Someone to Watch Over Me (12 page)

Although Lísa’s rape was a vile act, it wasn’t unprecedented. Thóra had read on the Internet that morning about necrophiliacs, people whose fetish was to have sex with the dead. Nor was this sort of repulsive sexual deviance anything new. The ‘father of history’, the Greek Herodotus, told of how Egyptians let the corpses of beautiful young women rot for three to four days before they were handed over to those who were to anoint them, to prevent them from being disgraced in this way. Of course, Herodotus was also called ‘the father of lies’, so Thóra didn’t know how much this story could be trusted. It was clear, however, from other articles that she skimmed over, that this was a not uncommon modern-day fantasy. Around seventy per cent of those who suffered from this fetish said that they dreamed of sex with people who neither resisted nor gave any sign of rejecting them. A comatose person would certainly fit into this category.

Thóra dug her mobile phone out from her overflowing handbag and called directory enquiries. She decided to utilize the time that she had before meeting with her client to speak to Jakob’s former defender, the lawyer also appointed by the Supreme Court as Jakob’s supervisor. She had tried several times to reach Ari Gunnarsson since starting her investigation, to no avail, and he hadn’t responded to her messages. But Thóra had no other choice but to keep on trying, since Ari’s insight into the case was sure to aid her investigation. It was also more appropriate to let him know of her intentions formally, rather than simply through messages left on his answering machine. His role as supervisor was to ensure that the individual deemed not criminally liable remained in residence at the designated institution for no longer than necessary, although this particular issue would have no influence on the reopening of the case.

Thóra had immediately recognized Ari’s name in the dossier. His details were often given to people who’d been arrested when they asked for a lawyer. He was a decent guy, as far as she could tell; not exactly a genius, but no idiot either. She recalled a rumour which had circulated in the legal world that he had come dangerously close to being disbarred due to being bankrupt for many years, but had somehow escaped this punishment. The man appeared not to have particularly good references, which made Thóra curious about who had selected him to supervise Jakob and why. Had Jakob himself been made to point at a name on a police list, or had his mother done so? She supposed that if you didn’t know any lawyers, that was no worse a way than any other to choose one.

Ari answered on the second ring, apparently in the middle of lunch. He mumbled to her to definitely drop by – he had an hour free, and it would give him an excuse to put aside the boring job he was working on. He apologized for not having responded to her messages; he simply hadn’t got round to it. After swallowing his food in a dramatic fashion, he stopped mumbling and gave her the address of his law office more intelligibly. As she’d expected, it was close by; few lawyers set up shop in the suburbs. When she got there, she discovered that his firm shared a corridor with a few other unassuming offices, including several small wholesalers and a dentist. The latter seemed not to be taking a lunch break, judging by the whine of the drill that came from behind his closed door as Thóra walked by.

Ari’s office was a mess. He was obviously self-employed, because there was only one desk set up in the spacious room. Bookshelves lined the walls and were loaded with rubbish that seemed to have been dumped there at random. A sofa that had seen better days stood under the window, but she could hardly see it for the papers, files and books that were scattered all over it. Even the floor was being used as a filing cabinet and Thóra had the feeling that it wouldn’t take long for a narrow path to form from the door to the table and the worn-looking visitors’ chair. After Ari showed her in, she took a seat. He was on the phone when she arrived and appeared to be negotiating a car purchase, with Ari wanting more for the vehicle than the buyer was willing to pay. A half-eaten sandwich in a rustling plastic wrapper moved back and forth when Ari wanted to place particular emphasis on his words. A piece of lettuce flew out from between the slices of bread and landed on the computer screen in front of him. It slid down lazily as Ari wiped away the mayonnaise streak that it left behind. Finally he hung up, without having concluded the car deal, and smiled at Thóra.

‘Sorry, I didn’t realize that you were so close by.’ Thóra started muttering politely that that was all right, but she didn’t get to finish her sentence before Ari interrupted her. ‘But enough about that. What can I do for you? You said that you’re working on reopening Jakob’s case. How come?’ He took a big bite of the flimsy white-bread sandwich, which was now falling apart after its vigorous shaking.

