Oblivion (29 page)

‘Why are you asking me? Why don’t you ask him?’

‘Oh, I intend to,’ said Caroline, ‘but first I want to hear it from you.’

‘I can’t talk to you.’

‘Why not? What are you afraid of?’

Without warning Joan leapt to her feet, as if to rush out of the flat and escape all this, but Caroline was too quick and caught her before she could reach the door. Joan tore herself loose and Caroline grabbed hold of her again, trying to restrain her. Joan struggled, screaming at her to leave her alone, trying to twist out of her arms. Marion, watching the scuffle, saw that Caroline suddenly had Joan’s wig in her hands. It had come off in the fracas, and when Joan realised, she ceased her flailing about, clasped her hands over her shaven head and collapsed weeping to the floor in the corner by the door. Her scalp was covered in plasters and bandages which Marion initially took to be fastenings for the wig but then realised were stained with blood.

‘What’s this?’ asked Caroline, stunned, as she stood with Joan’s hair in her hands, gaping at her head. ‘What …? What … what in hell happened to you?’

‘Don’t look at me,’ whimpered Joan and snatched the wig back from her. ‘Leave me alone. Go away and leave me alone … don’t look at me …’

Caroline caught Marion’s eye, then knelt down beside Joan on the floor and put her arms round her.

‘What happened?’ she asked gently. ‘Was it Earl? What did he do to you?’

‘Isn’t it hideous?’

‘It’s …’ Caroline didn’t know what to say.

‘It was … he used one of his horrible hunting knives. Isn’t it … isn’t it hideous?’ said Joan, weeping from a combination of anguish, fury and humiliation. ‘Then he took his razor to me and … I couldn’t do anything, he’s so strong, so terribly strong … and he threatened me … threatened to … threatened to kill me …’

The dressings on her head formed an irregular pattern and Marion and Caroline stared at them uncomprehendingly until Joan began to tear them off, revealing the letter ‘K’ gouged into her scalp with a sharp knife, from her forehead to the nape of her neck.

‘“K”?’ said Caroline. ‘Is that …?’

‘Kris. Earl went for me when he came home from the Animal Locker one evening. He’d heard … heard about me and Kris. He went crazy.’

‘How did he hear about you and Kris?’ asked Caroline.

Joan didn’t answer. She sat, her eyes lowered, her shoulders shaking with sobs. Caroline let her be for the moment. Marion held out a handkerchief and Joan took it gratefully. All resistance was at an end and she sat there on the floor, frightened and vulnerable, sniffing into the hanky.

How did Earl find out about your affair?’ asked Caroline again.

‘Somebody must … must have told him,’ whispered Joan. ‘I don’t know. We tried to be careful. Somebody at the Animal Locker. All of a sudden he knew and …’

‘And what?’

‘He couldn’t stand it,’ said Joan. ‘He threatened to kill me, and I know he’s capable of it, the fucking sadist. He threatened to kill me if I went to the police after he … after he cut me. Like he’s any better, screwing around over there in … in Greenland.’

Joan raised tear-filled eyes to Caroline’s face.

‘He couldn’t stand that it was an Icelandic,’ she said. ‘I reckon that was the worst part for him. To be cuckolded by an Icelandic. He couldn’t give a shit about the money – Kris owed him for the grass. Earl was pissed about it but that was all. Though when he heard we were …’

‘Yes?’

‘He swore he was going to kill him. God, I can’t …’

Joan started crying again and Caroline waited patiently for her to recover.

‘What happened?’ she asked eventually.

‘I don’t want … it wasn’t my fault how …’

‘How what?’

‘Earl made … Earl made me call him and invite him over. He stood over me with the knife. God, I … I didn’t dare not to. I tried to warn Kris when he came here and he left almost at once but they were waiting for him –’

Joan broke off.

‘I don’t know why I’m protecting Earl. I don’t know why I should. The fucking jerk.’

‘Did he attack Kris? He and his friends?’

‘I don’t know … I don’t know how he found out,’ said Joan, weeping silently. Then suddenly she seemed to wake out of her daze and stared at Caroline in terror.

‘You can’t tell him I told you this!’

‘It’ll –’

‘You can’t! No way! He’ll kill me. He … Look what he did to me.’

‘It’ll be OK,’ said Caroline, hugging her tight. ‘It’ll be OK.’

