Strange Shores

46

Ezra’s reaction did not surprise Erlendur. He stumbled back from the sink, lost his footing and fell to one knee, knocking over the kitchen table in the process. Erlendur made a move to help him but Ezra pushed him off.

‘Get away from me!’ he yelled.

Erlendur righted the table instead and went to pick up the glass and plate that had fallen on the floor.

‘Get out!’ shouted Ezra, averting his eyes from the teeth that lay side by side on the worktop.

Erlendur picked them up and put them back in his pocket. He had known he would need proof to convince Ezra that he had really dug up Jakob’s body. Spotting the teeth lying on the base of the coffin by the weak light of the lantern, he had decided to take them with him. He didn’t believe in ghosts but even so he had felt uneasy about bringing them into the farmhouse and had left them in the car overnight.

‘What kind of sick behaviour is this?’ Ezra shouted at Erlendur when he had recovered from the worst of his shock. ‘How dare you?’

‘I examined what was left of Jakob and it wasn’t a pretty sight,’ said Erlendur. ‘Head wrenched back. Jaw gaping.’

Ezra had slumped into a worn wicker chair in the corner, where he sat with bowed head. It seemed he no longer trusted himself to meet Erlendur’s eye. He was chalk white.

‘Do you want to know my theory about how his teeth fell out?’ asked Erlendur, pulling up a chair and sitting down.

‘Who are you?’ groaned Ezra, raising his hurt, angry face. ‘Who would do such a thing? You must be sick.’

‘So I’ve been told,’ said Erlendur. ‘I want to know what happened in the ice house when Jakob was brought in.’

Ezra remained mute.

‘I suspect the reason his teeth fell out was connected to the marks I saw on the coffin lid. Do you want to know what I think?’

Ezra sat with his head buried in his hands.

‘Can you face the truth?’ asked Erlendur.

‘Those teeth could have come from anywhere,’ protested Ezra unconvincingly.

‘No, they couldn’t,’ Erlendur contradicted. ‘And you know it.’

‘I beg you. Please, for God’s sake, go and never come back. I don’t know why you’re persecuting me. I haven’t done you any harm, I don’t even know you. You bullied me into telling you about Matthildur. Isn’t that enough? Just leave me to die in peace.’

‘Did Jakob tell you what he’d done with her?’

‘No, he never told me. Have pity on me and get out. Leave me alone.’

‘If there’s the slightest chance, I want to help you find her,’ said Erlendur. ‘You ask why I won’t leave you alone and I can understand your question. I hope you understand my answer.’

Ezra’s face remained hidden.

‘It’s very simple,’ said Erlendur. ‘I want to help you, Ezra. That’s the only answer I can give. And I think that’s what I’m doing, though it may be hard for you to recognise, especially now. But I want to find Matthildur. If you know where she is, Ezra, I want you to tell me. If you don’t know, I’ll do what I can to see that you find her.’

‘I don’t know where she is,’ said Ezra. ‘And you’ll never find her.’

‘I’m not after a culprit,’ Erlendur continued. ‘I’m not looking for crimes or trying to mete out punishment. This is not a police matter. You needn’t be afraid that it’ll go beyond these four walls. Eventually, someone will notice that the ground has been disturbed in Djúpivogur cemetery. I don’t know when — it might take days or weeks, even months. I asked two of the locals about Jakob. They might make the connection but they don’t know who I am or where I come from, only that I’m researching shipwrecks in the East Fjords. And even if the disturbance is discovered, no one would dream that the coffin had been disinterred. It’ll just look like a spot of vandalism to a small area of the graveyard. At least that’s what I’m banking on.’

Ezra did not interrupt Erlendur’s speech.

‘All I want is to find Matthildur,’ he said. ‘We have that in common, if nothing else.’

‘Why?’ asked Ezra.

Now it was Erlendur’s turn to be lost for words.

‘You’ve never found your brother,’ suggested Ezra softly.

‘That’s right.’

‘But you think you can find my Matthildur?’

‘I don’t know,’ Erlendur admitted. ‘You’ll have to tell me about Jakob. I understand how hard it is, especially after all these years. But you must tell me.’

‘There’s nothing to tell.’

‘Ezra, help me find her.’

The old man was stubbornly mute. But Erlendur was not prepared to give up and proceeded to explain how he had come to the decision to dig up Jakob’s remains. How his suspicions had been roused by his conversations with Ezra and Hrund. How they were fuelled by his interest in the human ability to withstand extreme cold; an interest derived from his professional experience. He told him about the spade that had come with the hire car and had proved invaluable during his night-time visit to the graveyard. That he had been terrified some passer-by would see what he was doing and raise the alarm. Erlendur wanted to win back Ezra’s trust, to come across as scrupulous and credible. He described the wooden planks from which the coffin was constructed, how solid it had been despite the passing of more than half a century and yet how easy it had been to break open.

‘I don’t want to hear,’ protested Ezra.

‘But you will though,’ said Erlendur. ‘And don’t claim there’s nothing to tell. I believe you committed a terrible crime, Ezra.’

‘I wanted to know about Matthildur — that was my only thought. The only thing I’d cared about since she disappeared. I wanted to know where she was.’

‘I understand.’

‘All I was thinking about, or could think about, was what she suffered at his hands.’

‘That’s to be expected.’

‘I wanted revenge.’

‘I’m sure you did.’

Ezra’s eyes dropped again. ‘What marks on the coffin lid?’ he mumbled.

Erlendur didn’t grasp what he was asking.

‘You said you saw marks on the coffin lid.’

‘I realised Jakob must have been alive when he was buried. He still had the strength to claw and bite at the lid, but that can’t have lasted long because he’d have suffocated fairly quickly. But I imagine he realised he was shut in a coffin, though that’s only a guess. His death must have been hideous. Indescribably horrible.’

Ezra straightened up in his chair and looked Erlendur in the eye, as if he had made up his mind.

‘He was alive,’ he said. ‘The other man died in the sea. His crewmate. But Jakob survived. And. .’

‘And what?’

‘I didn’t tell anyone. I kept it secret. I was the only person who knew.’

Ezra smothered his face in his hands again.

‘My God,’ he groaned. ‘I still have nightmares about what I did.’