Oblivion (24 page)

Erlendur was disconcerted. Never, to his knowledge, had he been described as an old bloke before; he was only thirty-three. He watched the boy’s retreating figure, wondering if that was how he looked to him. When he turned back, Rósanna had come to the door. She was quite short, looked careworn, and was regarding Erlendur with an enquiring expression.

‘I expected you to be older,’ she said.

‘Ah, is that … was that your son?’

‘Is there someone else with you?’

‘What? No, I’m alone.’

He saw that she was trying to suppress a smile. She invited him in, apologising for the mess. She’d been working late and had had no time for housework all week. ‘The kids don’t lift a finger,’ she added. Erlendur said he quite understood and they chatted for a while, mostly about her friends at the Women’s College and what had become of them. This led her to talk about herself and what she had been up to in the intervening years. She was not in the least shy, took a matter-of-fact view of her circumstances and had not an ounce of self-pity. She ran a small shop near the top of Skólavördustígur which stocked a variety of health foods, though she said that business was slow. The Icelanders were only interested in red meat and stodgy sauces but she had taken a gamble on health food being the future. Erlendur admitted that he ate little but fatty meat in gravy and fermented fish with melted dripping, but pretended to be interested in improving his diet. This provoked another smile.

‘People are more interested in their health than they used to be,’ Rósanna said optimistically. She hadn’t gone on to higher education after leaving school but had met a man and got married instead. Her husband had set up a small company and she’d worked for him until their children were born and she became more involved in running their home. But over time the company had started losing money and they’d ended up badly in debt. Then her husband had fallen ill. It transpired that he had pancreatic cancer and he died within the year. She had sold the company, their house and two cars, which left her largely debt-free, and moved into this basement flat with her children.

‘I wasn’t the one who knew Dagbjört best,’ she said, thinking back, ‘but of course I remember what a shock it was for us girls in her class when it happened. We couldn’t believe it. We thought she must have gone off somewhere without telling anyone and that she’d turn up at school next day and it would all have been a misunderstanding. Of course that didn’t happen. I was a bit taken aback when Silja rang and then you.’

‘There are no new developments,’ said Erlendur. ‘I don’t know if Silja explained but Dagbjört’s aunt wants to know if it’s possible to draw any conclusions, although it was a long time ago, and I agreed to look into it. It’s a last-ditch attempt, I suppose.’

‘It must have been devastating for the family. We were all given the third degree by the police at the time. But I don’t know if I can add anything, and I really don’t see what it’s got to do with my cousin.’

‘It’s just one among a number of details that have cropped up,’ said Erlendur, trying to reassure the woman. ‘At the time it was rumoured that Dagbjört had a boyfriend. Were you aware of that?’

‘You mean the boy from Camp Knox? Wasn’t that just idle gossip?’

‘Maybe.’

‘I remember people talking about it but I can’t tell you if it was true or not. We weren’t that into boys at the time. One or two of the girls may have been in relationships – I really can’t remember.’

‘What about Camp Knox? Did she ever talk about it?’

‘She may have done but if so I’ve forgotten. I lived on the opposite side of town and didn’t know the west end. Though of course I knew about life in the camps. It certainly wasn’t easy. One of my mother’s sisters lived in Múli Camp.’

‘I gather your old class still keeps in touch,’ said Erlendur.

‘Yes, we do. We have a reunion at least once a year and I know it’s probably a bit morbid but we always raise a toast to Dagbjört. She’s never far from our thoughts. Then we play popular hits from the time. Dean Martin and so on.’

‘Doris Day?’

‘Yes, and Doris Day,’ said Rósanna, smiling.

‘I know it’s a long time ago, but did you ever hear Dagbjört mention her next-door neighbours?’

‘No, not that I recall.’

‘The thing is, I spoke to one of them the other day and he told me he’d bumped into Dagbjört shortly before she went missing and that she’d been talking about wanting some new records from America. She mentioned your cousin. Said he worked out on the air-force base and supplied you with the latest hits, Doris Day and so on. You were going to bring some to her birthday party. Does that jog your memory? Do you know if Dagbjört ever got in touch with your cousin?’

Rósanna listened intently, trying to cast her mind back to what had been said and done in the lead-up to the tragic event.

