Voices (31 page)

'He wasn't pleased.'

'He's offering a very good price for them.'

'I can get more for them if I sell them myself, one at a time. Collectors are very interested in them. I think Wapshott's going to do the same even if he told me he wants to buy them to keep them out of circulation. I expect he's lying. He's planning to sell them and make money out of me. Everyone was going to make money out of me in the old days, especially Dad, and that hasn't changed. Not in the least.'

They stared at each other.

'Come home and talk to Dad,' she said. 'He doesn't have much time left.'

'Did Wapshott talk to him?'

'No, he wasn't there when Wapshott came. I told Dad about him.'

'And what did he say?'

'Nothing. Only that he wanted his share.'

'What about you?'

'What about me?'

'Why have you never left him? Why haven't you got married and had a family of your own? It's not your life that you're living, it's his life. Where's your life?'

'I suppose it's in the wheelchair you put him in,' Stefanía snorted, 'and don't you dare ask about my life.'

'He has the same power over you that he had over me in the old days.'

Stefanía exploded with rage.

'Someone had to look after him! His favourite, his star, turned into a voiceless queer who pushed him down the stairs and hasn't dared talk to him since. Prefers sitting in his house at night and creeping out before he wakes up. What power does he have over you? You think you got rid of him for once and for all, but just look at you! Look at yourself! What are you? Tell me that! You're nothing. You're scum.'

She stopped.

'Sorry,' he said. 'I shouldn't have said that.'

She didn't answer him.

'Does he ask about me?'

'No.'

'He never talks about me?'

'No, never.'

'He hates the way I live. He hates the way I am. He hates me. After all these years.'

*

'Why didn't you tell me this before?' Erlendur said. 'Why this game of hide-and-seek?'

'Hide-and-seek? Well, you can imagine. I didn't want to talk about family matters. I thought I could protect us, our privacy.'

'Was this the last time you saw your brother?'

'Yes.'

'Are you quite sure?'

'Yes.' Stefanía looked at him. 'What are you implying?'

'Didn't you catch him with a young man just as your father did, and throw a fit? That recalled the root of the unhappiness in your life and so you decided to put an end to it.'

'No, what...?'

'We have a witness.'

'A witness?'

'The lad who was with him. A young man who did your brother favours for money. You caught them in the basement, the lad ran away and you attacked your brother. Saw a knife on his desk and attacked him.'

'That's all wrong!' Stefanía said, sensing that Erlendur meant what he was saying, sensing the noose genuinely closing on her. She stared at Erlendur, unable to believe her own ears.

'There's a witness—' Erlendur began, but didn't manage to finish the sentence.

'What witness? What witness are you talking about?'

'Do you deny having caused your brothers death?'

The hotel telephone began ringing and before Erlendur could answer his mobile began ringing in his jacket pocket as well. He cast an apologetic look at Stefanía, who glared back at him.

'I must take this call,' Erlendur said.

Stefania backed off and he saw her take one of Gudlaugur's records, which was on the desk, out of its cover. When Erlendur answered the hotel telephone she was scrutinising the record. It was Sigurdur Óli. Erlendur answered his mobile and asked the caller there to hold.

'A man got in touch with me just now about the murder at the hotel and I gave him your mobile number,' Sigurdur Óli said. 'Has he called you?'

"There's someone on the other line right now,' Erlendur said.

'It looks as though we've solved this case. Talk to him and call me. I sent three cars over. Elínborg's with them.'

Erlendur put the receiver down and picked up his mobile again. He didn't recognise the voice, but the man introduced himself and started his account. He had barely begun before Erlendur's suspicions were confirmed and he figured it all out. They had a long talk and at the end of the conversation Erlendur asked the caller to go down to the police station and give a statement to Sigurdur Óli. He called Elínborg and gave her instructions. Then he put his mobile away and turned to Stefanía, who had put Gudlaugur's record on the turntable and switched it on.

'Sometimes, in the old days,' she said, 'when records like this were being made, there was all kinds of background noise that got onto the recordings, maybe because people didn't take much care about making them, the technology was primitive and the recording facilities were poor too. You can even hear passing traffic on them. Did you know that?'