‘Earl says it’s all my fault,’ said Joan, wringing the blonde wig in her hands as if it were her only fixed point in life. ‘He keeps saying that. He made me call Kris … said he just wanted to talk to him. Said he wasn’t going to hurt him. He promised. He promised me. I regret it so much but what was I … what was I supposed to do? I didn’t know what Earl was planning. He wasn’t here when Kris arrived. I thought he was planning to be here but he didn’t show up. I told Kris to go right on home, that Earl was after him. I told you he was with me for two hours – that wasn’t how it was at all. He left at once. I told him it was over between us and that he might be in danger … the poor boy ran out and … by then they’d slashed his tyres …’

CAROLINE AND JOAN
walked out of the building ahead of Marion, intending to go to the squad car that Caroline had parked a little way off, when they saw three men coming towards them.

‘Who’s this?’ whispered Marion, stopping behind the two women.

‘Christ knows,’ said Caroline with a groan, looking for an escape route between the barracks buildings, but immediately giving it up as a bad idea. ‘I’ve never seen them before.’

‘What’s happening?’ asked Joan, petrified.

The men were wearing air-force uniforms and from his insignia Marion guessed the leader was some sort of officer. He was short and powerfully built, with a crew cut and a stern expression. The other two looked equally stern but stayed in the background; Marion assumed these two were ordinary airmen. All three were armed with revolvers at their belts. The airmen were also carrying automatic rifles.

‘May I ask what you were doing in the barracks?’ said the officer.

Caroline bit back her initial impulse to ask what business it was of his. Instead she gave her name and rank. She also explained who Marion and Joan were, and said that the military police were helping Icelandic CID with their inquiry into a death on the base.

‘We had a meeting with a witness, Joan here,’ said Marion, ‘who we fear may be at risk. She knows who was responsible and –’

‘Joan has to file charges for aggravated domestic assault,’ chipped in Caroline. ‘I’m taking her to the hospital. She needs medical attention.’

‘Are you conducting this inquiry with full authorisation from Fleet Air Command, Sergeant?’ asked the officer, his face still expressionless.

‘There hasn’t been time for permission to come through yet,’ said Caroline. ‘May I ask who you are?’

‘Master Sergeant Roberts,’ said the officer. ‘Do you have the required authorisation to interview base personnel?’ he asked them again, glancing at Joan.

‘No, like I said, it hasn’t come through yet, sir,’ said Caroline. ‘What’s your unit, if I may –?’

‘I’m with 57th Fighter Squadron,’ said Roberts, and stepped up to Marion. ‘You’re from the Icelandic police?’

‘Yes.’

‘If I’m correctly informed, your request to conduct an inquiry on the base was refused, so authorisation is not in the pipeline, as your lady friend here seems to think. That’s bullshit. What are you two playing at?’

‘Playing at?’ said Marion.

‘Yes, Detective. What are you playing at?’

‘We tried to get the Defense Force to work with us,’ said Marion. ‘But you people refused all cooperation.’

‘Would you follow me, please?’ said Roberts. ‘I’ll have to ask you to surrender your weapon, Sergeant,’ he added to Caroline, then turned back to Marion. ‘I gather the Icelandic police don’t carry firearms.’

Caroline looked at Marion, who shrugged.

‘What about Joan?’ said Caroline. ‘She needs to see a doctor. She also needs protection from her husband. I can’t leave her.’

‘You have no say in the matter, Sergeant. My men will escort her to the hospital,’ said Roberts, indicating the two airmen accompanying him. ‘They’ll protect her.’

‘Protect her?’

‘Yes. You can rely on us.’

‘I want to go with her, sir,’ insisted Caroline. ‘To see everything’s OK.’

‘You’re coming with me, Sergeant,’ said Roberts. ‘You have no choice. She’ll be fine. She has no reason to be afraid.’

‘Where are you taking us?’ asked Caroline. ‘I don’t see why we need to go anywhere at all with you.’

‘You’re coming with me, Sergeant,’ repeated the officer, holding out his hand for Caroline’s gun.

She hesitated.

‘Your weapon!’ ordered Roberts.

Caroline made eye contact with Marion, who nodded. She took the pistol out of its holster and handed it over. Then she turned to Joan and told her to go with the men to the hospital. Joan protested but Caroline assured her she would be safe. The men escorted Joan to a military jeep parked a stone’s throw from the barracks, and Caroline walked along with her, reassuring her, telling her everything would be all right, nothing would happen to her and they would see each other again very soon.

‘There’s nothing we can do,’ said Caroline. ‘We simply have to trust these men.’

