The Darkness Knows
- Автор: Indridason Arnaldur
- Серия: Detective Konrad #1
- Год: 2021
- Язык: английский
- Год: Harvill Secker/Penguin Random House UK
- ISBN: 978-1-78730-232-7
- Переводчик: Victoria Cribb
- Жанр: Криминальные детективы
Электронная книга - «The Darkness Knows». Краткое содержание книги:
The case: impossible to solve. Until now.
A frozen body is discovered in the icy depths of Langjökull glacier, apparently that of a businessman who disappeared thirty years before. At the time, an extensive search and police investigation yielded no results-one of the missing man’s business associates was briefly held in custody, but there wasn’t enough evidence to charge him.
Now the associate is arrested again and Konrád, the retired policeman who originally investigated the disappearance, is called back to reopen the case that has weighed on his mind for decades.
When a woman approaches him with new information that she obtained from her deceased brother, progress can finally be made in solving this long-cold case.
‘Kill him.’
‘What did you say?’
‘“Kill him.” Those were the words she heard.’
‘Kill him?’
‘Yes, she heard him snarl them into the phone, and it gave her such a shock that it must have stayed in her subconscious. She’s never forgotten it.’
35
Three ladies of indeterminate age were sitting in the hairdresser’s salon, flicking through old lifestyle and gossip magazines as they awaited their turn. The hairdresser was busy attending to two other women. One was sitting in front of the mirror with strips of aluminium foil in her hair, reminiscing about having her hair set, while the other was having her hair washed. As soon as he entered, Konrád realised he couldn’t have chosen a worse time to visit. He was about to go into reverse when the hairdresser shouted: ‘Are you the cop?’
‘No, not any more,’ Konrád said, ‘but I used to be in the police. I was hoping to talk to... Are you Elísa?’
‘That’s me. Helga’s friend. Are you Konrád?’
He nodded.
‘She said you wanted to know about that man outside the bar.’
‘That’s right.’
‘In connection with a murder?’
‘No, er... there’s probably no connection,’ Konrád said.
‘With the murder?’
The three waiting ladies’ heads swung back and forth between them, as perfectly in time as seals in a water park. The woman with the strips of foil in her hair watched Konrád curiously in the mirror, while the customer whose hair Elísa was washing, frustrated by her inability to see him, was forced to stare up at the ceiling, her eyes on stalks.
‘Oh, look, this is obviously a bad moment,’ Konrád said. ‘It would probably be better if I came back later.’
‘What? Don’t be shy. I was just going to take a coffee break,’ Elísa said, jerking her head towards a little room at the back where he caught a glimpse of a coffee machine and a paper bag from a nearby bakery. ‘Take a seat in there and help yourself to coffee. I’ll be with you in a sec.’
At this, the other women all directed glares at Konrád, who responded with a friendly smile. He couldn’t tell if their annoyance was because he was going to add several minutes to their wait, or because his conversation with Elísa would take place behind closed doors and they wouldn’t get to hear any of the juicy details. He’d like to bet it was the latter. After all, none of them seemed to be in any particular hurry, having presumably planned to spend most of their day at the hairdresser’s anyway.
Konrád took a seat. The room was tiny, with just enough space for two kitchen chairs and a small table, on which there was a pot of freshly made coffee. A calendar featuring brooding male models hung on one wall. Through the open door, Konrád could hear Elísa talking to a young woman who apparently worked with her. She filled her in on what needed to be done, then announced that she was going for a break. After this, she joined Konrád in the little room, closing the door behind her.
‘Are you always this busy?’ Konrád asked, to break the ice.
‘Yes. They’re terribly loyal, bless ’em, and they love coming here — even if it’s just for a chat. There’s nothing they like better than a good gossip. Helga told me you wanted to hear about the man I mentioned to her. Was he a criminal or something?’
‘I don’t know,’ Konrád said. ‘I’m trying to work out what happened at the sports bar the evening you and your friends were there, so I was very interested when Helga told me what you overheard that man saying.’
‘Is it important?’ Elísa asked. ‘I mean, it was years ago.’
‘I want to track him down if I can.’
