Arctic Chill

4

Erlendur's mobile rang incessantly. Sigurdur óli gave him a report about his meeting with the principal and said he was on his way to meet the boy's teacher and another member of staff who had spoken out against immigration. Elínborg called to tell him that a witness who lived on the same staircase as Sunee thought she had seen the elder brother earlier that day. The head of forensics quoted the pathologist as saying that the child had been stabbed once, presumably with a fairly sharp instrument, probably a knife.

'What kind of knife?' Erlendur asked.

'The blade would have been quite broad and even thick, but particularly sharp,' the head of forensics said. 'The stabbing need not have required much effort. The boy could have been lying on the ground when he was stabbed. His anorak is dirty on the back and torn too. It looks fairly new, so he may have been involved in a fight. He would have tried to defend himself, as is only to be expected, but the only wound is from the knife, which the pathologist said penetrated his liver. He died from loss of blood.'

'You mean that it didn't take much force for the knife to go in that deep?'

'Conceivably.'

'Even a child or a young person could have done it, for instance? Someone of his own age?'

'It's difficult to say. But it looks as if it was inflicted by a very sharp instrument'

'And the time of death?'

'Judging from the temperature, he would have died about an hour before he was found. You can discuss that with the pathologist.'

'He seems to have been coming straight home from school.'

'It looks that way.'

Erlendur sat down in his chair and faced the brother and sister from Thailand. Gudny, the interpreter, sat down on the sofa with them. She translated the information Erlendur had received and Sunee listened in silence. She had stopped crying. Her brother chipped in and they talked together in half-whispers for a while.

'What are they saying?' Erlendur asked.

'His anorak wasn't torn when he left home this morning,' the interpreter said. 'It wasn't new, but it was in good condition.'

'Obviously there was a fight,' Erlendur said. 'I can't say whether the attack on Elías was racially motivated. I understand there are thirty children of foreign origin at his school. We need to talk to his friends, people who were in contact with him. The same goes for his brother. I know it's difficult, but it would help us if Sunee could give us a list of names. If she can't remember the names she can provide some details about his friends, their age and the like, where they live. Time is of the essence. Hopefully she realises that.'

'Do you have any idea how she feels?' the interpreter asked coldly.

'I can only imagine,' Erlendur said.



Elínborg knocked on the door. She was on the first-floor corridor off the stairwell. The door opened and a uniformed policeman greeted her. A new witness had come forward and talked to him, and was now waiting for Elínborg in the sitting room. She was a woman by the name of Fanney, a sixty-five-year-old widow with three grown-up children. She had made coffee for the policeman, who left as soon as Elínborg appeared. The two women sat down with a cup each.

'How awful,' the woman said with a sigh. 'This happening in our flats! I just don't know what the world's coming to.'

The flat was dark apart from a light in the kitchen and a small lamp in the sitting room. It was a mirror image of Sunee's flat, with a thick carpet on the floor and green wallpaper in the hallway and sitting room.

'Do you know the boys at all?' Elínborg asked. 'The two brothers?'

She had to get a move on, obtain vital information and keep going. Hurry without missing anything.

'Yes, a little,' Fanney said. 'Elías was a lovely boy. His brother took rather longer to get to know but he's a fine lad too.'

'You said you saw him earlier today,' Elínborg said, trying not to sound tired. Her daughter was at home ill with vomiting and a fever, and she had slept little last night. She had intended only to look in at work but that had changed when the report came in about the boy.

'I sometimes chat with Sunee out in the corridor,' Fanney said, as if she had not heard Elínborg's remark. 'They haven't lived here long. It's bound to be difficult for her to be alone like that. Sunee must work her fingers to the bone; wages aren't so high for factory workers.'

'Where was Niran the last time you saw him?' Elínborg asked.

'He was behind the chemist's.'

'What time was that?' Elínborg asked. 'Was he alone? Did he go into the chemist's?'

'I was getting off the bus from town at about two o'clock,' Fanney said. 'I always walk past the chemist's and that's when I saw him. He wasn't alone and he wasn't going into the chemist's. He was with some friends, schoolmates I assume.'

'And what were they doing?'

'Nothing. Just hanging around behind the chemist's.'

'Behind it?'

'Yes, you can see into the yard when you turn the corner there.'

'How many were there?'

'Five or six. I don't know who they were. I hadn't seen any of them before.'

'Are you sure?'

'Not that I noticed anyway,' Fanney said, putting down her empty coffee cup.

'Were they the same age as Niran?'

'Yes, I suppose they were around the same age. Coloured.'

