Hypothermia Page 23

  ‘Have you and Baldvin been talking?’ he asked.

  ‘Of course. We find it funny. Are you seriously trying to suggest that we did something to María?’

  Again the question was posed as if the answer hardly mattered, as if Erlendur’s believing such a thing was too bizarre to be taken seriously.

  ‘Would it be absurd to think that?’

  ‘Ludicrous,’ Karólína confirmed.

  ‘There’s money at stake,’ Erlendur pointed out, his eyes wandering around the sitting room.

  ‘Are you seriously investigating this as a murder?’

  ‘Have you ever wondered about life after death?’ Erlendur asked, taking a seat.

  ‘No – why?’

  ‘María did,’ he said. ‘Almost all the time. You could say she didn’t think about anything else in the weeks before she died. She tried to find answers by going to mediums. Does that sound familiar at all?’

  ‘I know what a medium is,’ Karólína said.

  ‘We know about one she visited. His name’s Andersen. He gave her a recording to take home with her. We know about another medium she went to see, too; a woman I haven’t been able to trace yet. She’s called – or calls herself – Magdalena. Ring any bells?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘I’d quite like to meet her,’ Erlendur said.

  ‘I’ve never been to a medium in my life,’ Karólína said.

  Erlendur gave her a long look, wondering if he should disclose what he thought had happened instead of continuing to pussyfoot around the subject. He had a theory but couldn’t prove it. He had gone back and forth over the possibilities without reaching any conclusion. He knew it was time to take action, set the case in motion, but had been dithering because he had so little to go on, not much more than suspicions, based on frail foundations that would inevitably be easy to deny. There was a possibility that he might be able to dig up some evidence, given time, but he was fed up with the whole case and wanted to finish it so that he could turn to other things.

  ‘Have you ever played a medium?’ he asked.

  ‘You mean on stage? No, I haven’t,’ Karólína replied.

  ‘And you say that you don’t know a medium who goes by the name of Magdalena?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘The same name as the character you played on stage?’

  ‘No, I don’t know any Magdalena.’

  ‘I had my people check up on it,’ Erlendur said. ‘There is no medium with that name in the whole Reykjavík area.’

  ‘Why don’t you just say what you’re going to say?’

  Erlendur smiled.

  ‘Maybe I should.’

  ‘Please do.’

  ‘I’ll tell you what I think happened,’ Erlendur said. ‘I think you and Baldvin pushed María into suicide.’

  ‘Oh?’

  ‘She was in a terrible state after her mother died. María had watched Leonóra fighting the cancer for two years, watched her endure dreadful pain and suffering before the end. She started imagining all sorts of things and began looking for signs that her mother had intended to give her as proof that she was safe or that there was some kind of life after this one that might even be better than this vale of tears. It didn’t take much to push María over the edge. She was absolutely terrified of the dark – in fact, she was a bundle of nerves after her mother died, desperate for reassurance that Leonóra was feeling better in some better world. She might have been an academic but this was not a question of rationalism, rather it was one of deeply rooted faith and hope and love. She started imagining all kinds of things. Leonóra appeared to her at their house in Grafarvogur. María turned to psychics. I expect you had some part in that? In tipping her over the edge?’

  ‘What do you mean? Have you any proof?’

  ‘None,’ Erlendur said. ‘You both planned it well.’

  ‘Why on earth should we have done something like that?’

  ‘There’s a lot of money at stake. Baldvin is seriously in debt and is hardly the type to pay it off, despite the fact that as a doctor he’s on a decent salary. You two get rid of María and live in the lap of luxury for the rest of your lives. I know of murders that have been committed for much lower sums.’

  ‘You’re calling it murder?’

  ‘I don’t know what else to call it. When one thinks about it. Are you Magdalena?’

  Karólína gave Erlendur a long look, her expression very sober.

  ‘I think you should go now,’ she said finally.

  ‘Did you tell María something that might have triggered the events that ended in her suicide?’

  ‘I have nothing more to say.’

  ‘Did you play some part in María’s death?’

  Karólína was on her feet. She walked into the hall and opened the front door.

