“What do you mean, do?” his mother said.
“When he comes back,” Simon said, noticing that Mikkelina and Tomas had stopped playing cards and were now watching him.
“There’s plenty of time to think about that,” their mother said. “He won’t be back for a while.”
“But what are you going to do?” Mikkelina and Tomas turned their heads from Simon to their mother.
She looked at Simon, then at the other two.
“He’s going to help us,” she said.
“Who?” Simon said.
“Dave. He’s going to help us.”
“What’s he going to do?” Simon looked at his mother, trying to work out what she meant. She looked him straight in the eye.
“Dave knows about that sort of person. He knows how to get rid of them.”
“What’s he going to do?” Simon repeated.
“Don’t worry about it,” his mother replied.
“Is he going to get rid of him for us?”
“Yes.”
“How?”
“I don’t know. The less we know, the better, he says, and I shouldn’t even be telling you this. Maybe he’ll talk to him. Scare him into leaving us alone. He says he has friends in the army who can help him if need be.”
“But what if Dave leaves?”
“Leaves?”
“If he leaves Iceland,” Simon said. “He won’t always be here. He’s a soldier. They’re always sending troops away. Posting new ones to the barracks. What if he leaves? What will we do then?”
She looked at her son.
“We’ll find a way,” she said in a low voice. “We’ll find a way then.”
19
Sigurdur Oli phoned Erlendur, told him about his meeting with Elsa and how she thought that another man — who had got Benjamin’s fiancee pregnant — was involved; his identity was unknown. They talked the matter over for a while and Erlendur told Sigurdur Oli what he had found out from the ex-serviceman, Ed Hunter, about the theft from the depot and how a family man from the hill had been arrested for his part in it. Ed believed that the man’s wife had been the victim of domestic violence, which corroborated the account given by Hoskuldur, who had heard it from Benjamin.
“All those people are dead and buried long ago,” Sigurdur Oli said wearily. “I don’t know why we’re chasing them. It’s like hunting ghosts. We’ll never meet any of them and talk to them. They’re all just part of a ghost story.”
“Are you talking about the green woman on the hill?” Erlendur asked.
“Elinborg said Robert had seen Solveig’s ghost wearing a green coat, so we’re involved in a genuine ghost hunt.”
“But don’t you want to know who’s in that grave with one hand sticking up in the air as if they were buried alive?”
“I’ve spent two days locked in a filthy cellar and I couldn’t care less,” Sigurdur Oli said. “Couldn’t care less about all this old bollocks,” he growled, and hung up.
As ever, Erlendur’s mind was on Eva Lind, who was lying in intensive care and scarcely expected to live. He was deep in thought about the last argument they had had in his flat, two months before. It was still winter then, with heavy snow, dark and cold. He was not intending to argue with her. He hadn’t planned to lose his temper. But she would not give an inch. Any more than usual.
“You can’t do that to the baby,” he said in yet another effort to persuade her. He assumed that she was five months pregnant. She had pulled herself together when she found out she was pregnant and, after two attempts, looked as though she would manage to kick her drug habit. He gave her all the support he could, but they both knew that it carried little weight and that their relationship was such that the less he involved himself, the more likely she was to succeed. Eva Lind had an ambivalent attitude towards her father. She sought his company, but found fault with everything about him.
“What do you know about that?” she said. “What do you know about children? Sure I can have my baby. And I’m going to have my baby by myself.”
He did not know whether she was using drugs or alcohol or a combination of the two, but she was hardly in her right mind when he opened the door for her and let her in. She did not sit on his sofa, she fell onto it. Her belly protruded beneath the unzipped leather jacket, her pregnancy was becoming visible. She was only wearing a thin T-shirt underneath. Outside, the temperature was at least -10degC.
“I thought we’d…”
“We haven’t anything,” she interrupted. “You and me. We haven’t anything.”
“I thought you’d decided to take care of your baby. Make sure nothing happened to it. Make sure the drugs didn’t affect it. You were going to quit, but you’re probably above that. You’re probably above taking proper care of your child.”
“Shut up.”
“Why did you come here?”
“I don’t know.”
“It’s your conscience. Isn’t it? Your conscience is gnawing at you, and you expect my sympathy for the awful state you’re in. That’s why you come here. To get some pity and to feel better about yourself.”
“Right on. This is just the place to come if you want a conscience, Saint Arsehole.”
“You’d decided the name. You remember? If it’s a girl.”
“You decided it. Not me. You. Like always. You decide everything. If you want to leave then you just leave, don’t give a shit about me or anyone else.”
“She’s supposed to be called Audur. You wanted that.”
“Don’t you think I know your game? Don’t you think I can see through you? You’re shit scared… I know what I’ve got in my stomach. I know it’s a human being. I know that. You don’t have to remind me. There’s no need.”
“Good,” Erlendur said. “Sometimes you seem to forget. Forget there’s not just you to think about any more. It’s not just you getting stoned. When you get stoned your baby does too, and gets much more damaged by it than you.”
He paused.
“Maybe it was a mistake,” he said. “Not having an abortion.”
She looked at him.
“Fuck you!”
“Eva…”
“Mum told me. I know exactly what you wanted.”
“What?”
“And you can call her a cheap liar, but I know it’s true.”
“What are you talking about?”
“She said you’d deny it.”
“Deny what?”
“That you didn’t want me.”
“What?”
“You didn’t want me. When you got her pregnant.”
“What did your mother say?”
“That you didn’t want me.”
“She’s lying.”
“You wanted her to have an abortion…”
“That’s a lie…”
“…then you pass judgment on me, no matter how I try. Always judging me.”
“That’s not true. That wasn’t even considered. I don’t know why she told you that, but it’s not true. It wasn’t an option. We never even mentioned it.”
“She knew you’d say that. She warned me.”
“Warned you? When did she tell you all this?”
“When she knew I was pregnant. She said you wanted to send her for an abortion and she said you’d deny it. She said you’d say everything that you’ve just said.”
Eva Lind stood up and walked over towards the door.
“She’s lying, Eva. Believe me. I don’t know why she said that. I know she hates me, but surely not that much. She’s manipulating you against me. You must see that. Saying that sort of thing is… is… it’s repulsive. You can tell her that.”
“Tell her yourself,” Eva Lind shouted. “If you dare.”