‘Did Tryggvi ever go to the others’ apartments – did he visit the other residents, or decide to have a look around? Maybe not at first, but after a bit of time had passed?’
‘Absolutely not. He never took the initiative as far as human interaction was concerned, and in fact he avoided it as much as possible; he always stayed in his own apartment unless he was forced to leave it. The staff definitely weren’t doing their jobs properly if they were allowing him to go visiting – and I very much doubt that was happening. Who says that Tryggvi visited other apartments? Jakob?’ His expression hardened. ‘Are you trying to pin this on my son?’
Thóra shook her head. ‘That wasn’t why I asked. Although their circumstances were different, your son was in the same boat as Jakob, in the sense that starting that fire required organizational abilities that neither of them possessed. We’re not trying to blame Tryggvi. On the other hand, he was male, and I’m currently trying to draw up a list of men who can be exonerated from having fathered the child that was conceived at the care home. I don’t know whether you were told, but Lísa Finnbjörnsdóttir, the young comatose girl, was pregnant.’
A crack appeared in Einvarður’s polished appearance, revealing a glimpse of the man beneath. ‘You’re joking.’
‘No. My jokes are generally in slightly better taste. Actually, I’m surprised that you’re surprised, because according to my information, you were fully informed of it.’
The man grew agitated, raking his fingers through his hair, his eyes wide. ‘I didn’t mean that. I was so surprised that it came out wrong.’ He dropped his hand. ‘I heard about it after the fire occurred and the investigation started. I just haven’t been able to absorb it still. My apologies for how ridiculous that sounded.’
‘You do know that there’s DNA from the foetus, or at least there was, but they need genetic material from the father to compare it with.’
‘You’re welcome to take a sample from me to rule me out. I personally suggested that the same be done with my son – I even paid for it out of my own pocket.’ He flushed slightly at his hairline. ‘The girl’s parents asked me to help them put a stop to any further investigation of this case and I pulled a few strings. In order to prevent any possible suspicion later on that I’d done something out of line, I wanted it to be quite clear that what I was doing had nothing to do with trying to cover Tryggvi’s tracks. The results of my son’s test also effectively ruled me out as the child’s father; there was too little correspondence between Tryggvi’s DNA and that of the foetus. But as I say, if you want to run another test I’m happy to cooperate.’
This ruling-out made sense as long as Tryggvi was definitely Einvarður’s son; Thóra decided not to raise the possibility that he wasn’t. ‘But why did you take it upon yourself to do such a thing for the girl’s parents? It’s an odd thing to propose in a matter that serious.’
‘I just wasn’t completely myself at the time. That’s really all I can tell you. Well, that and maybe the fact that the girl’s parents were grief-stricken and pursued it so insistently. I feel I must mention that I didn’t act in isolation; the police knew all about it, as well as the prosecutor. We all agreed unanimously that I should grant their request. Her father had already been cleared of any suspicion.’ Einvarður appeared very keen to convince them that he had been guided purely by the parents’ wishes, and it was indeed difficult to imagine what other reason he might have had. Unless he’d been trying to ensure that Jakob’s investigation and trial should proceed as quickly as possible. ‘Believe me, I’ll do anything I can for you if it helps uncover who abused this young woman; and indeed if it reveals that someone other than Jakob started the fire. I didn’t connect these two appalling incidents at the time, but I can completely see where you’re going with this inves-tigation and why.’
‘All and any help is much appreciated, of course. If you happen to think of anything, now that you’ve had a bit of time to distance yourself from these events…’
‘Is it all right if I tell my wife about Lísa? She spent more time there than I did and she might have noticed something or be able to think of something. She took the death of our son very badly and it didn’t do anything to help her condition; my wife is terribly sensitive.’
‘I don’t see why not, as long as she keeps the information to herself. If your wife is willing to speak to me herself, that would also be very much appreciated.’
‘That’s easy. She’s generally at home. She stopped working when Tryggvi was born and our daughter still lives with us, so that arrangement still suits her even though things are easier and calmer for her than when Tryggvi was alive. I’ll ask her to call you.’ He took the business card Thóra handed him. ‘Have you spoken to the filmmaker?’
‘Which filmmaker?’ Thóra had seen no mention of a filmmaker either in the court documents or in anything else she’d read.
‘There was a young man gathering material for a documentary about the centre’s work. It was all approved by the Regional Office and was going well, I think. The man was there all the time and I’m sure he has a lot of material you might be able to access. Who knows – maybe there’ll be something of use to you buried in there somewhere. And what’s more, I bet he got a good sense of what it was like there in relation to other similar homes. I’m sure he could reassure you that everything was just fine.’ With this, Einvarður skilfully avoided any further discussion of what might have happened to Lísa. No doubt he realized how callous this seemed because he quickly added, in a graver tone: ‘I hope you find the person who did this to Lísa, and if Jakob is innocent of starting the fire, I would be the first to celebrate if you find the bastard responsible. On the other hand, if Jakob is guilty, I sincerely hope that he’s locked up in Sogn until the day he dies.’
CHAPTER 12
Monday, 11 January 2010
Thóra left their meeting with Tryggvi’s father feeling reasonably pleased. Not much new information had emerged, of course, but Einvarður had promised to be ready to assist her, which was something of a step forward. If she needed data or information, he’d see that she got it. Thóra reflected that it must be nice being part of that mysterious elite who always seemed to get their own way. Einvarður’s offer wasn’t subject to any provisos that this information would depend on others’ consent, nor was it an offer to explore whether he could help in some way. He simply intended to help them out, and appeared convinced that he’d be able to do so. Thóra was unused to this level of cooperation and thought for a moment that she’d misunderstood him – not because of his being so certain that he could get hold of what she needed, but because he appeared to be prepared to hand the material over unconditionally. Useful information went hand in hand with power, which people were seldom keen to share with others. Thus it could be difficult to extract it from certain people, and it was rare to hear of it being served up on a plate. The more usual scenario would have been for the man to make her chase him before he reluctantly shared the information in order to emphasize his own importance. Maybe Einvarður’s amen-ability was the reason he hadn’t tried to claw his way up the ladder in politics.
In an additional act of collaboration, before saying goodbye to Thóra and Matthew, Einvarður had called his wife and informed her that she should follow his example and provide Thóra with all the assistance she might need. Thóra sat listening but adopted the expression of someone who, though forced to be in earshot of a couple’s conversation, is so distracted that it goes completely in one ear and out the other. Of course, she heard everything that Einvarður said as well as the faint sound of his wife’s replies, though she couldn’t distinguish the individual words. The message was clearly delivered as an instruction, yet it was completely free of any unpleasant or bullying tone. Nevertheless, it was abundantly clear that Einvarður expected his wishes to be followed. He then informed Thóra and Matthew that Fanndís could meet them whenever it suited them, scribbled her mobile number on a slip of paper and handed it to Thóra. As she took hold of it, instead of releasing his grip on it, he looked resolutely into her eyes. ‘We all want the right man to be convicted – in fact I insist upon it.’ Once he’d made his declaration, he let go of the paper and Thóra sat there unsure about whether his comment was meant generally, or was directed at her alone. As they parted, she muttered something about that being fair enough.