'But you didn't recognise them?'

'No.'

'You say you chat to Sunee.'

'Yes.'

'Have you spoken to her recently?'

'Yes, a few days ago. I met her outside. She was coming home from work and was terribly tired. She's told me a lot about Thailand in her broken Icelandic. She speaks simply. That's fine.'

'What sort of thing has she told you?'

'Once I asked her what was the most difficult thing about living in Iceland or moving to Iceland from Thailand and she talked about how Icelanders were a bit reserved compared to the Thais. She said personal contact was more open over there. Everyone talks to everyone else, complete strangers will discuss anything quite happily. If you're sitting out on the pavement having a meal you're not shy about inviting passers-by to join you.'

'And the weather's not quite the same,' Elínborg said.

'No. People stay outside in all that good weather, of course. We spend most of the year indoors and everyone here lives in his own private world. You run into closed doors everywhere. Just look at this corridor. I'm not saying it's better or worse, but it's different. It's two different worlds. When you get to know Sunee you have the feeling that life in Thailand is much calmer and more relaxed. Do you think it would be all right for me to drop in on her?'

'Perhaps you should wait a day or two, she's under a lot of strain.'

'The poor woman,' Fanney said. 'It's not sanuk sanuk any more.'

'What do you mean?'

'She's tried to teach me a few words of Thai. Like sanuk sanuk. She said that's typical of all Thais. It means simply enjoying life, doing something nice and fun. Enjoy life! And she taught me pay nay. That's the usual greeting in Thailand, like we say hello. But it means something completely different. Pay nay means "where are you going?" It's a friendly question and a greeting at the same time. It conveys respect. Thais have great respect for the individual.'

'So you're good friends?'

'You could say that. But she doesn't tell me everything, the dear little thing.'

'Really?'

'I shouldn't be gossiping like this but...'

'But what?'

'She's definitely been having a visitor.'

'We all have visitors,' Elínborg said.

'Of course, no, it just occurred to me that it might be a boyfriend or something like that. I sort of have that feeling.'

'Have you seen him?'

'No, but I started suspecting it in the summer and again this winter. There was just the sound of people moving about. Quite late at night.'

'And nothing else?'

'No, that was all there was to it. I've never asked her.'

'So you're not talking about her ex?'

'No,' Fanney said. 'He comes round at different times.'

Elínborg thanked her for her help and took her leave. She called a number on her mobile and was out in the corridor by the time she got through to Sigurdur óli. She told him about the group of lads by the chemist's.

'They could be his schoolmates,' Elínborg said as she hurried down the stairs. 'He could have gone home with one of them. They seemed to be about his age.'

'I think Erlendur's been making a list of the two boys' friends,' Sigurdur óli said. 'I'm going to meet Elías's teacher, Agnes. I'll ask her about the chemist's. The question is whether we ought to phone the chemist's too and find out if the boys were hanging around there.'

'It might still be open,' Elínborg said. 'I'll check that out.'



Sigurdur óli rang off and ran up the steps to a house divided into three flats, in the vicinity of the school. Elías's teacher lived on the first floor and came downstairs to open the door. He recognised her from one of the photographs he had seen at the school. She took one look at Sigurdur óli, with his short, precise haircut, tidily knotted tie, white shirt and black raincoat over a dark suit, and interrupted before he could even introduce himself.

'No thanks.' She smiled. 'I don't even believe in God.'

Then she closed the door in his face.

Sigurdur óli stood thoughtfully for a while then rang the bell again.

'You haven't heard the news, have you?' he said in a serious tone when the woman opened the door again.

'What news?'

'I'm from the police. One of your pupils has been found dead near his home. It looks as if he's been stabbed with a knife.'

The woman's expression became one big question mark.

'What?' she groaned. 'Dead? Who?'

'Elías,' Sigurdur óli said.

'Bias?'

Sigurdur óli nodded.

'I don't believe you! How? Why? What... what on earth are you saying?'

'Perhaps you'd let me come inside,' Sigurdur óli said. 'We need information about his class, his friends, who he went around with, whether he'd been in trouble at school, whether he had enemies. It would be great if you could assist us. We're short of time. The sooner we can gather information, the better. It's terrible to have to call on people like this but...'

'I... I thought you were from one of those religious sects,' Agnes sighed. 'You're so ...'

'May I come in and sit down with you for a moment?'

'Sorry,' Agnes said. 'Please do.'

