Neither Erla nor Huldar said anything, though Thórdur paused here to give them a chance to respond. Perhaps he wanted an apology, or an explanation. In the end he looked down again and continued his story, his eyes on his hands.
‘I was haunted by the picture of that bed. For years. All through the dark times my wife and I went through after Maren’s death and during our divorce. We didn’t go back to Norway and neither of us was capable of working for some time afterwards. We started fighting a lot too. But whatever happened, I couldn’t get the image of that headboard out of my mind. As time went by, I began to forget about it and would probably have stopped thinking about it altogether if fate hadn’t thrown it my way just over a year ago.’
Thórdur broke off for a sip of water. It must have been lukewarm by now but he gave no sign of minding.
‘I was called up to a flat on the top floor of the building because some nutter was trying to break down the door of a resident who’d recently moved in – Helgi, in other words. I managed to get the man into the lift and take him down to the lobby, although he was beside himself with rage. He kept ranting about his wife and the bastard she’d cheated on him with. I tried to calm him down and finally got it out of him that he believed Helgi was the man. The bastard hadn’t just slept with his wife, he’d actually put up a video of it online. The man showed me a printout of a still from a video showing a couple having sex. He claimed the woman with Helgi was his wife. I couldn’t stop staring at the picture – not at the naked couple but at the headboard. I was convinced it was the same bed and the same room as in the photo on Maren’s phone.’
Huldar glanced sideways at Erla but she was silent and plainly had no intention of explaining to Thórdur how the video had ended up on a file-sharing site. She was in no hurry to correct his misapprehension that Helgi had been responsible. He would find out in due course that it hadn’t been him. Ironically, the entire disastrous chain of events that had claimed the lives of Helgi and Margeir had been sparked by Thormar’s then thirteen-year-old stepson Fannar. Though, of course, you could argue that it was ultimately Thormar’s fault for his carelessness in leaving the forum open on his computer where the teenager could find it. You could just imagine the boy’s glee, especially when he came across a video featuring his new teacher, Sigurlaug Lára.
Instead of being satisfied with watching it, the kid had copied the video and posted it to a file-sharing site, presumably so his classmates could enjoy his incredible find too. His motivation would become clearer once they had spoken to him, though this wouldn’t be happening any time soon: the police had more than enough on their plates right now. As the boy was still a minor, he would presumably get off lightly, apart from having to admit to what he’d done in front of his mother. It was possible that children’s services would be alerted, and that he would be sent for therapy for juveniles with impulse-control disorders. Huldar certainly hoped so. The boy’s action had had such devastating consequences that he couldn’t be allowed to get away with it.
‘Go on,’ Erla prompted Thórdur, whose mind, like Huldar’s, had momentarily wandered. The room was so stuffy and the atmosphere so subdued that it was hard to stay focused.
Thórdur picked up where he’d left off. He had invited Margeir into his flat in the hope of learning more about the bed in the video and there he had heard the tale that Margeir had, in his own words, ‘beaten out of his slut of a wife’, after she had tried to wriggle out of explaining why she’d given up work. He had forced her to show him the video that had made it impossible for her to continue as a teacher. It had appeared on the site fairly recently. Thórdur had managed to calm Margeir down enough to get him to show him the website in question, though first he’d had to listen to an incoherent rant about how Helgi probably ran it himself. Thórdur hadn’t believed this, since most of the posts were transparently from much younger men or boys.
After this, Thórdur had sent Margeir home. But his curiosity had been roused and after lying awake for much of the night, he had decided to enter Helgi’s flat using his master key to see if he could find any evidence linking his daughter to the new tenant. And he was lucky. It turned out that Thormar wasn’t the only one who was careless about security. Helgi had left his desktop computer on and unlocked, with the forum open. Acting fast, Thórdur had created a special access for himself, then made a quick exit. From then on he had been able to see the posts on the forum whenever he wanted. Helgi’s fate was sealed when Thórdur finally came across the video showing the gang rape of his daughter. After that, he became obsessed with thoughts of revenge.
