The Quiet Mother

60

Most of them were the same, the houses in the neighbourhood by the sea, big square boxes with expansive windows, dark-tinted panes in some, and columns at the front as if the Greeks had come ashore there at some point.

Konrád drove further down the street until he came to the end of the cul-de-sac. There stood one of the finest detached houses in the neighbourhood, built more or less like a ship’s hull, with its prow facing Faxaflói Bay and tall picture windows on both sides.

Konrád rarely passed this way, but he remembered Sunday drives with Erna and Húgó through some of these streets once upon a time. The neighbourhood was well established and properties came up for sale only every now and then, and were then fought over.

He hadn’t been in touch with Marta, but was putting it off until he’d spoken to the man he’d come to meet. Ísleifur had been a little more helpful after Konrád threatened to call the police, and recalled for Konrád a few things from the past that could possibly be useful. Konrád was still full of conjectures and suspicions, which he was going to try to get answers to there in the house by the sea. He was doing this primarily for himself. And for Valborg, even though it was too late. Maybe he was off course. Yet he thought it more likely that he was right. He had the feeling that he was reaching the end.

He’d called Regína and told her who he was going to meet, explained his suspicions and asked if she knew the man at all. Whether Sunnefa had ever mentioned him. Regína couldn’t be of any help to him, but had difficulty hiding her curiosity. Konrád said he would be in touch again when things had become clearer.

As he approached the house, he heard what sounded like a muffled clack come from it. He stopped and listened, and shortly afterwards, heard the same sound again. He felt like it was coming from the other side of the house, the one facing the sea. After a moment’s hesitation, he slunk into the garden. The evening was mild and it was still bright enough for a fight, as the old books said, the setting sun casting a red glow on the sky. Konrád made it unimpeded through the large garden and up onto a sun deck that faced the sea and was huge, with a storage shed, a hot tub, and an outdoor barbecue in one corner. Near the front edge of the deck was a gadget used on golf-driving ranges, loaded with golf balls that almost magically appeared one by one on top of a plastic tee sticking out of a green mat. That’s where the sound came from. Bernódus stood there on the plastic mat and swung a golf club that hit the ball with a little clack, making it soar into the air and land in the sea around two hundred metres away. As soon as he’d hit one golf ball, the plastic tee sank down and picked up a new one that Bernódus knocked out to sea.

He didn’t notice Konrád, who watched him from the deck and tried to imagine how many balls this practice of Bernódus’s left lying on the seabed. A fine white golf bag stood upright near the device, and Bernódus seemed to be no stranger to the sport, hitting every ball flawlessly. He took a break from practising to switch clubs and rekindle a stout cigar sitting in an ashtray on top of the ball machine. Next to the cigar was a half-full glass of cognac.

‘Isn’t there enough trash in the ocean already?’ Konrád asked. Bernódus didn’t seem surprised by the interruption. Holding the cigar over the lighter’s flame, he turned round while inhaling the smoke.

‘Sorry,’ he said. ‘I’ve been meaning to look in on you.’

He noticed Konrád’s hesitation when he didn’t respond to his greeting.

‘Aren’t you the one who moved in next door to us?’

‘No. I don’t live in this neighbourhood. My name is Konrád.’

‘Konrád? And...?’

‘And I knew a woman named Valborg. And I’m getting to know Ísleifur better and better all the time. And I think you’re a scumbag.’

‘Who are they? Am I supposed to know these people?’

‘I’m afraid so.’

‘Well, how about you just piss off, my friend? You have no right to intrude like this.’

‘Ísleifur still denies it, but I think you sent him to Valborg’s the other day, which ended with her death. Suffocated in a plastic bag he used to take beer cans to the recycling. Not a very exciting death, but then again, Ísleifur is nothing special, either. Though you once found him to be so. Do you remember that?’

‘I don’t know what the hell you’re on about,’ said Bernódus, tossing his cigar off the deck. ‘I’ll have to ask you to get out of here before I call the police.’

He was about to go into the house, but Konrád stopped him.

‘Do you know what I think happened? I think Ísleifur told you what he did once in Keflavík. I think he told you about it sometime when you were working together at the Base. Do you remember that? That he went out to have some fun and asked the women who worked the club what they were doing after the place closed for the night. That he hid inside the club and pretended to have fallen asleep. That he raped a woman. I think he told you all about it one time when you were drunk at the Base, blowing off steam at the Officers’ Club and pretending to be big men. Is that right?’