  ‘Get out,’ she said.

  Erlendur had also risen to his feet and followed her out.

  ‘Would you admit that you played even the tiniest role in what happened to María?’ he asked.

  ‘No,’ Karólína said. ‘She was unhappy. She committed suicide. Will you please leave now?’

  ‘Has Baldvin ever told you about an experiment that he performed when he was a medical student at university? He was involved in causing a young man to die and then bringing him back to life. Did you know about that?’

  ‘What are you talking about?’

  ‘I think it was the tipping point,’ Erlendur said.

  ‘What?’

  ‘Ask Baldvin. Ask him if he knows a man called Tryggvi. If he has any contact with him today. You ask him that.’

  ‘Will you get out now?’ Karólína said.

  Erlendur stood in the doorway, refusing to give up. Karólína was crimson in the face.

  ‘I think I know what happened at the holiday cottage,’ he said. ‘And it’s not a pretty story.’

  ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’

  Karólína pushed him out of the door but Erlendur still refused to give up.

  ‘Tell Baldvin I know about the defibrillator,’ he said as the door slammed shut.

  32

  Erlendur sat waiting in the dark, in a state of uncertainty.

  He had woken late that morning. Eva Lind had dropped by on the previous evening and they had talked about Valgerdur. He knew that Eva wasn’t very keen on her and that if she saw Valgerdur’s car parked in front of his block she would sometimes wait for Erlendur’s girlfriend to leave before knocking on his door.

  ‘Why can’t you just be nice to her?’ Erlendur asked his daughter. ‘She’s forever taking your side when we talk about you. You could be good friends if you’d only let yourself get to know her.’

  ‘I’m not interested,’ Eva Lind said. ‘I’m not interested in the women in your life.’

  ‘Women? There are no women. There’s Valgerdur and that’s it. There never have been any women.’

  ‘Relax,’ Eva Lind said. ‘Got any coffee?’

  ‘What do you want?’

  ‘Oh, you know, I was just bored.’

  Erlendur sat down in his chair. Eva Lind was lying on the sofa opposite him.

  ‘Are you planning to sleep here?’ Erlendur asked, looking at the clock. It was well past midnight.

  ‘I dunno,’ Eva Lind said. ‘Would you mind reading me the chapter about your brother again?’

  Erlendur looked at his daughter for a long time before getting up and going over to the bookcase. He took out the book containing the account and, taking his seat again, began to read about the incident and his father’s ineffectiveness and how he himself was described as gloomy and withdrawn and how he had searched for his brother’s remains. He glanced over at his daughter when he had finished reading. He thought she had fallen asleep. Putting down the book on a small table beside the sofa, he sat with his hands in his lap, thinking how angry his mother had been with the man who wrote the account. A long time passed, until Eva Lind eventually sighed.

  ‘You’ve been trying to keep hi
m alive ever since,’ she said.

  ‘I don’t know if . . .’

  ‘Isn’t it time to let him die?’

  Eva Lind opened her eyes and, turning her head, fixed her father with her stare.

  ‘Isn’t it time you let him die?’ she asked again.

  Erlendur still did not answer.

  ‘Why are you interfering in this?’ he asked at last.

  ‘Because you’re unhappy, probably even unhappier than me sometimes,’ Eva Lind answered.

  ‘I don’t know if it’s anything to do with you,’ Erlendur said. ‘It’s my business. I do what I have to.’

  ‘Then go out east or wherever it is you were born. Go out there and do what you have to do. Get rid of him and free yourself. You owe it to yourself after all these years. And him too. Let him die. You owe it to yourself and to him. You have to free yourself from him. You have to free yourself from this ghost.’

  ‘Why are you interfering in this?’ he repeated.

  ‘Says you who can never leave anyone alone.’

  They were both silent for a while until Eva Lind asked if she could sleep on the sofa since she couldn’t be bothered to go home.

  ‘Be my guest,’ Erlendur said. ‘Sleep here.’

  He stood up to get ready for bed.

  ‘If I ever needed to, I did it ages ago,’ Eva Lind said, turning her face into the corner of the sofa.