Thórdur was growing hoarse. He paused to drink the last few drops of water in his glass, swallowed, then resumed, looking increasingly haggard: ‘It took me several months to come up with a plan. But once it was fully formed, I realised I couldn’t do it alone. I found Margeir’s number and invited him to meet me for coffee, since he’d seemed crazy enough to be willing to help. I didn’t know how to introduce the subject at first but when I did, he jumped at the idea.’
The lawyer coughed, leant over to his client and whispered in his ear. But Thórdur merely pulled a face and went on with his story: ‘Two weeks ago we got together to take the plank out to the Gallows Rock, with the noose tied around it ready to go. Not many people visit in winter, so I didn’t think anyone would notice it and wonder what it was doing there. And I was right. We had to leave it a while before putting the rest of the plan into action, in case we’d been spotted. Then all we had to do was wait. Margeir said he knew of a car we could use that couldn’t be traced to him, and said he could supply the Rohypnol too. Everything was in place. Helgi came home from abroad and when I overheard him in the corridor talking on the phone and making plans to go out on Saturday night, I reckoned the moment had come. Margeir delivered the drug and the car, a beaten-up Land Cruiser, to me in the morning and I trailed Helgi into town that evening. I waited near the restaurant, then followed him up to 101 Bar. After about an hour I sent him a suggestive message from a withheld number, pretending to be a woman and asking him to meet me at Kex. He left the pub soon afterwards and I parked on Vitastígur, where I could watch the entrance to Kex. Then I waited. Eventually he turned up and I got out, said hello and offered him a beer that I’d spiked with Rohypnol. But I couldn’t persuade him to get in the car with me, so I had to let him go. The moment he left, I sent him another text, supposedly from the same woman, saying I’d got bored of waiting and moved on. When I drove up to him outside Kex he was reading the message, and after that he accepted a lift.’
Thórdur kept talking, although his voice was so husky by now that it sounded as if his vocal cords would give out any minute. Huldar forced himself to listen, fighting off an overpowering drowsiness that made him long to close his eyes, switch off and go to sleep. In spite of his best efforts, he nearly did nod off as Thórdur repeated yet again, almost word for word, his description of the drive out to Álftanes and the walk through the lava-field. It was easier to stay awake during the account of how Margeir had come to die.
‘We’d agreed to meet at Sudurhlíd after I’d … you know …’
Neither Erla, Huldar nor the lawyer made it any easier for the man by acknowledging that they knew what he was referring to. After a moment, Thórdur continued: ‘I’d taken a bunch of keys out of Helgi’s pocket and the ones to the flat turned out to be on it. Margeir was desperate to get a look at the place. But when we met there, what do I find but the idiot has brought along his wife and kid. The guy was completely off his trolley. The woman was sitting in the front seat and the little boy was asleep in the back. Of course, I got a terrible shock when I saw them because that wasn’t what we’d agreed to at all. For one thing, his wife had nothing to lose by going to the police, whereas he and I were both equally guilty, so neither of us was likely to talk. If you ask me, Margeir had a screw loose. We had a row in the car park but it was no good, the damage was done. He said he’d brought her along to teach her a lesson, and he’d been forced to
bring his son too because he couldn’t leave him alone at home. The boy had been asleep and hardly stirred when he was moved, so there was nothing to worry about. He said he’d make sure his wife didn’t say a word either. From what I could understand, he was planning to drag her upstairs and rape her in the bed where she’d cheated on him. I was sickened by the idea and things only got worse when the woman got out of the car and I saw that she was heavily pregnant. Margeir chased her back in again, telling her not to interrupt when two men were talking.’
Thórdur’s shoulders, which had been sagging ever lower during his account, now straightened up again and his voice gained strength, as if he were describing an act of heroism: ‘I was there to avenge the rape that had led my daughter to her death. No way was I going to stand back and do nothing while another equally innocent woman suffered the same fate. So I did the only honourable thing in the circumstances. I tricked Margeir into going upstairs with me and I killed him. Hit him on the back of the head with a heavy toolbox that happened to be lying on the floor.’
