“ “About the bird,” he said. “What bird?” “The one I dreamed about,” he said. “The bird that died.””
Agnes put the cigarette butt in her pocket and shut the window. It was cold indoors by now and she shivered when she stood up. A storm was forecast for that evening and night.
“I didn’t ask him any more about it,” she said. “Children often say things like that. I didn’t see him again until lunchtime. In the break and at mealtime. I didn’t notice him in particular. They had an art lesson that morning, maybe you should talk to Brynhildur too. Then they had a double period with me after lunch. The last lesson was gym with Vilhjalmur. He was Elias’s last teacher today.”
“He’s next on the list,” Sigurdur Oli said. “Can you tell me anything about…” He browsed through his notebook looking for the name that the principal had given him. “Kjartan, the Icelandic teacher?”
“Kjartan’s not exactly a barrel of laughs,” Agnes said, “as you’ll soon discover for yourself. He doesn’t keep his views to himself. Quite a pain in the neck really. A former sports star. He used to play handball, then something happened to him. I don’t know exactly what. He’s not stupid though. He mainly teaches the older children.”
With a nod, Sigurdur Oli put his notebook in his jacket and then said goodbye to Agnes. On his way out to the car, his mobile rang. It was his wife Bergthora. She had seen the news on television and knew he would be late home.
“It’s awful,” she said. “Was he really stabbed?”
“Yes,” Sigurdur Oli said. “I have a lot to do and we don’t know where to begin. Don’t wait up for me.”
“Do you have any idea who did it?”
“No. His brother’s gone missing. His elder brother. He might know something. Erlendur thinks so anyway.”
“That he did it?”
“No, but—”
“Isn’t it more likely that he’s been attacked too? Has Erlendur considered that?”
“I’ll pass that on to him,” Sigurdur Oli said drily. Sometimes Bergthora inadvertently revealed that she had more faith in Erlendur than in her husband when it came to criminal investigations. Sigurdur Oli knew that she meant well, but it got on his nerves.
He grimaced. A response like that risked provoking Bergthora’s wrath but he was tired and peevish and knew that she wanted him to come home as soon as possible. They had to talk things over. Bergthora’s suggestion. A few days before she had proposed that they should look into the possibility of adopting a child from abroad. They could not have children together. Sigurdur Oli had been unenthusiastic about the idea. Hesitantly, he suggested that they put up with the status quo for the time being. Their attempts to have a baby had put a strain on their relationship. Sigurdur Oli wanted them to have a year free of worries about children or adoption. Bergthora was more impatient. She yearned to have a baby.
“Oh, of course I shouldn’t go sticking my nose in,” she said over the phone.
“It’s perfectly feasible that his brother was attacked too,” Sigurdur Oli said. “We’re examining all the possibilities.”
There was silence on the line.
“Has Erlendur found that woman?” Bergthora eventually asked.
“No. She’s still missing.”
“Do you know any more about that case?”
“Not really.”
“If I’m asleep, will you wake me up when you get home?”
“I’ll do that,” Sigurdur Oli said, and they rang off.
8
The boys were playing indoor football with great zeal. They fought over every single ball and did not flinch from playing dirty. Sigurdur Oli saw one of them go in for a sliding tackle that could have broken his opponent’s leg. When the victim crashed to the floor he yelled at the top of his voice and clutched his ankle.
“Watch out, lads!” the coach shouted into the pitch. “None of that, Geiri! Come on, Raggi,” he called to the boy who was climbing to his feet after the tackle.
He sent on a substitute for Raggi and the game continued just as violently as before. There were far more boys at football practice than could play at once, so the coach made frequent substitutions. Sigurdur Oli watched from the sidelines. The coach was Vilhjalmur, Elias’s sports teacher. He had an extra part-time job as a boys” football trainer, as his wife had told Sigurdur Oli when he stood on their doorstep. She had directed him to the sports hall.
The practice was coming to an end. Vilhjalmur blew the whistle that hung around his neck and a boy who seemed unhappy with the result gave the ball an almighty kick, hitting one of his teammates on the back of the head. After some commotion, Vilhjalmur blew his whistle again and called out to the boys to stop that nonsense and get along to the showers. The two boys stopped their brawling.
“Isn’t that a bit rough?” Sigurdur Oli asked as he walked over to Vilhjalmur. The boys stared at the policeman. They had never seen such a well-dressed man in the hall before.
“They get quite boisterous sometimes,” Vilhjalmur said, shaking Sigurdur Oli’s hand. A short, chubby man aged about thirty, he gathered up the goalpost cones and balls and threw them into a storeroom that he then locked. “These kids need toughening up. They come here fat and lazy from pizza and computer games and I get them to take some exercise. Are you here about Elias?” he said.
“You were his last teacher today, I understand,” Sigurdur Oli said.
Vilhjalmur had heard about the murder and said he could hardly believe the news.
“You feel completely thrown by something like this,” he said. “Elias was a great kid — dedicated to sport. I think he really enjoyed playing football. I don’t know what to say.”
“Did you notice anything special or unusual about him today?”
“It was just a normal day. I made them run a bit and vault over the box, then we split them up into teams. They enjoy football most. Handball too.”
“Did Elias go straight home from school, do you think?”
“I have no idea where he went,” Vilhjalmur said.
“Was he the last to leave?”
“Elias was always the last to leave,” Vilhjalmur said.
“Was he a “flight attendant”?”
Are you from the Westman Islands too?”
“No. Not exactly. You’re … ?”
“We moved here when I was twelve.”
“Was Elias hanging around then, or … ?”
“That’s just the way he was,” Vilhjalmur said. “He took a long time to leave. He was slow at changing his clothes. He sort of dithered about and you had to chivvy him along.”
“What was he doing then?”
“Just preoccupied, in a world of his own.”
“Today too?”
“Probably, though I didn’t particularly notice. I had to rush off to a meeting.”
“Did you see anyone waiting for him outside? Notice if he met anyone? Did he seem afraid to go home? Could you sense anything like that about him?”
“No, nothing. I didn’t see anything unusual outside. The kids were heading off home. I don’t think anyone was waiting for him. But then, I wasn’t thinking along those lines. You don’t think about that sort of thing.”
“Not until afterwards,” Sigurdur Oli said.
“Yes, of course. But as I say, I didn’t notice anything unusual. He displayed no signs of fear during the lesson. Didn’t say anything to me. He was just the same as always. After all, nothing of that kind has ever happened here before. Never. I can’t understand anyone wanting to attack Elias, simply can’t understand it. It’s horrific”