Thóra told him the entire story of her new assignment before turning to the business at hand: ‘… and since you were Jakob’s lawyer, I wondered if you had any useful information, or if you could remember anything about the case that struck you as odd or unusual.’

Ari laughed curtly. He was on the chubby side and it made his cheeks wobble. ‘The oddest thing about that case was the client. He was completely ga-ga. I won’t be defending any more retards, or whatever you’re meant to call them now. It was like dealing with an ugly, overgrown child. And as if it wasn’t bad enough defending him, they appointed me to be his supervisor.’

Thóra tried not to be too offended by what he said, hoping it was just a reflection of his insecurity. She doubted many clients found their way to this den of chaos. ‘Of course the young man is developmentally disabled, so I can completely understand that communication between you must have been difficult. But I was thinking of something related to the investigation or to the case itself. I’ll make my own judgements on him as a person.’

‘Such sensitivity!’ That nasty laugh again, but thankfully it ended abruptly. ‘You know, I’m actually relieved they didn’t consult me about the reopening of his case. I should be insulted or pissed off, but I’m not at all, not in the least. It was one of the worst cases I’ve ever taken on, and I’ve seen a lot in my time. But it all seemed pretty clear-cut to me: those who died were better off dead, to call a spade a spade, and Jakob is best kept institutionalized for life. If you really believe he’s innocent, all I have to say is: “Good luck with that”.’

Thóra didn’t know quite how she should respond to this extraordinary statement. It was probably best to let it go unremarked; otherwise there was a risk that this would end in an argument. She now seriously doubted that this man had handled Jakob’s interests with anything resembling professional integrity. ‘So you saw nothing in the case that might suggest someone else had a hand in what happened? I’m aware that Jakob’s testimony was contradictory, to the point where at times his guilt didn’t seem to be in question, but as you said yourself, he behaves like a child, and they’ve never been considered reliable witnesses. If full consideration wasn’t taken of his disability, it’s equally likely that something was accidentally missed that might point the finger at someone other than him.’ As she spoke, Thóra marvelled to herself at Jakob’s bad luck in getting Ari as his lawyer. The man was probably great at wrangling with the judicial system on behalf of petty criminals, but he was the polar opposite of what was needed for this case.

‘No, I don’t think so.’

Thóra wasn’t convinced. ‘So there was nothing that came to light regarding the running of the home, or anything else suggesting that someone other than Jakob had reason to want to destroy it?’

‘No, nothing.’

‘What about the young paralysed woman who was pregnant, Lísa Finnbjörnsdóttir? Do you think it stretches credibility to say that the father would have been anxious to conceal the pregnancy?’

‘What?’ Ari seemed genuinely surprised. His lower jaw slackened and his half-open mouth formed a black hole in his otherwise pale face. ‘Where did you get that idea?’

‘It’s in black and white in the girl’s autopsy report. She was around four months pregnant when she died. The father is unknown, but it’s clear that conception took place at the centre. She didn’t get out much, so I understand.’ The black hole opened even wider and Thóra caught a glimpse of the pink tip of the man’s tongue.

‘I wasn’t remotely aware of this, and nor was anyone else as far I know. It was never mentioned in the hearings, or the interrogations, or anywhere else for that matter.’

‘It’s untrue that no one was aware of it, although it was never discussed, out of consideration for her family. You could easily have found out about it, but since you failed to do so, everyone was able to breathe easier.’

Ari was quick to recover his composure. He shut his mouth again with an audible snap and spread out his hands dramatically. His shirt cuffs were threadbare and the pinstripe material of his suit shiny with wear at the elbows. He clearly wasn’t raking it in defending burglars.

‘Well now. I doubt that it would have changed anything. Who would kill a whole lot of people just to hide such a thing? I can see it must have been awkward and all that, but I mean …’ He let his hands drop. ‘Why not just kill
her
? Cram a pill or two into her mouth, end of story.’