  ‘Needed to what?’

  ‘Forgive you,’ she said.

  Erlendur was startled out of his reverie by the sound of a car stopping in the drive. A door opened and he heard footsteps on the gravel outside, coming in the direction of the boat shed. Daylight shone in through two little windows, one on each side, illuminating the dust motes in the air. Outside he could see the sunlight gleaming on Lake Thingvallavatn, which was as smooth as a mirror in the still autumn weather. The door opened and Baldvin stepped inside, closing it behind him. There was a slight pause before the light came on overhead. Baldvin didn’t notice him at first and Erlendur saw him search for something, then bend down and straighten up again with the defibrillator in his arms.

  ‘I thought maybe you weren’t coming,’ Erlendur said, rising from the corner where he had been sitting, and stepping into the light.

  Baldvin started, almost dropping the machine.

  ‘Christ, you startled me,’ he gasped, before regaining his composure and trying to put on a show of anger and outrage. ‘What . . .? What’s this supposed to mean? What are you doing here?’

  ‘Isn’t it rather a question of what you’re doing here?’ Erlendur asked levelly.

  ‘I . . . This is my holiday home . . . What do you mean, what am I doing here? It’s none of your business. Won’t you . . . Why are you following me?’

  ‘I’d begun to think that you weren’t coming,’ Erlendur said. ‘But you couldn’t stand it any longer and were going to dispose of the defibrillator in a safe place. Your conscience was starting to plague you. Perhaps you’re no longer as confident of getting away with it as you were.’

  ‘I haven’t a clue what you’re talking about. Why won’t you leave me alone?’

  ‘It’s because of María; she’s haunting me like an old ghost story. There are a number of things concerning her I want to talk to you about, various questions that I know she herself would have wanted to ask you.’

  ‘What bullshit is this? Did you break the lock on the door?’

  ‘I did that the other day,’ Erlendur admitted, ‘when I was trying to fill in the gaps.’

  ‘What rubbish is this?’ Baldvin asked again.

  ‘I was hoping you’d tell me.’

  ‘I’m here to tidy up the boathouse,’ Baldvin said.

  ‘Yes, of course. And there’s another thing. Why were you using water from the lake in your hot tub?’

  ‘What?’

  ‘I took a sample from your hot tub, from the waste pipe. The water supply to the cottage and hot tub comes from the wells up the hill. It’s heated by electricity inside the cottage and then pumped into the system. So why should there be fine silt from Lake Thingvallavatn in the waste pipe of your hot tub?’

  ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about,’ Baldvin said. ‘We sometimes . . . we used to take a dip in the lake in summer and get in the hot tub afterwards.’

  ‘Yes, but I’m talking about a much larger volume of water. I think the tub was filled with lake water,’ Erlendur said.

  Still holding the defibrillator, Baldvin backed out of the boathouse, obviously with the intention of putting the machine in the back of his car. Erlendur followed him and removed the machine from his grasp. Baldvin did not put up any resistance.

  ‘I spoke to a doctor,’ Erlendur said. ‘I asked him how someone would go about causing heart failure without anyone noticing. He said you’d need determination and a large amount of cold water. You’re a doctor. Do you agree?’

  Baldvin stood by the boot of his car without answering.

  ‘Wasn’t that the method you used on Tryggvi in the old days?’ Erlendur said. ‘You couldn’t use any drugs on María. Couldn’t risk any trace being found, could you? In case they did a postmortem. The only thing you could use was a tiny dose of sleeping pills to dull the cold.’

  Baldvin slammed the boot of the car.

  ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about,’ he repeated furiously. ‘And I don’t think you do either. María hanged herself. She didn’t sleep in the hot tub if that’s what you’re imagining. You should be ashamed of yourself !’

  ‘I know she hanged herself,’ Erlendur said. ‘I want to know exactly why. And just how you and Karólína persuaded her into it.’

  Baldvin seemed to be ready to drive away rather than have to listen to Erlendur any longer. Going round to the driver’s door, he opened it and was about to get into the car when he paused and turned to face Erlendur.