‘What’ll happen to you?’ asked Joan.

‘I’ll be OK,’ said Caroline. ‘I’ll see you later. I promise.’

She watched the jeep drive off down the street.

‘Follow me,’ ordered Roberts, leading the way to another jeep.

‘Where are you taking us, sir?’ asked Caroline as they headed in a westerly direction towards the airport runways.

‘You’ll see,’ replied Roberts.

‘If anything happens to Joan –’

‘Nothing’s going to happen to her. What do you think we are?’

‘How did you know where we were?’

‘It wasn’t hard to track you down. This isn’t a big area.’

‘Were you watching Joan’s apartment?’

Roberts didn’t answer.

‘Why? Because of Earl Jones?’

Still no response.

‘Do you know what happened in the hangar?’

‘You’d better be quiet, Sergeant.’

Caroline lost her temper. ‘Maybe you were with Jones?’

Roberts turned to her. ‘Do you think it was right to go behind the backs of your colleagues and friends in the military? To collaborate with these people’ – he jerked his head at Marion – ‘without reporting the fact? Doesn’t your part in all this seem rather irregular? What is it you want, Sergeant? You can hardly expect to continue your career in the military. In fact, you can forget all about that. And I advise you to keep your mouth shut from now on.’

Seeing that Caroline was poised to fly off the handle, Marion unobtrusively grabbed her hand, silently warning her to let it drop; there was no point quarrelling with this man. Hurt and angry, Caroline kept her eyes on the road ahead.

‘Where are you taking us?’ It was Marion’s turn to ask.

‘Here,’ said Roberts.

In front of them were two hangars currently under construction for the accommodation of F-16 fighters. They consisted of steel-frame skeletons with walls, roof and vast doors attached, but as yet no fittings, insulation or equipment inside. Roberts parked by one of the hangars and Marion and Caroline climbed out. He ordered them to follow him. Two guards were standing there, armed with rifles. Roberts opened a door in the side wall, ushered Marion and Caroline through, then closed the door behind them, remaining outside himself.

Inside it was cold and bare. Two powerful lamps hanging from the ceiling cast a harsh glare into every corner of the empty building. In the middle stood a tall, lean man, aged about fifty, dressed in khaki trousers and shirt, with a square jaw and a thick, greying crew cut. He had the air of a man who let little disturb his composure, and regarded them with small, weary eyes, as if he had far more pressing and important business to deal with. He neither greeted them nor introduced himself but came straight to the point.

‘What were you two doing in Hangar 885?’

‘Who are you?’ retorted Caroline, as she had to Roberts earlier.

‘I am in charge of security on the base.’

‘Are you in Military Intelligence?’

‘I repeat: what were you doing in Hangar 885?’

‘As a military police officer I can go where I like,’ said Caroline. ‘What do you mean by bringing us here? Who are you? And who’s Master Sergeant Roberts?’

‘A delegation will be sent to the base to look for me if I don’t report back soon,’ said Marion, which was not a complete lie. ‘I’m a detective with the Icelandic Criminal Investigation Department. My colleagues are aware I had business in the hangar. I don’t know if you’re Wilbur Cain or if you’re working for him, but the Icelandic police have his name. We gather he was acquainted with an Icelander called Kristvin. They were spotted together at a bar here called the Animal Locker, also known as the Zoo. We have reason to believe that Kristvin was pushed off the scaffolding in Hangar 885. And we are now reasonably confident that a marine called Earl Jones was involved, so we would request that you deliver him into our custody. Caroline has been assisting us. That seems to be public knowledge now. We owe her a great debt of gratitude. If anything were to happen to the two of us – if our bodies were found smashed up in the lava field outside the base, for example – you should be aware that the information about Kristvin, Wilbur Cain, Earl Jones and Hangar 885 is on record.’

‘Why are you telling me this?’ asked the man.

‘I thought you ought to know,’ said Marion.

‘Do you think I give a damn what you have to say? How would you react if the FBI flew into Reykjavík and started interrogating people all over the place without obtaining permission? Would you welcome them with open arms? Would you think it was all fine and dandy if the FBI were running their own police investigation in Reykjavík? Wouldn’t you want to prevent it? Ask what was going on?’

‘But you people refused to cooperate!’

‘Do you think we give a shit if a cop like you starts threatening us? You’re on US territory. Your threats have no substance here.’ He turned to Caroline. ‘What I don’t understand is why you got involved in all this, Sergeant.’