Tainted Blood

45

Sometimes he felt as if his life had deserted him and only his empty body remained, staring with vacant eyes out into the darkness.

Erlendur stood on the edge of the grave and looked down at Einar lying beside it. He picked up the lantern, shone it down and saw that Einar was dead. After putting the lamp down he started to lower the coffin into the ground. He opened it first, put the jar inside and closed it again. He had to struggle to lower the coffin by himself but he managed it in the end. He found a shovel that had been left behind on a pile of dirt. After making the sign of the cross over the coffin he started shovelling dirt over it and it pained him every time the heavy soil slammed onto the white lid with a dark, hollow thud.

Erlendur took the white pegging that lay broken beside the grave, tried to put it back in its place and drew on every ounce of his strength to raise the headstone. He was finishing the job when he heard the first cars and people calling out as they arrived at the cemetery. He heard Sigurdur Oli and Elinborg shouting at him in turn. He heard the voices of people who were lit up by the headlights, their shadows gigantic in the dark night. He saw more and more torch beams approaching him.

He saw Katrin and soon afterwards he noticed Elin. Katrin gave him a questioning look and when she realised what had happened she threw herself on top of Einar, crying, and hugged him. He didn’t try to stop her. He saw Elin kneel down beside her.

He heard Sigurdur Oli ask if he was all right and saw Elinborg pick up the shotgun that had dropped to the ground. He saw other policemen arriving and the flash bulbs of cameras in the distance like little bolts of lightning.

He looked up. It had started raining again but he thought the rain was somehow milder.

Einar was buried by his daughter’s side in Grafarvogur cemetery. It was a private funeral. Erlendur contacted Katrin. He told her about the meeting between Einar and Holberg. Erlendur talked about self-defence but Katrin knew he was trying to soothe her pain.

It kept on raining but the autumn winds died down. Soon it would be winter and frost and darkness. Erlendur welcomed that.

At his daughter’s insistence Erlendur finally went to the doctor. The doctor said the pain in his chest was caused by a bruised costal cartilage which was probably the fault of sleeping on a bad mattress and a general lack of exercise.

One day, over a piping bowl of meat stew, Erlendur asked Eva Lind whether he could choose the name if she gave birth to a girl. She said she’d expected him to make some suggestions.

“What do you want to call her?” she asked.

Erlendur looked at her.

“Audur,” he said. “I thought it would be nice to call her Audur.”