Oblivion

35

Rasmus retreated down the hall, backing towards the staircase until he stumbled over the bottom step. Recovering his balance, he climbed onto it and paused there. Erlendur could now see better in the gloom and was able to make out the study, a dining room and a kitchen to one side of him. Along the walls stood bundles of newspapers, tied together with string. The floor was strewn with plastic bags of rubbish. He could see the dim shapes of shelves, old furniture and paintings on the walls. There were cardboard boxes and packages on the floor and surfaces. On every side Erlendur was confronted with the clutter and chaos of a man who was trying to keep the world at a safe distance by turning this dark house into a refuge.

‘I’m sorry if I went too far,’ said Erlendur, feeling pity for the recluse. ‘I didn’t mean to upset you. Didn’t mean to scare you.’

Rasmus was looking at him sceptically.

‘I just have a few more questions, then I’ll go,’ said Erlendur.

‘You can’t force your way in here and speak to me like that,’ said Rasmus, still hurt and angry.

‘No, I know. I overstepped the mark. It won’t happen again. Just a few more questions, then I’ll be gone. When did you last speak to her?’

‘What do you mean?’

‘You said you’d spoken to Dagbjört several times. Once when you met her in the shop. When was the last time you spoke to her?’

‘Shortly before she went missing. It was out here in the street, a bit further down. We got talking. She was having a party that evening and wanted to apologise in advance in case her friends were too noisy. I told her not to worry. I could tell by looking at her how much she was looking forward to it.’

‘Do you remember what else you talked about?’

‘Yes, I remember it well. Every detail. Every word she said. She told me they had a good gramophone but almost no decent records. And she asked if I could lend her any. I said I was afraid I didn’t own any records. The only music I listened to was on the radio. She said they never played anything for young people and I agreed. The State Broadcasting Service put on nothing but symphonies. Still does.’

Rasmus attempted to smile but it resulted in no more than slight tremors of his lips that revealed a hint of teeth. He was recovering his composure after this rude invasion of his property. Erlendur had succeeded in calming him.

‘Was that all?’ said Erlendur. ‘You only talked about music?’

‘Yes, that was all.’

‘Is it right, what I’ve heard, that you were the victim of an attack several years after Dagbjört vanished?’

‘Where did you hear that?’ asked Rasmus, surprised.

‘From a man I know who used to live in Camp Knox.’

‘I’m not sure I want to talk about it,’ said Rasmus hesitantly.

‘No, all right,’ said Erlendur, keen not to put too much pressure on the man.

‘It was an unpleasant experience.’

‘I can believe it.’

‘A couple of hooligans. They stank of the camp. I was walking home from town and they followed me as if I was some kind of freak. Started insulting me. I’d never seen them before but they seemed to know all about me. That I used to live with my mother and so on. That she was dead. I begged them to leave me alone but they wouldn’t listen. They pushed me into an alleyway and hit me. Stole my bag. Then ran away. I was left lying there, covered in blood, but managed to struggle home somehow.’

‘Did the police catch them?’

‘Police? I didn’t bother the police. My mother would have said there was no point making a fuss about a little thing like that. People are just envious of our sort, you see.’

‘Tell me more about your conversation with Dagbjört. You discussed the party she was having that evening, and music. That’s all?’

‘I remember it so well; she wanted to get hold of some new records,’ said Rasmus. ‘There weren’t as many foreign records around then. Not like now, all that terrible racket.’

‘And how was she planning to “get hold of” them?’

‘She was hoping a friend of hers would bring along some brand-new records from America. The girl had got them through her cousin who worked on the base. Dagbjört wanted him to buy some for her too.’

‘So, he worked on the base, did he? This cousin?’

‘Yes, that’s what she said.’

‘Did he live there too?’

‘She didn’t say.’

‘Do you know what he was called?’

‘No, all I knew was that he was the cousin of one of her friends.’

‘You didn’t mention this to the police after Dagbjört went missing?’

‘The police?’

‘Didn’t you think you were in possession of an important piece of information?’

‘What information?’ asked Rasmus, looking confused.

‘I don’t think this has come out before. That she might have been intending to meet this man.’

‘I wouldn’t know.’

‘Didn’t it occur to you after she vanished?’

‘No, I can’t say it did. She must have mentioned it to other people too. If she was intending to buy records from this man. What’s so remarkable about that? It can hardly have been much of a secret.’

‘You’re right,’ said Erlendur. ‘Not everything’s reported in the files. Perhaps it wasn’t significant.’

‘I wouldn’t have thought so,’ said Rasmus.

‘Did you watch Dagbjört and her friends having their party? From your house?’

Rasmus nodded.

‘And when the party was over and her friends had left, Dagbjört went up to her room to get ready for bed and saw you peeping through the curtains, watching her undress?’

‘Yes,’ Rasmus admitted reluctantly.

‘You don’t like visitors much,’ said Erlendur, trying to meet Rasmus’s shifty eyes and read the truth from them. ‘Especially not from the police. You don’t report it when you’re beaten up. You talk to Dagbjört shortly before she vanishes but don’t tell anyone. Maybe you were afraid your secret would be exposed?’

‘My secret?’

‘After all, if it had emerged that you used to spy on her in the evenings you might have been suspected of far worse after she went missing. You couldn’t take the risk. Unless you were afraid of something quite different. Have you got other secrets, Rasmus? Something you’re hiding here in your house?’

‘I didn’t touch her,’ protested Rasmus. ‘I could never have hurt her. You’ve got to understand that. Never. Never. Never.’