‘Wouldn’t she have had to go through you?’ asked Erlendur. ‘If she wanted to contact your cousin?’

‘I only have one cousin who worked on the base,’ said Rósanna thoughtfully. ‘Our fathers are brothers. He’s about ten years older than me. His name’s Mensalder. I’m trying to think if Dagbjört ever asked me about him or if I gave her his phone number. My mind’s a blank. At least I wasn’t aware that they ever met or spoke to each other. Mensalder lived out at Keflavík and worked for the army; he was always bringing home stuff he bought there or picked up for free. Cigarettes, turkey, steak, jeans. They were real luxuries in those days because you couldn’t get them for love or money in Reykjavík. It was a way for him to earn a bit on the side. But he mostly gave us things or my dad paid a token amount. Mensalder always had dollars and the latest records and I clearly remember borrowing three or four from him for Dagbjört’s party. It’s quite possible I gave her his number. Or perhaps she got it from someone else. But I never heard if she rang him.’

‘So you didn’t act as go-between?’

‘No. I didn’t order anything for her, if that’s what you mean. But … it was … hang on a minute …’

‘What?’

‘I do believe he took them round himself.’

‘The records?’

‘No, he picked them up from hers the next day. That was it. I remember now. He lent me the records and wanted them straight back because he’d already sold them to somebody else, but I forgot them at Dagbjört’s house and didn’t have time to fetch them, so I told him where she lived and he was going to drop round for them. That was it, if I’m not mistaken. He was in a bit of a hurry.’

‘So they would have met?’

‘Yes, of course.’

‘And it’s possible she asked him if he could get her some stuff from the base?’

‘Yes, but wait a minute, surely there’s nothing suspicious about that? It’s got nothing to do with … with what happened to Dagbjört?’

‘What does he do now? This Mensalder?’

‘Last I heard he was working at a petrol station,’ said Rósanna.

‘Here in Reykjavík?’

‘Yes.’

‘Is he married? Any children?’

‘No, no wife, no children,’ said Rósanna, and Erlendur saw it gradually dawning on her, the real reason he was here in her flat this evening, a complete stranger, asking questions about Dagbjört. ‘Mensalder’s always lived alone,’ she said hesitantly. ‘Why are you dragging him into this? What’s he done?’

Erlendur didn’t know how to answer.

‘I don’t believe … no, Mensalder’s totally harmless. He could never have … are you implying he’s linked to Dagbjört’s disappearance? Is that what you’re insinuating?’

‘I have absolutely no idea,’ said Erlendur, observing Rósanna’s dismay. ‘Honestly, I don’t know.’

MARION DREW UP
in front of the Andrews Movie Theater. The car park was quite busy.
Apocalypse Now
, the film currently showing, appeared to be very popular. The area was poorly lit and Marion switched off the ignition on the side furthest from the cinema and was just wondering how best to conduct an unobtrusive search for Caroline inside the building when the rear door of the car was torn open and Caroline herself climbed in. Marion jerked round.

‘Why didn’t you call to say you were coming?’ Caroline asked, nervously scanning their surroundings. ‘Are you being followed?’

‘Followed …?’

‘Well?’

‘Not that I’ve noticed,’ said Marion, starting the car and preparing to reverse out of the space.

‘No, stay here,’ said Caroline. ‘We’re OK here in the parking lot.’

‘We rang the number you gave us and thought you were trying to trick us when the cinema answered,’ said Marion.

‘Trick you? Why did you come here if you thought I was trying to trick you?’

‘Because then I heard about Bill,’ said Marion, switching off the engine again.

‘Who from?’

‘I bumped into a friend of yours, Martinez. A very friendly guy, I must say.’

‘Carlos Martinez?’

‘Yes,’ said Marion. ‘He was at the Animal Locker. I thought he’d never stop talking about himself.’

‘Bill works here at the movie theatre. He’s a friend. He let me use the office after he went home. I’ve been making calls all day.’

‘Are you all right?’

‘Yes, I’m OK, though all this secrecy’s making me jumpy. Did you go round to my apartment? I haven’t been back there yet.’

‘Yes, I did.’

‘Was the dorm being watched? That you noticed?’

‘I didn’t see anyone,’ said Marion. ‘But it’s possible. This is all rather new to me.’

