl’s –’

  Joan broke off and Erlendur sensed that she was seething with rage.

  ‘You bitch!’ she spat. ‘Ten years ago your kind wouldn’t have been allowed to talk to me like that.’

  ‘What did you say? What did you call me?’

  ‘You heard me.’

  ‘Because I’m black? Is that what you mean?’

  ‘You don’t talk to me like that,’ said Joan. She stubbed out her cigarette in the ashtray in the car door, fished another out of the packet and lit it. ‘No nigger talks to me like that.’

  ‘I’ll talk to you how I like. White trash!’ snapped Caroline. ‘Just be grateful I don’t lock you up for disrespecting a police officer.’

  ‘You should hear how Earl talks about you people. He hates you.’

  ‘You people?’

  ‘Yes, you people.’

  ‘Earl’s what?’ asked Erlendur, hastily intervening. ‘You were about to say something about your husband.’

  Joan shot Caroline a look of loathing before turning to Erlendur.

  ‘Earl won’t so much as look at me,’ she said, the pain breaking through her voice. ‘He never pays me any attention. There’s no love in him. No affection. I try my best but he’s always so cold, and we never have any time together. He’s always shooting off somewhere. Things’ve been like that for a long time and it sucks. It plays hell with your marriage.’

  Erlendur couldn’t help feeling a little sorry for her, though he had the impression that she had made this speech before. In Kristvin’s ear, perhaps.

  ‘So that makes it OK to play around with other men?’ said Caroline.

  ‘You shut your mouth! It’s not like that,’ said Joan, looking to Erlendur for understanding. ‘I’m not playing around.’

  ‘Just a minute,’ said Caroline. ‘Are you saying you don’t want to sleep with your husband’s buddies in the marines so you turn to locals like Kristvin instead? Icelandics who come to the Animal Locker for a good time?’

  Joan ignored her.

  ‘So your husband, Earl, wasn’t in the country the last time you saw Kristvin? Is that right?’ asked Erlendur, frowning at Caroline to get her to leave Joan alone.

  ‘No, he wasn’t. He’s still away. But I’m expecting him home soon.’

  ‘Can we get confirmation of that?’ Erlendur asked Caroline.

  ‘Oh, you can be sure I’ll remember to check up on that,’ said Caroline.

  ‘Kristvin drove round to see you in his car, didn’t he?’ said Erlendur. ‘The last time you met?’

  ‘Yes, he parked outside the next-door dorm and we were together for a couple hours. I guess he left my place around eleven.’

  ‘Was he going home after he left you?’

  ‘I think so, I don’t know. He didn’t mention any different.’

  ‘Were you aware that his tyres had been slashed?’

  ‘No. I knew nothing about that, so I guess it happened while he was with me,’ said Joan. ‘Listen, I have to get back to the PX. I nearly had a heart attack when you knocked on my door and started asking about Kris, and I was so upset when I heard –’

  ‘Oh, for Christ’s sake, don’t start claiming you loved him,’ said Caroline.

  ‘Shut your mouth!’ said Joan. ‘You shouldn’t go trampling all over other people’s feelings. You don’t know what I’m like. You know nothing about me.’

  ‘No, that’s for sure.’

  ‘Do you know how Kristvin went about getting hold of marijuana?’ said Erlendur.

  ‘No,’ said Joan.

  ‘Are you sure?’

  ‘I have no idea how he got it.’

  ‘Were you aware he used drugs?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘And of course you’ve never seen anything like that,’ said Caroline.

  ‘Shut up,’ said Joan. ‘I’m not talking to you.’

  ‘How did he get into this club, the Animal Locker?’ asked Erlendur, starting the car. He was keen to return Joan to work before a fight broke out in the back seat.

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Don’t Icelanders need someone from the base to vouch for them when they go to places like that? What’s it called …?’

  ‘You mean a sponsor?’

  ‘Yes. Who was his sponsor? The first time you met?’

  ‘I didn’t know him, I think he’d only just been transferred here,’ said Joan, sucking in smoke. ‘“W”, I think Kris said. That’s all I know. I think he just called him “W”.’

  ‘“W”? That’s all?’

  ‘Yeah. I have no idea how they knew each other. No idea. I never saw him. I think he’d left by the time … by the time Kris and me got acquainted.’

  ‘Did he tell you anything about this “W”?’

  ‘No,’ said Joan. ‘I don’t know who he is. No idea.’

  ‘Is he a soldier?’

  ‘I don’t know. There’s no point asking me. I know nothing about the guy.’