Thóra thought she might cram a thing or two into him if he went on like this much longer. ‘Of course it’s impossible to understand how or why it happened; I’m just pointing out that something was going on that someone wanted to keep hidden, and there might be more to the case that I’m not aware of. Might you not have come across something but maybe considered it irrelevant to the defence case?’

‘No, I swear I don’t remember anything. I would tell you if I did.’ His chair creaked as he leaned back. ‘I should tell you that I was swamped with work when this case was handed to me. Looking back on it, I might not have taken the time to go over every small detail. But that’s another matter; what’s more important is that it wouldn’t have made a difference. All the evidence indicated that Jakob started the fire, and the court would hardly have been receptive to vague theories about other culprits.’ He turned to the slightly sloping bookshelf behind him. ‘I can do one thing, of course, which is lend you the files. I still have them here somewhere.’ He looked around and smiled mischievously at Thóra. ‘I’m not one for throwing things out, as you might have guessed.’ She didn’t return the smile.

‘I’ve already had most of the material from Jakob’s mother. She saved everything she got her hands on.’

‘That’s just a small proportion of it. She can have this if she wants it.’ He pulled one file after another from the shelf. ‘She was an old woman who wouldn’t have benefited from seeing it. In case you’re easily shocked, before you read it you should know that there are aspects of this case that are a little … unsavoury. Another reason why I couldn’t get properly involved in it. There was far too much going on; it was too weird and fucked-up to get my head round.’

‘How so?’ Thóra didn’t understand where the man was going with this. Considering his previous statements, it could well be that he’d been so repelled by the descriptions of the disabled residents and the work of the residence that he’d had to put aside the case.

‘These people were all weirdoes – the residents, of course, but the staff too. These so-called professionals testified in court one after another and the stuff they were coming out with was so mental that I wasn’t the only one who’d had enough by the end of it. According to them we should all leave our jobs and start doing something noble, like caring for the disabled. People may say the work they do is incredible, but I don’t think it was all done out of the kindness of their hearts, if you catch my drift. There was something funny going on.’

Thóra cleared her throat loudly, mostly to stop herself from shouting. Ari was saying something about these people only being fit to go in a meat grinder, but she wasn’t really listening now. Had someone who felt the same way as Ari burned down the home, out of hatred towards those less fortunate than himself? A lot had gone on since the nation’s money evaporated, and some people must have resented the fact that funding was being allocated to these causes. Though admittedly it did take more than a foul mouth and a narrow mind to do something as drastic as killing five people. ‘Was there anything else, besides the specialist carers, that pissed you off about the case?’

‘Plenty.’ The look of outrage over the arrangements at the unit faded slowly from Ari’s face and was replaced by a more serious expression. His eyes flicked to the side and he stared at the rubbish on the floor by his desk instead of meeting Thóra’s gaze, as he had done until now. ‘I think what frustrated me most is that it seemed like money had been poured into the construction of this centre, but not into other comparable enterprises. I looked briefly into whether this was normal, to throw equipment and employees at an establishment as if we were a wealthy oil empire, and it wasn’t. The only reason that place had as much put into it as it did was because one of the prospective residents had connections in high places. He was accepted instead of others on the waiting list, and that’s just the tip of the iceberg. Corruption is everywhere, as you no doubt know.’ The sudden look of horror on Ari’s face, which he immediately tried to hide, suggested that he’d accidentally said something he’d been trying not to mention.

‘Who do you mean? Which of the residents?’ asked Thóra.

Ari threw up his hands. ‘Sorry, I don’t remember. I’ll look it up later and send you an e-mail.’ He didn’t ask her for her e-mail address, so clearly this e-mail would never be sent. She would have to find out by other means.

‘Could this corruption, or whatever it was, have been the reason behind the fire?’ Thóra had no idea how that might be the case, but who knew, maybe someone whose child hadn’t been admitted had lost it when it turned out that the offspring of someone better-connected had queue-jumped the waiting list.

‘No.’ Ari shook his head. ‘I’ve told you that Jakob is the guilty party. He started the fire and that’s the end of it. Maybe he didn’t realize the consequences it would have but he did it nonetheless. Isn’t he doing OK at Sogn? It can’t be all that different to living at the residence.’