  ‘I’m tired of this,’ he said roughly, slamming the door. ‘Tired of this bloody persecution. What do you want?’

  He walked towards Erlendur.

  ‘It was Tryggvi who gave you the idea, wasn’t it?’ Erlendur said calmly. ‘What I want to know is how you two persuaded María to enter into it.’

  Livid with rage, Baldvin glared at Erlendur who stared back.

  ‘ “You two”?’ Baldvin said. ‘What do you mean, “you two”?’

  ‘You and Karólína.’

  ‘Are you out of your mind?’

  ‘Why should you suddenly be concerned about the defibrillator now?’ Erlendur asked. ‘It’s been sitting here untouched ever since María died. Why is it so important to spirit it away now?’

  Baldvin did not answer.

  ‘Is it because I mentioned it to Karólína? Did you get scared? Did it occur to you that you’d better dispose of it?’

  Baldvin continued to stare at him without saying a word.

  ‘Why don’t we go and sit down in the cottage for a moment?’ Erlendur suggested. ‘Before I call for back-up.’

  ‘What proof do you have?’ Baldvin asked.

  ‘All I have is a nasty suspicion. I would really like to have it confirmed.’

  ‘And what then?’

  ‘What then? I don’t know. Do you?’

  Baldvin was silent.

  ‘I don’t know if it’s possible to prosecute people for assisting suicide or deliberately pushing someone into taking their own life,’ Erlendur said. ‘Which is what you and Karólína did. Systematically and without hesitation. The money probably came into it. It’s a lot of cash and you’re in dire straits financially. And then there’s Karólína, of course. You’d get everything you wanted if only María would hurry up and die.’

  ‘What kind of talk is that?’

  ‘It’s a hard world.’

  ‘You can’t prove anything,’ Baldvin said. ‘It’s rubbish!’

  ‘Tell me what happened. When did it start?’

  Baldvin still vacillated.

  ‘Actually, I think I know more or less what happened,’
Erlendur said. ‘If it wasn’t the way I think, then we can discuss that. But you’ll have to talk to me. I’m afraid there’s no alternative.’

  Baldvin stood silent and unmoving.

  ‘When did it start?’ Erlendur repeated, taking out his mobile phone. ‘Either tell me now or else this place will be crawling with police officers before you know it.’

  ‘María said she wanted to cross over,’ Baldvin said in a low voice.

  ‘Cross over?’

  ‘After Leonóra died,’ Baldvin explained. ‘María wanted to cross over the great divide to where she thought she could reach her mother. She asked me to help her. That was all.’

  ‘The great divide?’

  ‘Do I have to spell it out?’

  ‘And what?’

  ‘Come inside,’ Baldvin said. ‘I’ll tell you about María if you’ll leave us in peace afterwards.’

  ‘Were you at the cottage when she died?’

  ‘Relax,’ Baldvin said. ‘I’ll tell you how it was. It’s time you heard. I’m not going to try to deny any responsibility. We weren’t honest with her but I didn’t kill her. I could never have done that. Never. You have to believe that.’

  33

  They entered the cottage and sat down in the kitchen. It was cold inside. Baldvin didn’t bother to turn up the radiators; he wasn’t intending to spin this out. He began to tell his story, methodically, point by point, in a clear voice, describing how he met María at university, their cohabitation with Leonóra in Grafarvogur and the last two years of María’s life following the death of her mother. Erlendur thought the story sounded a little rehearsed at times but in other respects Baldvin’s account seemed both plausible and consistent.

  Baldvin’s affair with Karólína had been going on for several years. They had briefly gone out together when they’d been at drama school but their relationship had come to nothing. Baldvin married María, Karólína lived either with boyfriends or alone. Her longest relationship lasted four years. Then she and Baldvin met again and revived their old association that María had never known about. They met in secret, not regularly but never less than once a month. Neither wanted to take the affair any further until, shortly before Leonóra was diagnosed with cancer, Karólína began to say that maybe Baldvin should leave María so that they could live together. He wasn’t averse to the idea. Living with his mother-in-law had put a strain on his marriage. Increasingly he had started to point out to María that he had not married her mother and nor did he wish to.