  ‘This club or bar, the Animal Locker – what kind of place is it?’

  ‘What kind? Well, the officers’ club’s the fanciest; that’s for the highest ranks. The Animal Locker’s about as different from that as you can get. It’s the enlisted club and there
’s a reason why they call it the Zoo. There’s a hell of a lot of trouble and fighting goes on there. They serve the liquor in plastic cups nowadays because glass got too dangerous. The Zoo’s that kind of club. Ask her,’ said Joan, pointing at Caroline. ‘She comes in sometimes.’

  27

  JOAN STEPPED OUT of the car next to the back entrance of the PX without saying goodbye, leaving Caroline and Erlendur sitting in her stale smoke. As she headed for the store she turned and gave them the finger, then flounced inside, slamming the door behind her. Erlendur assumed the gesture was aimed at Caroline, who now moved up to join him in the front seat. She seemed to think so too.

  ‘Screw you too, bitch,’ she said.

  ‘Was she wearing a wig?’ asked Erlendur, thinking of Kristvin’s sister.

  ‘Yeah, she looks like some kind of Dolly Parton freak.’

  ‘Do you think she could be ill?’

  ‘With that on her head? Must be.’

  ‘You should keep an eye on her,’ said Erlendur. ‘I doubt you can believe a word she says.’

  ‘Not a word,’ agreed Caroline, ‘and she’s probably the last person who saw your man alive. Apart from … I’ll check up on her husband, see if she was lying about him.’

  ‘We’re not going to arrest her, then?’

  ‘No, let’s leave her to sweat a little,’ said Caroline. ‘I’ll keep an eye on her. You’re right – she can’t be trusted. Who knows what to believe.’

  ‘So you sometimes go to this place, the Animal Locker, yourself?’

  ‘Now and then,’ said Caroline. ‘I’ve seen Joan there a couple times, coming on to the customers. She’s a slut.’

  ‘You don’t recall seeing Kristvin there?’

  Caroline shot Erlendur a look.

  ‘I’d have told you – you showed me a picture of him, remember?’

  ‘What about “W”?’

  ‘No,’ said Caroline crossly.

  ‘Marion told me you didn’t want to help us,’ said Erlendur.

  ‘That’s right.’

  ‘What made you change your mind?’

  ‘I don’t know. At first I thought Marion was asking me to spy on my friends, but when I stopped to think about it, I realised I was wrong. Anyhow, things are so quiet around here, it makes a nice change. And I had a hunch about that dumbass.’

  ‘Joan?’

  ‘I had an instinct that she was stressed and hiding something that time we visited her in the barracks. After Marion talked to me I remembered her and thought I’d pay her another visit, put the thumbscrews on her, and she just caved in. I don’t know if I was helping you exactly. I just wanted to find out if she was lying to us.’

  ‘Are you aware of other cases – of soldiers’ wives going after Icelandic men?’

  ‘Usually it’s the other way around,’ said Caroline. ‘Joan’s a bit of a surprise, in that respect.’

  ‘But not in other respects?’

  ‘No,’ said Caroline, laughing with a flash of white teeth. ‘The rest is exactly what you’d expect.’

  ‘If she’s telling the truth, Kristvin left her place that evening, found his car with the tyres slashed but didn’t go back to her. And then what …?’

  ‘I’m guessing he met somebody.’

  ‘By chance? Or was it planned? Where was he going? Was someone lying in wait for him when he left Joan’s? The same person who vandalised his tyres?’

  Caroline stared out of the window.

  ‘Could you track down this “W” for us?’ asked Erlendur. ‘Is there any way of finding out who he is?’

  ‘I can try. I never heard of anyone called “W” round here, but that doesn’t mean anything. It should be possible to look up the names of base personnel starting with that letter.’

  ‘I hope you won’t compromise yourself,’ said Erlendur, after a pause.

  ‘No, I should be OK. The guys stationed here are a peace-loving bunch, whatever you may think.’

  ‘I’ve never said they weren’t.’

  ‘Marion told me you were opposed to the army being here.’

  ‘That’s quite different. It’s nothing personal against the people themselves.’

  ‘Then I must have misunderstood,’ said Caroline. ‘You see, here I was thinking we were fighting a common enemy.’

  ‘Who’s that supposed to be?’

  ‘Oh, right, so you don’t regard the Russians as an enemy? And what about the fishing dispute a few years back? Wasn’t the sea around here swarming with British warships? Weren’t they the enemy? The way I understood it, the American government had to step in and persuade the British to back down. You people don’t even have your own army.’

