“Do you think he’s the man in the lake?” Frau Muller asked.
“We don’t have any idea,” Sigurdur Oli said. They had not told the embassy any details regarding the discovery. He looked at Erlendur, who nodded.
“The skeleton we found,” Sigurdur Oli said, “was tied to a Russian listening device dating from the 1960s.”
“I see,” Frau Muller said thoughtfully. “A Russian device? So what? What significance does that have?”
“There are a number of possibilities,” Sigurdur Oli said.
“Could the device have come from the East German embassy or delegation or whatever you call it?” Erlendur asked.
“Of course,” Frau Muller said. “The Warsaw Pact countries cooperated very closely, including in the field of espionage.”
“When Germany was unified,” Erlendur said, “and the embassies here in Reykjavik were merged, did you find any devices like that in the hands of the East Germans?”
“We didn’t merge,” Frau Muller said. “The East German one was dissolved without our knowledge. But I’ll check about the devices.”
“What do you read into finding a Russian listening device with the skeleton?” Sigurdur Oli asked.
“I can’t say,” Frau Muller answered. “It’s not my job to speculate.”
“No, right,” Sigurdur Oli said. “But all we have is speculation, so…”
Erlendur put his hand in his jacket pocket and clutched his cigarette packet. He did not dare take it out of his pocket.
“What did you do wrong?” he asked.
“What do you mean, what did I do wrong?” Frau Muller said.
“Why were you sent to this dreadful country? To the arsehole of the world?”
Frau Muller gave a smile which Erlendur thought was rather ambiguous.
“Do you think that’s an appropriate question?” she asked. “I am the German ambassador to Iceland, remember.”
Erlendur shrugged.
“Sorry,” Erlendur said, “but you described a diplomatic job here as being some kind of punishment. But it’s none of my business, of course.”
An awkward silence descended upon the office until Sigurdur Oli made a move, cleared his throat and thanked her for her assistance. Frau Muller said coldly that she would be in contact if anything came to light about Lothar Weiser that might prove useful. They could tell from the tone of her voice that she would not be running to the nearest telephone.
When they were outside the embassy they discussed whether there might have been Icelandic students in Leipzig who became acquainted with Lothar Weiser. Sigurdur Oli said he would look into it.
“Weren’t you a bit rude to her?” he asked.
“That arsehole-of-the-world stuff gets on my nerves,” Erlendur said and lit a long-awaited cigarette.
24
When Erlendur got home from the office that evening, Sindri Snaer was waiting for him in his flat. He was sleeping on the sofa but when Erlendur came in he woke up.
“Where have you been hiding?” Erlendur asked.
“Around,” Sindri Snaer said, sitting up.
“Have you had anything to eat?”
“No, it’s okay.”
Erlendur took out some rye bread, lamb pate and butter, and made coffee. Sindri said he was not hungry but Erlendur noticed how he wolfed down the pate and bread. He put some cheese on the table and that vanished too.
“Do you know anything about Eva Lind?” Erlendur asked over a cup of coffee when Sindri Snaer’s hunger seemed to have been satisfied.
“Yes,” he said, “I spoke to her.”
“Is she all right?”
“Sort of,” Sindri said and produced a packet of cigarettes. Erlendur did likewise. Sindri lit his father’s cigarette with a cheap lighter. “I think it’s been a long time since Eva was all right,” he said.
They sat smoking and not speaking over their black coffee.
“Why is it so dark in here?” Sindri asked, looking into the living room where the thick curtains kept the evening sun at bay.
“It’s too bright outside,” Erlendur said. “In the evenings and at night,” he added, after a short pause. He did not go into the matter any further. He did not tell Sindri that he much preferred short days and pitch darkness to perpetual sunshine and the endless light it radiated. He did not know himself the reason for it. Did not know why he felt better in dark winters than during bright summers.
“Where did you dredge her up?” he asked. “Where did you find Eva?”
“She texted me. I phoned her. We’ve always kept in touch, even when I was away from the city. We’ve always got on well.”
He stopped talking and looked at his father.
“Eva’s a good soul,” he said.
“Yes,” Erlendur said.
“Seriously,” Sindri said. “If you’d known her when she was…”
“You don’t have to tell me anything about it,” Erlendur said, not realising how curt he sounded. “I know all about that.”
Sindri sat in silence, watching his father. Then he stubbed out his cigarette. Erlendur did the same. Sindri stood up.
“Thanks for the coffee,” he said.
“Are you leaving?” Erlendur said, standing up too and following Sindri out of the kitchen. “Where are you going?”
Sindri did not answer. He took his scruffy denim jacket from the chair and put it on. Erlendur watched him. He did not want Sindri to leave in a temper.
“I didn’t mean to…” he began. “It’s just that… Eva’s so… I know you’re good friends.”
“What do you think you know about Eva?” Sindri asked. “Why do you reckon you know anything about Eva?”
“Don’t make a martyr out of her,” Erlendur said. “She doesn’t deserve it. And she wouldn’t want you to either.”
“I’m not,” Sindri said, “but don’t kid yourself that you know Eva. Don’t think that. And what do you know about what she deserves?”
“I know she’s a bloody junkie,” Erlendur snarled. “Is there anything else I need to know? She does nothing about sorting herself out. You know she had a miscarriage. The doctors said it was a mercy after all the dope she took during her pregnancy. Don’t get on a high horse about your sister. That idiot’s lost the plot yet again and I can’t be bothered to go through all that crap any more.”
Sindri had opened the door and was halfway out onto the landing. He paused and looked back at Erlendur. Then he turned round, went back into the flat and closed the door. He walked over to him.
“Put myself on a high horse about my sister?” he said.
“You have to be realistic,” Erlendur said. “That’s all I’m saying. For as long as she doesn’t want to do anything to help herself, there’s bugger all we can do.”
“I remember Eva well when she wasn’t on drugs,” Sindri said. “Do you remember her?”
He had gone right up close to his father and Erlendur could see the anger in his movements, his face, his eyes.
“Do you remember Eva when she wasn’t doing drugs?” he repeated.
“No,” Erlendur said. “I don’t. You know that perfectly well.”
“Yes, I know that perfectly well,” Sindri said.
“Don’t start preaching any bollocks to me,” Erlendur said. “She’s done plenty of that.”
“Bollocks?” Sindri said. “Are we just bollocks?”
“Jesus Christ,” Erlendur groaned. “Stop it. I don’t want to argue with you. I don’t want to argue with her and I certainly don’t want to argue about her.”
“You don’t know anything, do you?” Sindri said. “I saw Eva. The day before yesterday. She’s with a bloke called Eddi who’s ten, fifteen years older than her. He was out of his head. He was going to stab me because he thought I was a thug. Thought I’d come to collect a debt. They both deal but they do a lot of stuff too, then they need more and the heavies come round for the money. People are after them now. Maybe you know this Eddi, since you’re a cop. Eva didn’t want to tell me where she’s crashing — she’s scared shitless. They’re in some den near the city centre. Eddi supplies her with dope and she loves him. I’ve never seen such true love. Get it? He’s her dealer. She was dirty — no, she was filthy. And you know what she wanted to know?”