'No,' Erlendur said, not grasping the point.

'You can hear it on this song, for example, if you listen carefully. I don't think anyone would notice unless they knew it was there.'

She turned up the volume. Erlendur pricked up his ears and noticed a background sound in the middle of the song.

'What is that?' he asked.

'It's Dad,' Stefanía said.

She played the part of the song again and Erlendur could hear it clearly, although he couldn't make out what was being said.

'That's your father?' Erlendur said.

'He's telling him he's wonderful,' Stefania said remotely. 'He was standing near the microphone and couldn't contain himself:

She looked at Erlendur.

'My father died yesterday,' she said. 'He lay down on the sofa after dinner and fell asleep as he sometimes did, and never woke up again. As soon as I entered the room I could tell he was gone. I sensed it before I touched him. The doctor said he had had a heart attack. That's why I came to the hotel to see you, to make a clean sweep. It doesn't matter any more. Not for him and not for me either. None of this matters any more.'

She played the snatch of song a third time and on this occasion Erlendur thought he could make out what was said. A single word attached to the song like a footnote.

Wonderful.

'I went down to Gudlaugur's room the day he was murdered to tell him that Dad wanted a reconciliation. By then I'd told Dad that Gudlaugur kept a key to the house and had sneaked inside, sat in the living room and crept back out without our noticing. I didn't know how Gudlaugur would react, whether he wanted to see Dad again or whether it was hopeless to try to reconcile them, but I wanted to try. The door to his room was open...'

Her voice quavered.

'... and there he lay in his own blood...'

She paused.

' ... in that costume ... with his trousers down ... covered in blood ...'

Erlendur went over to her.

'My God,' she groaned. 'I'd never in my life ... it was too appalling for words. I don't know what I thought. I was terrified. I think my only thought was to get out and try to forget it. Like all the rest. I convinced myself it was none of my business. That it didn't matter whether I was there or not, it was over and done with and was none of my business. I pushed it away, acted like a child. I didn't want to know about it and I didn't tell my father what I saw. Didn't tell a soul.'

She looked at Erlendur.

'I should have called for help. Of course I should have called the police ... but ... it ... it was so disgusting, so unnatural ... that I ran away. That was the only thing I thought of. Getting away. To escape from that terrible place and not let a single person see me.'

She paused.

'I think I've always been fleeing him. Somehow I've always been running away from him. All the time. And there...'

She sobbed gently.

'We should have tried to patch things up much earlier. I should have arranged that long before. That's my crime. Dad wanted that too, in the end. Before he died.'

They fell silent and Erlendur looked out of the window, and noticed that it was snowing less.

'The most terrifying thing was ...'

She stopped, as if the thought was unbearable.

'He wasn't dead, was he?'

She shook her head.

'He said one word, then he died. He saw me in the doorway and groaned my name. That he used to call me. When we were little. He always called me Steffi.'

And they heard him say your name before he died. Steffi.'

She looked at him in surprise.

'They who?'

Suddenly Eva Lind was standing in the open doorway. She stared at Stefanía and at Erlendur, then at Stefania again and shook her head.

'How many women have you got on the go anyway?' she said, with an accusatory look at her father.

33

He couldn't discern any change in Ösp. Erlendur stood watching her working, wondering if she would ever show remorse or guilt for what she had done.

'Have you found her, that Steffi?' she asked when she saw him in the corridor. She dumped a pile of towels into the laundry bin, took some fresh ones and put them in the room. Erlendur walked closer and stopped in the doorway, his thoughts elsewhere.

He was thinking about his daughter. He had managed to convince her who Stefanía actually was, and when Stefanía left he asked Eva Lind to wait for him. Eva sat down on the bed and he could tell at once that she was altered, she was back to her old ways. She launched into a tirade against him for everything that had gone wrong in her life and he stood and listened without saying a word, without objecting or enraging her even further. He knew why she was angry. She was not angry with him but with herself, because she had crashed. She could control herself no longer.

He didn't know what drug she was using. He looked at his watch.

'Are you in a hurry to go somewhere?' she said. 'Rushing off to save the world?'