  ‘That’s what I mean,’ said Erlendur.

  ‘Excuse me?’

  ‘In my opinion it would be better if we dealt with our own problems instead of sucking up to military powers like you Americans. That’s what I think.’

  ‘Then you need your own army.’

  ‘No, we don’t need an army. We’ve never needed an army. We’ll lose all our wars but at least we’ll lose them with honour.’

  ‘You’re weird,’ said Caroline. ‘With all due respect.’

  ‘You’re probably right,’ said Erlendur.

  ‘You think you’re better than us?’

  ‘Better? No – where did you get that idea?’

  ‘You people are no angels, you know,’ said Caroline. ‘You’re just as busy smuggling drugs onto the base as the soldiers are smuggling them off. You swap dope for beer, liquor and cigarettes. Even turkey and ham, for Christ’s sake! We’ve known about that for a long time.’

  ‘Yes, so have we. I’m not judging anybody.’

  ‘Are you sure you want me to help you?’

  ‘Of course. My personal attitude to the base doesn’t matter.’

  ‘Well, maybe it matters to me,’ said Caroline, and Erlendur realised he had made her angry. ‘Maybe I have something to say about that. I’m not sure I want to get in any deeper than I already have, and let me tell you I’ve totally had it with all this underhand shit. Totally had it! I don’t know why I let you talk me into this. I just can’t understand it.’

  Caroline opened the passenger door, stepped out onto the pavement, slammed the door so the whole car shook, and stormed off.

  Erlendur drove back to Reykjavík deep in thought, debating with himself whether it would be better at this stage to alert the base authorities to what the investigation had uncovered and request their assistance again. In retrospect, it was hardly fair to expect Caroline to bear the brunt of an inquiry by the Icelandic police. But then she had already made considerable progress and brought to light information that the Icelanders would no doubt have found it much harder, if not impossible, to obtain. She was a vital intermediary. Erlendur’s main concern was that they might put her at risk. He had no conception of what sort of danger she might face since he had no criteria by which to judge. He was completely in the dark about what went on behind the wire on Midnesheidi. All he knew was that most, if not all, of the personnel were armed, whereas Icelandic police officers like him were not even licensed to carry a gun.

  Turning on the radio news, he found himself instantly transported to a different, more familiar, world. Volunteers were still waiting to mount a search for the two missing men on the Eyvindarstadir Moors. A ferocious blizzard was raging in the area. There was an interview with an old farmer who knew the moors and he made no attempt to paint an optimistic picture. In severe conditions like these, he explained, the men’s only chance lay in seeking refuge in one of the shepherds’ huts that dotted the highlands.

  Erlendur switched off the radio and a familiar shiver ran down his spine as he thought of the two men fighting for their lives on the moors.

  28

  THE DOOR OPENED after a long interval and the man stared at Erlendur as if utterly unused to visitors. Erlendur had knocked three times, and was turning away when the door finally opened with a slight creak and the man appeared an
d regarded his visitor without speaking. The seconds ticked by until Erlendur could bear it no longer and broke the silence.

  ‘Are you Rasmus?’

  ‘Who … What do you want?’

  ‘I’m looking for information about an old neighbour of yours, a girl called Dagbjört.’

  The man continued to stare at him without saying a word. The house had no number on the door or name plate to say who lived there. There was a garage built onto it but no sign of a car. The small patch of garden at the front was as wild and untended as the section Erlendur had seen from the window of Dagbjört’s room. The air of neglect also extended to the two-storey building which clearly hadn’t seen any repairs for years. Rust streaked the wall from the iron railing of the upstairs balcony and there were further rust stains under the windows. Weeds sprouted from the blocked gutters. It was impossible to see inside the house because heavy curtains obscured all the grimy windows. Erlendur had discovered that there had once been two registered owners, a Danish woman called Margit Kruse, who had died about a quarter of a century ago, and her son, Rasmus. He was now the sole owner, and lived here alone, unmarried and childless, as far as Erlendur could ascertain.

  ‘Dagbjört?’ said the man at last, as if he dimly remembered the name and was trying to call it to mind.

  ‘Used to live next door to you,’ said Erlendur. ‘She went missing in 1953. You were living here then, weren’t you? In ’53?’

  The man didn’t answer and it occurred to Erlendur that he was probably figuring out how to get rid of this stranger with the least effort. Which wasn’t necessarily abnormal or suspicious behaviour. It was commonplace for recluses like Rasmus to want to be left alone. Erlendur had some sympathy with them.

  ‘Do you remember her?’ he asked.