‘What fucking bullshit is this?’

‘He made out it was easy to get away with because it’s not all women who have what it takes to recount such a horrendous experience to others, but are just tormented by it in silence for years. Yet there was one woman who pressed charges against him. The woman in Keflavík. But he was lucky that the judge didn’t find her credible enough. For some reason, though, Ísleifur was. Not her. “Really?” someone who knows Ísleifur might say. Someone like you.’

Bernódus pushed Konrád away.

‘You decided to imitate him and Valborg ended up in your clutches. Maybe other women, too. I don’t know. Ísleifur didn’t tell me everything, but he did tell me one or two things. That you’d told him what you did at Glaumbær. And that you came to him recently and said she was pestering you and upsetting everything, the woman you raped, and you asked if he could do something about it. You wanted Ísleifur to go to her and teach her a lesson, so she’d stop bothering you. He said he’d refused to do so, which made you furious. Maybe he’s lying. He lies a lot. Maybe he did as you asked and went to Valborg with his plastic bags. Maybe you went there yourself after he refused.’

Bernódus went to the golf bag, took one of the clubs from it, and stepped menacingly towards Konrád.

‘Why don’t you just piss off!’ he said.

‘You’re not concerned about the child?’ said Konrád, without moving. ‘You and Valborg’s child?’

‘She was lying,’ said Bernódus.

‘So she was in touch with you?’

‘She ambushed me and accused me with some bloody rubbish. It was a lie, like everything she’s said to you.’

‘I haven’t confirmed it, but I think she had a boy who was given the name Daníel. It was some religious drunks who took him in. It’s my understanding that he hasn’t had a good life, but that’s going to change. When he’s handed all this money. All this wealth. By his dad. Wasn’t that Valborg’s business with you? Before you sent Ísleifur to her place? Before you went to her place?’

Konrád saw that the man was trying to control his anger.

‘You and Ísleifur have always kept in touch, haven’t you? Ever since the old days?’

Bernódus swung the club at him, but Konrád dodged and grabbed it, yanked it from his hands and flung it towards the hot tub and the big Texas grill. The club hit the grill with a clang.

‘Have you told your wife about this?’ said Konrád, acting as if nothing had happened. ‘How Daníel came into existence? Have you told your daughter about it?’

At that, the door to the house opened and a woman of Konrád’s age stepped out onto the deck. He thought he recognised her from the clippings. It was Bernódus’s wife.

‘Told his daughter about what?’ she asked, looking in surprise at Konrád and her husband, then at the golf club lying by the grill. ‘What’s all this commotion?’

‘Nothing,’ said Bernódus. ‘Go inside!’

‘Bernódus?’

‘Get back inside!’ the man ordered. His aggression didn’t go unnoticed by Konrád. He didn’t think the man’s behaviour towards her now was something new.

‘There was a woman in town who accused your husband of raping her decades ago,’ said Konrád. ‘She never pressed charges, but the rape resulted in a child she didn’t want to keep, and gave up. She contacted me and asked me to find the child.’

The woman stared at her husband.

‘What is he saying?’

‘Nothing, don’t worry about it. Get back in the house, woman!’

‘Is this true?’

‘It’s a lie. I told you to get the hell back inside!’

‘Bernódus... is this true?!’

‘Inside, you airhead! You’re so fucking stupid! I’ve never seen this man before — don’t let him lie to you!’

‘The woman’s name was Valborg and I think she asked me to track down the child so that he can have his share in all of this,’ said Konrád, looking over their splendid house. ‘She’s the one who was murdered the other day — I’m sure you’ve seen the news reports. I’m trying to find out if your husband had something to do with that.’

The woman stared thunderstruck at her husband. No sooner had Konrád said those words than his mobile rang. He pulled the phone from his pocket and saw that it was Regína, and thought it best not to wait to answer. He heard straight away that she was extremely upset.

‘He’s here,’ she whispered fearfully as soon as Konrád answered. ‘Here in the house... he’s so angry, I hardly dare... Daníel is—’

Just then, the call ended. Konrád’s phone battery had died.