‘Did he do something wrong?’
‘I don’t know. I’m looking into it for a woman who—’
‘Is she related to the man who was hit by a car?’ Elísa interrupted. ‘The Villi who Helga mentioned?’
‘Yes, she’s his sister,’ Konrád said.
‘And you think the man I saw might have run him over?’
‘Did it never occur to you to connect what you heard him saying with what happened to Villi?’
‘No. It didn’t so much as cross my mind. Not for a second. I’m afraid I remember next to nothing about the Villi business.’
‘He was knocked down on Lindargata.’
‘Yes, so I hear. I vaguely remembered there had been some kind of accident when Helga told me about it but I never made the connection at the time. I have a clear memory of that evening, though, and that gross guy Helga knew who threw up in his glass.’
‘You heard two words...’
The door opened and the young woman who worked with Elísa interrupted to ask what she’d used on Dísa’s hair the last time she’d coloured it. Elísa was able to answer off the top of her head. Another woman, presumably Dísa, was now occupying the chair where the one with the foils had been sitting, and smiled sweetly at Konrád in the mirror. He could have sworn she winked at him.
‘You really need to come out front,’ the young woman said, giving Elísa a meaningful look. ‘Things are a bit crazy out here.’
‘OK, I’ll be right out,’ Elísa said.
The door closed again.
‘You heard two words,’ Konrád repeated.
‘“Kill him”,’ Elísa said, impatiently now, as if she shouldn’t be wasting so much time on Konrád. ‘I heard him say it as I was hurrying past him. “Kill him.”’
‘What did you think the context was?’
‘It sounded like he thought it was a mad idea.’
‘The man you saw?’
‘Yes, the man I heard talking on the phone. He spat out the words. It was like he was arguing with someone.’
‘Can you guess what the whole sentence might have been?’
‘I don’t know. Maybe: “I can’t just kill him.” Or: “We can’t just kill him.” It sounded like he was against the idea.’
‘Couldn’t it have been the opposite? “I could just kill him. We could just kill him?”’
‘Maybe. I suppose. He sounded kind of disgusted or angry, like he was arguing about it. Arguing with someone about what he should do.’
‘And the sentence ended with those words?’
‘Yes.’
‘Did he see you as he was saying this?’
‘No. I was past him when I heard him speaking and I looked round, but he had his back to me. I just hurried off. I don’t even know if he was aware of me. It was snowing so hard and he had his head turned to the wall. I couldn’t see his face. Wouldn’t recognise him if I saw him again.’
36
About ten days after his father was found murdered on Skúlagata, Konrád was called in for questioning. The detective who interviewed him was called Pálmi. He was leading the inquiry and had been the first member of CID to come round to Konrád’s house on that fateful evening. He had been calmly professional and treated Konrád with respect and consideration, unlike the two uniformed officers who had broken the news of his father’s murder to him with such unnecessary bluntness that they’d provoked Konrád into attacking them. It hadn’t helped that he’d been out drinking with his mates and arrived home considerably the worse for wear, to find the cops waiting for him outside the basement flat. The officers in question had both had run-ins with his father and hadn’t appeared sorry in the least that he’d been fatally stabbed.
Nearly two weeks later, Konrád was summoned to the police headquarters on Pósthússtræti, where the duty officer told him to wait in reception until he was called. After a while, growing increasingly fed up, Konrád asked if he would have to wait much longer. The duty officer told him to be patient.
Before coming there, Konrád had seen his mother off at the central bus station. Several days before the murder she had travelled across the country from Seydisfjördur to stay with her sister in Reykjavík. While there, she had told Konrád that she’d met a good man out east and that it was unlikely she would ever move back to the city. Beta was happy in the village — she’d made friends there — and his mother expressed the hope that he might join them in Seydisfjördur. Konrád had never been over to the East Fjords; never visited his mother. When he was younger, his father had forbidden him, and by the time he was old and tough enough to decide for himself, he had lost interest in going. His mother had made a number of trips to Reykjavík, though, especially in the first years after the divorce, and mother and son had at least met up, if briefly, though his father had sometimes insisted on being present.