‘What happened to it?’ Erla got in before Huldar, who had been wondering the same thing. Forensics hadn’t found any toolbox in the flat. In fact, Huldar was rather surprised that Helgi should have owned such a thing since he’d automatically pigeonholed him, together with his friends, as the kind of man who didn’t own so much as a drill.
‘I put it in the car and later I threw it in the sea, off Sæbraut, near the Sólfar sculpture.’ Seeming irritated by this interruption, Thórdur quickly resumed his story, as if to prevent Erla and Huldar from throwing him off his stride with any more questions: ‘Anyway, before I killed Margeir, I got a kick out of telling him that I’d deviated from our plan. Instead of putting the suicide note I’d made Helgi sign in his pocket, I’d stapled it to his chest with a nail gun. Margeir totally lost it at that point, which meant he was off his guard. The fact he couldn’t control his temper was what brought him down in the end. There’s a kind of poetic justice to that, don’t you think?’
When none of them reacted, Thórdur shrugged. ‘What did you think of his suicide note, by the way? I don’t suppose you were taken in by the idea that a suicidal man would nail a note to his own chest?’
‘The letter blew away so we never saw it.’ Erla didn’t ask what it had contained – it didn’t matter. ‘Do you really expect us to believe that you’d made up your mind in advance to nail the suicide note to his chest? That you didn’t lose control once you’d got the man you hated in your power? It must have been hard having to act as if you liked him for all those months. Having to fix a sycophantic smile on your face whenever he asked you to help him. Accepting the tips and pretending to be oh-so-grateful.’
‘I didn’t lose control. I knew precisely what I was doing.’
Thórdur’s lawyer groaned in despair at this declaration.
Ignoring him, Thórdur persisted: ‘Unlike Margeir, I never expected to get away with it. He insisted on the suicide note, but I didn’t care if it was obvious that it was murder. I did it deliberately. I wanted to shake up Helgi’s mates, those fucking creeps who took part in humiliating my daughter. The only reason I didn’t give myself up immediately was because I was toying with the idea of bumping them off as well. I prised their names out of Helgi once the drug had taken effect. But that plan came to nothing when Margeir turned up with his wife. That’s partly why I was so shocked to see her there. And why I took her with me when I left Sudurhlíd. If I’d let her go, it would have put paid to my dream of getting revenge on the others. In the end all I managed to do was frighten the sick bastards. Still, it can wait. How long will I have to be in jail?’
The lawyer banged the table. ‘That’s enough. My client is tired and doesn’t know what he’s saying. I insist we take a break.’
Erla agreed. They already knew the rest.
Huldar grabbed the chance to step outside and smoke the three cigarettes he’d promised himself. But in the event one was enough. It didn’t live up to expectations, perhaps because of the acid taste in his mouth.
Chapter 33
Freyja hadn’t contributed much to the conversation. She’d had difficulty following Siggi’s mother’s story and didn’t really know what the police expected of her. Erla, on the other hand, seemed to have no problem understanding the pregnant woman’s account, but then she knew more about the background. They were standing by the bed where Sigurlaug Lára was lying looking worryingly fragile, her face white apart from the grazed red skin around her mouth and the ugly scar on her temple. The latter looked older, and must have been from the wound that had taken her to A&E just after Christmas. Freyja asked no questions, either about the abrasions around her mouth or the scar. The poor woman had more than enough on her mind.
She was hooked up to a drip and a number of other machines monitoring everything that could be monitored. Her pregnancy bump rose in a high mound under the blanket. At one point, Freyja had noticed a slow but definite stirring in the mound and hurriedly looked away so as not to be caught staring. She also averted her gaze from the grimy toy rabbit that was tucked under the woman’s arm. Neither Sigurlaug nor Erla had referred to it, but Freyja guessed it was the cuddly toy Siggi had mentioned at the Children’s House.
