28
The following afternoon Erlendur drove once more to the house in Kópavogur and parked at a discreet distance. Since there were no lights in the windows and he could see no sign of Karólína’s car, he assumed that she hadn’t come home from work yet. He lit a cigarette and settled in patiently to wait. He wasn’t sure how he was going to question the woman. He assumed that Karólína and Baldvin would have talked after his last visit to Grafarvogur; they must be involved in some way, though he wasn’t sure exactly how. Perhaps they had picked up where they’d left off when they were both at drama school and she’d still had dreams of stardom. After a lengthy wait, the little Japanese car pulled up in front of the house and Karólína stepped out. She hurried into the house without looking to right or left, carrying an overflowing bag of groceries. Erlendur allowed half an hour to pass before going up to the house and knocking at the door.
When Karólína came to open it she had changed out of her working clothes into a comfortable outfit of fleece, grey tracksuit bottoms and slippers.
‘Are you Karólína?’ Erlendur asked.
‘Yes,’ she said brusquely, as if he were a salesman who was inconveniencing her.
Erlendur introduced himself as a police officer investigating a recent death at Lake Thingvallavatn.
‘A death?’
‘A woman who killed herself at Thingvellir,’ Erlendur said. ‘Might I come in for a moment?’
‘What’s it got to do with me?’ Karólína asked.
She was as tall as Erlendur, with short dark hair above a high domed forehead and finely arched brows over dark blue eyes. As far as he could tell through the fleece and baggy tracksuit bottoms, she was slender, with a long neck and good figure. Her expression was determined, however, and there was a stubbornness or hardness about her face that was not encouraging. He thought he could recognise what Baldvin saw in her but he did not have time to dwell on the thought. Karólína’s question hung in the air.
‘You’ll have known her husband,’ Erlendur said. ‘The woman’s name was María. She was married to a man called Baldvin. I gather that you two went out together when you were both at drama school.’
‘What of it?’
‘I just wanted to have a little chat with you about it.’
Karólína shot a glance down the road at her neighbours’ house. Then, looking back at Erlendur, she said that they might be more comfortable indoors. Erlendur stepped into the hall and she closed the door behind them. The house consisted of a single storey, with a sitting room, dining room with adjoining kitchen, a lavatory and two rooms on the left as one entered from the hall. It was furnished with handsome furniture, had pictures on the walls and smelled of a combination of Icelandic cooking and the sweet scent of cosmetics and perfumed bath salts, which was most concentrated around the lavatory and the other two rooms. One seemed to be a junk room, the other was Karólína’s bedroom. Through the open door Erlendur glimpsed a large bed against one wall, a dressing table with a good-sized mirror, a sizeable wardrobe and a chest of drawers.
Karólína darted into the kitchen and removed a saucepan from the stove. Erlendur had disturbed her in the middle of cooking. The house was pervaded by the rich smell from the kitchen; roast lamb, he thought.
‘I was just making coffee,’ Karólína said when she came back from the kitchen. ‘Can I offer you a cup?’
Erlendur accepted. The rule was always to accept coffee if it was offered. Elínborg had been quick to learn this. Sigurdur Óli still hadn’t grasped the concept.
Karólína came out with two cups of steaming hot coffee. She drank it black, as did Erlendur.
‘Baldvin and I met at drama school in old Jóhannes’s class. God, he could be a swine. Jóhannes, I mean. And a rotten actor. Anyway, Baldvin and I split up when he quit acting and went to study medicine. May I ask why you’re investigating him?’
‘I’m hardly investigating him,’ Erlendur said. ‘But I heard – you know how people gossip – that you two had known each other before and maybe even renewed your acquaintance recently.’
‘Where did you hear that?’
‘I’ve forgotten – I’d have to look it up.’
Karólína smiled.
‘Is it any of your business?’
‘I really don’t know yet,’ Erlendur said.
‘He told me you might drop by,’ she said.
‘Baldvin?’
‘We did pick up the thread again, you’re right. It’s not as if there’s any need to hide the fact. I told him so and he agreed with me. It began again about five years ago. We met at a drama school graduation reunion. Baldvin turned up even though he didn’t graduate with us. He said he was fed up with the old bag – Leonóra, that is, María’s mother. She was living with them.’
‘Why didn’t he end his marriage and move in with you then? It seems as if few things could be easier these days.’
‘He was going to,’ Karólína said. ‘I was so pissed off with the situation that I gave him an ultimatum. But then that bitch Leonóra fell ill and he couldn’t bring himself to do that to María. He wanted to stand by her through her ordeal and he did. My main fear was that their relationship would improve after the old bitch died and in fact he did stop coming to see me. Didn’t have eyes for anyone but María. But he soon got over it.’
‘Is that how Baldvin described Leonóra? As a bitch?’
‘He couldn’t stand her any longer. It got worse over the years. Maybe I should be grateful to her, if I’m mean. He wanted her out of the house but for some reason María had a problem with that.’
‘María and Baldvin didn’t have any children?’
‘Baldvin can’t and María wasn’t interested,’ Karólína said bluntly.
‘When are you two thinking of making your relationship official?’ Erlendur asked.
‘You sound like a country vicar.’
‘I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to…’
‘Baldvin’s a considerate person,’ Karólína said. ‘He wants to wait a whole year. I told him that might be overdoing it a bit. But he won’t budge. Not until after a year at the earliest, he says.’
‘But you’re not happy with that?’
‘Oh, I understand him all right. It’s such a tragedy and all that. We needn’t be in any hurry.’
‘Did María know about your relationship?’
‘Can I ask what you’re investigating? What you’re looking for? Do you think Baldvin did something to her?’
‘Is that what you think?’
‘No way. He wouldn’t be capable of it. He’s a doctor, for Christ’s sake! What makes you think it wasn’t suicide?’
‘I don’t think that,’ Erlendur said.
‘Is this some Swedish survey or…?’
‘You’ve heard about that?’
‘Baldvin heard something. We’ve no idea what’s going on.’
‘I’m just gathering information so that we can close the case,’ Erlendur said. ‘Did you know that he’s inherited three hundred million from his wife?’
‘I only found out recently. He told me the other day. Wasn’t it from some land speculation of her father’s?’
‘Yes – he owned a small plot in Kópavogur that shot up in value. Baldvin’s the sole beneficiary.’
‘Yes, he mentioned something about that. I don’t think he knew anything about it until a short time ago. Or at least that’s what he told me.’
‘I heard that the money came in the nick of time,’ Erlendur said.
‘Really?’
‘He’s pretty seriously in debt.’
‘Baldvin’s been a bit unlucky with some shares he bought, that’s all I know. Some unlucky investment in a construction company that went bust, on top of the debts still outstanding from the surgery that didn’t work out. We don’t talk much about that sort of stuff. At least, we haven’t up to now.’