‘Yeah, yeah, Erlendur’s already given me the speech about how you guys are clueless when it comes to this place, how it’s a whole new world to you and all that bullshit. I wondered what the hell he was talking about.’

‘I met your neighbour. He mentioned the Animal Locker, and Erlendur had already told me you sometimes went there. Do you realise you missed a practice?’

Marion caught the flash of Caroline’s grin in the mirror.

‘Tell me about Martinez.’

‘I don’t know him that well,’ said Caroline. ‘He’s a sergeant in the marines. We go bowling together. He’s OK. Quite a hotshot at bowling too.’

‘I asked him about Kristvin and if he was acquainted with a man called Wilbur Cain.’

‘What did he say about Cain?’

‘He didn’t recognise the name.’

‘I heard earlier that Cain spent a lot of time in Greenland before he came here,’ said Caroline. ‘He still goes there on regular assignments. And NCT planes stop there fairly frequently too, en route from Europe to points west. They land here at Keflavík to refuel and sometimes take on cargo, and every now and then Cain joins them to travel to Greenland and back.’

‘What’s in Greenland?’

‘Thule,’ said Caroline. ‘Our biggest military installation in the northern hemisphere.’

‘Where did you learn this?’

‘Here and there. My buddy in Washington. Also a woman I know quite well who works for air traffic control here on the base. I helped her out once. Her husband used to knock her around. She left him and they’re getting a divorce now but the jackass couldn’t leave her alone whenever he had a drink inside him. He wasn’t a bad person apart from that. Just a loser, like so many of those guys. Anyhow, I pulled a few strings to get him transferred so she could get rid of him. All without his knowledge. The first he knew about it was when he landed in his new station. And guess where that was?’

‘Thule?’

‘You got it. She called him for me. He works in air traffic control too and she got the lowdown from him about NCT at that end, who travels with the planes, and so on. He always used to come crawling back to her after he’d hit her, so he’ll do anything for her now.’

‘What’s going on in Greenland? Why should a Military Intelligence agent be travelling back and forth between Keflavík and Thule?’

‘I still haven’t been able to dig up any information on that.’

‘Do you think Kristvin might have known?’

‘I don’t see how,’ said Caroline. ‘These are covert flights. Your air traffic control is unaware of them. He’d have had to speak to someone who was well informed about these matters and, what’s more, was prepared to talk about them.’

‘Like who?’

‘I have no idea. The aircraft generally stop very briefly here and don’t attract any special attention.’

‘But then one develops a fault,’ said Marion, ‘and they have to call in the mechanics. And one of them sees enough to make him curious and starts asking questions and before you know it he’s dead. We’ve established that he almost certainly died as the result of the impact from a big drop. And we’re told there are some very high work platforms in Hangar 885. Kristvin could have climbed up them and fallen off.’

‘Been pushed off, you mean?’

‘We’ve been denied access to the hangar, in addition to everything else. Chances are he took refuge in there while trying to escape, fled up the scaffolding and was trapped there. What do you know about the airbase at Thule?’

All was quiet in the car park. The Andrews cinema was a splash of neon in the winter darkness. It was named, Marion knew, after an American general who had died in a plane crash near Keflavík during the war. Posters advertising the latest Hollywood films hung either side of the entrance:
Kramer vs. Kramer
,
Alien
,
The China Syndrome
.

‘Not much,’ said Caroline. ‘It’s strategically important as part of the defensive line against the Russians in the northern hemisphere. From there it’s possible to enter Soviet airspace via Siberia where there are far fewer defences than if we fly from our bases in Western Europe over the heavily fortified areas of Eastern Europe and Russia. Thule’s vital in that context. Even more significant than this little installation here.’

‘Talking of hardship posts,’ said Marion. ‘Iceland must seem like a tropical paradise compared to Thule.’

‘You bet.’

‘The Danes are about as happy with the base at Thule as we are about our “little installation”,’ said Marion, and went on to explain that there had been a major debate in Denmark in recent years about the fate of the Inuit in the vicinity of Thule. When the base was built, the Greenlandic hunting settlement was uprooted and moved north to a place called Qaanaaq, without reference to their wishes, with unforeseen consequences.