When Sigurlaug closed her eyes, the dark circles around them were less obvious and she looked a little better; not well, but at least no longer at death’s door. The police had told Freyja confidentially that the woman had been held prisoner for four days in the boiler room in the basement of the block of flats where Siggi had been found. She’d been there since the early hours of Sunday morning, initially knocked out by Rohypnol. When the effects of the drug wore off, the perpetrator had resorted to taping her mouth shut and had threatened to harm her child if she made the slightest sound. Sigurlaug was still very muddled, unsure when she had woken from her drugged stupor, though she thought it must have been at least a couple of days ago. Since the boiler room where she had been lying chained to the wall was windowless, she’d had no way of knowing how much time had passed. She said she’d slept most of the time, dipping in and out of consciousness once the drug had worn off. The boiler room was hot and there had been a horrible smell from the bucket she had been forced to use as a toilet, so in the circumstances it had been best to try and sleep.
‘It would really help us if you could stay awake just a bit longer. We need to piece together what happened before we apply to take your kidnapper into custody. If we get it over with now, you can see Siggi for a little while afterwards. He’s longing to see you.’
At her son’s name, the woman opened her eyes and pulled herself up a little higher against the pillows, wincing from the needle in her arm. ‘When can I see my son? Can’t I see him now?’ She looked from Erla to Freyja and back again, her gaze no longer drowsy but suddenly wide awake, her face a mask of terror. ‘Is there something wrong? Has something happened to him?’
Erla was quick to reassure her. ‘No, he’s OK. The moment we’re finished you can see him for yourself. I promise you he’s absolutely fine.’
Sigurlaug calmed down a little on hearing this but didn’t seem convinced. It was as if she didn’t entirely trust Freyja and Erla, which was only natural given what she’d endured over the last four days. She was in such a fragile state that Freyja wondered if she should discreetly nudge Erla and suggest they come back tomorrow morning. But it wasn’t her decision and if the doctors and nurses judged that Sigurlaug was up to being interviewed, presumably they must know. Her own role seemed to be that of an onlooker, no more. It wasn’t as if she was working for the police or officially involved in the investigation.
It was an hour since the Child Protection Agency had called and asked Freyja to go up to the National Hospital as their representative, to assess whether it was safe to let Siggi see his mother now that she had been found. In particular, she needed to make sure the woman was fully conscious and in her right mind. Since the boy’s father had apparently been found dead, they needed to ensure tha
t this shocking news was broken to the child in an appropriate manner.
Freyja had explained that the timing was awkward as she was babysitting and about to put Saga to bed. But she couldn’t really refuse their request since no one else who knew the boy was available. They told her she could take Saga with her to the hospital and that the police would look after her.
Strictly speaking, Freyja no longer needed to do these extra shifts since she had taken the plunge and signed the rental contract with Baldur’s friend Tobbi. In the end, the prospect of having a place to live had outweighed her horror of the snake. But she cared about Siggi and would hate to think that her refusal might delay the reunion between mother and son. The Child Protection Agency also wanted her to establish whether Siggi’s mother was willing for him to go to his grandmother, which would mean one less night in temporary care for him. As his legal guardian, his mother was free to decide who should look after him.
In the event, it had all taken far longer than expected. Huldar and Erla had met Freyja at the hospital, though not equally warmly. Huldar had taken Saga while Freyja spoke briefly to Sigurlaug. It hadn’t taken her long to conclude that it was perfectly safe for Siggi to come and visit his mother at the hospital, and to confirm that she did indeed want him to go to his grandmother. But when Erla and Huldar came to take over, they encountered a hitch.
Sigurlaug refused point blank to allow a man in her room.
Since Erla needed a witness in order to take the woman’s statement, she had no choice but to ask Freyja to stand in, however much it pained her. Huldar promised to look after Saga in the meantime and the little girl seemed perfectly happy with this arrangement, even holding out her arms to him when he came to take her back from Freyja. Throughout the interview, Freyja’s ears were strained for the slightest complaint from outside the room but all she’d heard was Saga chuckling. She couldn’t begin to imagine what had triggered this rare phenomenon. Perhaps a patient had fallen flat on their face in front of her.
Gallows Rock - Freyja and Huldar Series 04 (2020) Page 30