The Shadow Killer

22

Ebeneser stared at Flóvent without saying a word. As Flóvent waited patiently for an answer the silence in the little classroom grew more and more oppressive. The three of them seemed to be the only people in the building. There were still a few weeks left before term began and the corridors filled again with children, sunburnt and boisterous after their long summer break. At this time of year the building was cold and silent. It gave Flóvent such a strange empty feeling, walking through the echoing corridors of a school during the summer holidays.

‘I... I’m afraid I’m not with you,’ said the headmaster eventually, folding his arms.

‘You said you hadn’t seen Rudolf lately but we happen to know that’s not true,’ said Flóvent. ‘We know you went to his house recently and we’d be grateful if you’d tell us more about your meeting.’

‘I... as I said, I can’t help you with that...’

‘You did meet?’

‘Well, since you’re so determined to have an answer,’ said Ebeneser, who seemed to have finally made up his mind about what to say, ‘we did meet briefly the other day. I didn’t think there was any need to mention it because... he... It concerned a private matter that I don’t believe is any of your business. I don’t know where you got your information from, but it’s not unusual for me to talk to Rudolf. He’s my brother-in-law. Did he tell you about our meeting?’

‘Is it unusual for you to avoid talking about it?’ chipped in Thorson. ‘You seem very reluctant to do so.’

‘No, it’s not that I’m reluctant. To be frank, it’s simply none of your business,’ said Ebeneser, on a firmer note. ‘Look, can we bring this to a close? I’m extremely busy.’

‘In a minute,’ said Flóvent. ‘What did you two discuss? Your nephew Felix? Who were the boys you were talking about?’

‘There must be some misunderstanding,’ said Ebeneser. ‘We weren’t talking about any boys. Would you mind telling me if you heard that from Rudolf himself? Not that I understand why he would have said such a thing. Where did you get your information?’

‘What did you quarrel about then?’ asked Flóvent, his patience wearing thin. ‘Your mutual enthusiasm for Nazism? I don’t suppose there was much to argue about there. The party meetings you attended?’

Ebeneser looked affronted, as if such questions were unworthy of an answer. Flóvent contemplated hauling him in for questioning at the prison on Skólavördustígur if he remained obdurate, but abandoned the idea. He was probably making a mountain out of a molehill, and anyway it would attract unwelcome attention if news got out that a headmaster and former member of the Icelandic Nazi party was being held by the police in connection with Felix Lunden’s disappearance. Something more substantial than a refusal to cooperate would be required before he could justify resorting to such measures. Still, he decided to test the headmaster’s patience a little further and pulled the school anniversary publication out of his pocket.

‘Are these the boys you were quarrelling about?’ he asked, pointing to the photograph.

Ebeneser took the pamphlet from him, his face impassive. He studied the people in the picture for a while before eventually asking where they had come across it. Flóvent explained that it had turned up in a trunk belonging to one of the boys in the photograph. He had recently died in a tragic incident. He was the man who was found dead in Felix Lunden’s flat — shot in the head. ‘It was Eyvindur,’ he said.

‘Eyvindur?’ whispered the headmaster.

‘Yes.’

‘Was it him? He was the man found dead at Felix’s place?’

‘We finally managed to identify the body,’ said Flóvent.

‘But... Felix? Where is he?’

‘We were hoping you might be able to help us answer that.’

‘Was it Felix who shot him?’ asked the headmaster.

‘We have no other suspects at present,’ said Flóvent.

Ebeneser continued to stare at the photograph. He appeared to be casting around in vain for the right words, and Flóvent sensed that he was growing increasingly flustered.

‘Do you think something might have happened to Felix too?’ Ebeneser asked, finding his voice at last.

‘There’s no evidence of that. Do you mean has he been murdered as well?’

‘No, I’m not... I know nothing about Felix,’ said Ebeneser, ‘if you came here to ask me about him. I’ve no idea where he is. I have to say I find it unlikely that he would have committed a crime like that, but how would I know? Felix and I haven’t had any contact for... for a long time and I don’t know what he’s been up to in recent years. You should ask Rudolf about that. I really don’t think I have anything to add.’

‘About the photograph...’

‘I’d rather be alone now, if you don’t mind. This isn’t... this is bad news... terrible news for us. For our family, you understand. I’m... naturally I’m very upset about this. If what you say is true, if it’s true that Felix is... guilty of an appalling crime like that, it’s a dreadful shock for those of us closest to him.’

‘We understand that,’ said Flóvent. ‘Could you tell us when the picture was taken? We need the names of the other people in the photo. And to know what the occasion was. If you could—’

‘Do you think he’s made a run for it? Felix, I mean?’

‘Yes, it looks like it. At least we don’t know any better. About the picture...’

‘I’m afraid I can’t be of much help,’ said Ebeneser.

‘Isn’t that the school building we can see in the background?’ prompted Thorson.

‘Yes, it looks to me as if the photo was taken in the grounds here, for the anniversary publication,’ said Ebeneser. ‘Are you absolutely sure that Felix killed Eyvindur?’

‘All the evidence points that way,’ said Flóvent. ‘Clearly they were at school together,’ he said, taking the leaflet back from the headmaster. ‘Do you know if they were friends?’

‘No, I don’t.’

‘We have reason to believe that they were close at one time, whatever may have happened later.’

‘Yes, it’s possible. I simply don’t know.’

‘Could you tell us the names of the people in the picture?’ Flóvent asked, holding it up to Ebeneser’s face.

‘Well, that’s me, obviously, and that’s Felix in front of me. Next to him is Eyvindur. Then there’s the school nurse... and a teacher, who died several years ago. I don’t recall the other two boys. I remember Eyvindur because he was... well, we had so many problems on account of his background. He was badly bullied. He couldn’t stand up for himself in the playground. Are you absolutely sure it was him you found in Felix’s flat?’

Flóvent nodded and supplied the additional detail that Eyvindur had been killed with the kind of pistol used by the American military, though the trail didn’t seem to lead in that direction at present. He wasn’t sure if he should mention the swastika drawn in blood. Few were aware of this detail as yet. But in the end he decided he might as well chance it. Ebeneser listened to what he had to say in horrified amazement, then replied that he couldn’t imagine Felix doing such a thing. Or anyone else, for that matter.

‘Do you think it’s because they knew each other as boys?’ Ebeneser asked tentatively, as if afraid of the answer. ‘If it was Felix who shot him?’

‘It’s possible,’ said Flóvent. ‘Can you think why he would have done it? Were they good friends when they were young? They’re standing side by side in this picture. They must have been fairly friendly.’

‘I’m afraid I couldn’t say.’

‘What can you tell me about the nurse?’ asked Flóvent, pointing at the picture again. ‘Did she work at the school for long?’

‘She worked here for several years, yes, and at other schools too.’ Ebeneser fell silent.

‘You must remember her well,’ said Flóvent, ‘but maybe you know her better from another context.’

Ebeneser coughed. ‘I do, actually. She’s been working for Rudolf Lunden for the last few years.’

‘Quite,’ said Flóvent. ‘What exactly does she do?’

‘Everything really,’ said Ebeneser. ‘She nurses him. Takes care of him. She’s his housekeeper.’

‘Does she live in?’

‘Yes.’

‘But they’re not married or anything?’

‘No, they’re not married.’

‘But they have a close relationship?’

‘You’d have to ask them about that. Was it her who told you about the meeting? About my meeting with Rudolf?’

‘No,’ said Flóvent. ‘By the way, I don’t even know her name. Could you enlighten me?’

‘Brynhildur,’ said the headmaster. ‘Her name’s Brynhildur Hólm.’