'Can you wait for me here?' he said.

'Piss off she said, her voice hoarse and ugly.

'Why do you do this to yourself?'

'Shut up.'

'Will you wait for me? I wont be long and then we'll go home. Would you like that?'

She didn't answer. Sat with bowed head, looking out of the window at nothing.

'I won't be a minute,' he said.

'Don't go,' she pleaded, her voice less harsh now. 'Where are you going?'

'What's wrong?' he asked.

'What's wrong!' she barked. 'Everything's wrong. Everything! This fucking bloody life. That's what's wrong, life. Everything's wrong in this life! I don't know what it's for. I don't know why we live it. Why! Why??'

'Eva, it'll be—'

'God, how I regret not having her,' she groaned.

He put his arm around her.

'Every day. When I wake up in the morning and when I fall asleep at night. I think about her every single day and what I did to her.'

'That's good,' Erlendur said. 'You ought to think about her every day'

'But it's so hard and you never break out of it. Never. What am I supposed to do? What can I do?'

'Don't forget her. Think about her. Always. She helps you that way'

'How I wish I'd had her. What kind of a person am I? What kind of person does something like that? To her own child.'

'Eva.' He put his arm around her, she huddled up to him and they sat like that on the edge of the bed while the snow quietly settled over the city.

When they had been sitting for some time Erlendur whispered to her to wait for him in the room. He was going to take her home and celebrate Christmas with her. They looked at each other. Calmer now, she gave a nod.

But now he was standing at the door of a room on the floor below watching Ösp at work. He couldn't stop thinking about Eva. He knew he had to hurry back to her, take her home, be with her and spend Christmas with her.

'We talked to Steffi,' he called into the room. 'Her proper name's Stefanía and she was Gudlaugur's sister.'

Ösp came out of the bathroom.

'And what, does she deny everything, or...?'

'No, she doesn't deny anything,' Erlendur said. 'She knows where her fault lies and she's wondering what went wrong, when it happened and why. She's feeling bad but is beginning to come to terms with it. It's tough for her because it's too late for her to make amends.'

'Did she confess?'

'Yes,' Erlendur said. 'Most of it. In effect. She didn't confess in so many words but she knows the part she played.'

'Most of it? What's that supposed to mean?'

Ösp walked through the doorway past him to fetch detergent and a cloth, then went back into the bathroom. Erlendur walked inside and watched her cleaning as he had done before when the case was still open and she was a kind of friend of his.

'Everything, really,' he said. 'Except the murder. That's the only thing she's not going to own up to.'

Ösp sprayed cleaner onto the bathroom mirror, unmoved.

'But my brother saw her,' she said. 'He saw her stab her brother. She can't deny that. She can't deny being there.'

'No,' Erlendur said. 'She was down in the basement when he died. It just wasn't her who stabbed him.'

'Yes, Reynir saw it,' she said. 'She can't deny it'

'How much do you owe them?'

'Owe them?'

'How much is it?'

'Owe who? What are you talking about?'

Ösp rubbed the mirror like her life depended on it, like it would all be over if she stopped, the mask would drop and she would have to give up. She went on spraying and polishing, and avoided looking herself in the eye,.

Erlendur watched her and a phrase from a book he once read about paupers in times of old crossed his mind: she was a bastard child of the world.

'Elínborg is a colleague of mine who just checked your record at the crisis centre. The rape crisis centre. It was about six months ago. There were three of them. It took place in a hut by Lake Raudavatn. That was all you said. You claimed not to know who they were. They snatched you one Friday night when you were in town, took you to that hut and raped you one after the other.'

Ösp went on polishing the mirror and Erlendur couldn't see whether what he said had the slightest effect on her.

'In the end you refused to identify them and refused to press charges'

Ösp did not say a word.

'You work at this hotel but you don't earn enough to clear your debts and you don't earn enough to cover your habit. You've managed to keep them at bay with small payments and they give you more stuff, but they've been threatening you and you know they follow through with their threats'

Ösp did not look at him.

'There's no pilfering at this hotel, is there?' Erlendur said. 'You said that to hoodwink us, lead us on a wild goose chase.'

Erlendur heard a noise it he corridor and saw Elínborg and four police officers in front of the door. He gestured to her to wait.

'Your brother is in the same position as you. Maybe you have the same account with them, I don't know. He's been beaten up. He's been threatened. Your parents have been threatened. You don't dare to name these people. The police can't act because they are only threats, and when these people do do something, seize you and rape you in a hut, you don't give their names. Nor does your brother.'

Erlendur paused and watched her.

'A man phoned me just now. He works for the police, the drug squad. He sometimes gets calls from informants who tell him what they hear on the streets and on the drug scene. He received a call late last night, this morning really, from a man who said he had heard a story about a young girl who was raped six months ago and had trouble paying her dealers, until she settled her debt a couple of days ago. Both for herself and for her brother. Does that sound familiar?'

Ösp shook her head.

'It doesn't sound familiar?' Erlendur asked again. 'The informant knew the girl's name and that she worked at the hotel where Santa Claus was killed.'

Ösp went on shaking her head.

'We know that Gudlaugur had half a million in his room,' Erlendur said.

She stopped wiping the mirror, dropped her hands to her sides and stared at herself.

'I've been trying to stop.' 'Drugs?'

'It's pointless. They're merciless if you owe them.' 'Will you tell me who they are?' 'I didn't mean to kill him. He was always nice to me. And then ...' 'You saw the money?' 'I needed the money.'

'Was it because of the money? That you attacked him?' She didn't answer.

'Was it the money? Or was it because of your brother?' 'A bit of both,' Ösp said in a low voice. 'You wanted the money' 'Yes.'

'And he was taking advantage of your brother.' 'Yes.'

*

Out of the corner of her eye she saw her brother on his knees, a pile of money on the bed and the knife, and without a moment's thought she grabbed the knife and tried to stab Gudlauger. He parried her with his arms but she lurched at him again and again until he stopped thrashing around and slumped against the wall. Blood spurted out of a wound in his chest, his heart.

The knife was bloodstained, her hands were bloody and blood had spilled onto her coat. Her brother had got up from the floor and run out into the corridor, heading for the stairs.

Gudlaugur gave a heavy groan.

A deathly silence descended in the little room. She stared at Gudlaugur and at the knife in her hands. Suddenly Reynir reappeared.

'Someone's coming down the stairs,' he whispered.

He took the money, grabbed his sister who was glued to the spot, and dragged her out of the room and into the alcove at the end of the corridor. They hardly dared to breathe as the woman approached. She peered into the darkness but did not see them.

When she reached Gudlaugur's door she let out a muffled scream and they could hear Gudlaugur.

'Steffi,' he groaned.

Then they heard nothing more.

The woman went into the room but they saw her come straight back out. She backed away all the way up against the corridor wall, then suddenly turned away from the room and walked off quickly without so much as a backward glance.

*

'I threw the coat away and found another one. Reynir got out. I had to go on working. Otherwise you'd have sussed it all out at once, or I thought so anyway. Then I was asked to fetch him for the Christmas party. I couldn't refuse. I couldn't do anything that would draw attention to myself. I went down and waited in the corridor. His door was still open but I didn't go inside. I went back up and said I found him in his room and I thought he was dead.'

Ösp looked down at the floor.

'The worst thing is he was never anything but kind to me. Maybe that's why I got so mad. Because he was one of the few people who treated me decently here, and then my brother... I went mental. After everything that...'

'After everything they did to you?' Erlendur said.

'There's no point in bringing charges against those bastards. For the most brutal and bloodiest rapes they maybe get a year, a year and a half inside. Then they come back out. You lot can't do anything. There's nowhere to go for help. You just have to pay up. No matter how you go about it. I took the money and I paid. Maybe I killed him for the money. Maybe because of Reynir. I don't know. I don't know...'

She paused.

'I went mental,' she repeated. 'I've never felt like that before. Never flown into such a rage. I relived every second in that hut. Saw them. Saw it all happening again. I took the knife and tried to stab him everywhere I could. Tried to slash him and he tried to defend himself but I just stabbed and stabbed and stabbed until he stopped moving.'