As he entered the flat through a small hallway with a mirror, Sigurdur óli could see the teacher's family eating dinner in the kitchen. Three children – two boys and a girl – eyed him curiously and their father stood up to shake his hand. Agnes took her husband to one side and in a low voice explained the unexpected visit to him, then showed Sigurdur óli into their study.

'What happened?' she asked once they had closed the door. 'Was the boy attacked?'

'It looks that way.'

'My God, that's ... the poor kid. Who could have done a thing like that?'

'Can you imagine that anyone at school or in his class would have wanted to do him harm?'

'Not at all,' Agnes said. 'Elías was a very sweet boy, always trying to please everyone. And he was a good pupil. Why do you want to link this to the school? Do you have any concrete lead?'

'No, nothing,' Sigurdur óli said firmly. 'We have to begin somewhere. You haven't noticed him being hassled in particular? No incident that could be linked to the attack? Nothing you've been worried about?'

'Nothing,' Agnes said. 'As far as I know, nothing's happened at the school that could end like this. Nothing.'

She gave a deep groan.

'Do you know about a group of children who hang around by the local chemist's? Friends of the brothers, immigrants perhaps?'

'No, I don't know of any such group. How is his mother taking it, the poor woman? I must call on her. Though I don't know what to say to her.'

'I think she's bearing up, considering the circumstances,' Sigurdur óli said. 'Do you know her at all?'

'I can't really say I do,' Agnes replied. 'She's had trouble with speaking Icelandic so a supervisor was appointed for the brothers, a kind of liaison between the family and the school, a lovely woman called Gudny. That's not uncommon when we want greater contact with the pupils and their parents. Some come from Croatia, others from Vietnam, the Philippines or Poland. There are Catholics, Buddhists, Muslims. I've met Elías's mother a few times and she seems very nice. Things must be difficult for her, being single like that.'

'How are the immigrants regarded?' Sigurdur óli said. 'How well do they fit in?'

'Actually, these days we try to talk about ethnic minorities,' Agnes said. 'Some take longer than others to adjust. The most successful ones are those who speak and understand Icelandic, who were born here and are, of course, just Icelanders as well. Like Elías. Niran was a different matter. You know that they're half-brothers?'

'Yes,' Sigurdur óli said. Erlendur had told him about his conversation with the interpreter. 'What about Niran?'

'You should really talk to his form teacher about this,' Agnes said. 'They sometimes find it difficult, the children who come here when they're already quite old and know nothing of the language.'

And Niran was like that?' Sigurdur óli said.

'Well, I shouldn't really talk about individual pupils but of course this is a special case. He doesn't seem interested in learning the language. Can hardly read Icelandic. Doesn't understand it too well. It's difficult for those poor kids when the languages are so different. They speak a tonal language and the meaning of words changes with the pitch. Icelandic's completely different, of course.'

'You say Elías was a good pupil,' Sigurdur óli said.

'He was,' Agnes said. 'His mother clearly knows what she wants. She wants her sons to get an education and they are sharp, despite being different in many ways.'

'Different how?'

'I know Elías much better,' Agnes said, 'but I've taught his brother a bit as well. Elías is charming and tries to please everyone, he's always smiling and friendly, although I don't feel he has many friends, poor boy'

'They've just moved into this neighbourhood,' Sigurdur óli said.

'His brother's quite different,' Agnes said.

'How?'

'I don't know him that well, like I said, but I get the impression that he's much tougher. He's not afraid to stand up for himself and he's proud of his origins, proud of being Thai. You don't find that among the children very often, not among any of them really; they seem to know precious little about their origins. I noticed that about him once when he was talking about his great-grandfather. Niran had great respect for him. And for his other relatives in Thailand.'



Sunee's next-door neighbour was a man of about seventy who lived alone. He had not heard the news and said he was shocked to see the police cars and people milling around the block of flats when he came home. He wrangled with the police officers at the entrance when they wanted to know who he was and where he lived, because he did not like that kind of interrogation. The police would not tell him what had happened. So he was rather distraught when Erlendur greeted him on the landing below the top floor and introduced himself as a detective with the Reykjavík CID.

'What's going on here?' the man asked, short of breath from climbing the stairs. He held a plastic bag in one hand, was of average height and wore a shabby suit and a tie that did not match, underneath a green anorak. Erlendur thought he looked haggard, like many of the solitary individuals he encountered. The man was thin, with a receding hairline, fairly large protruding eyes and delicate eyebrows below a high, intelligent forehead.

Erlendur explained the situation to him and saw that he took the news badly.

'Elías!' he groaned, looking over at the door to Sunee's flat. 'What are you saying? The poor child! Who did it? Have you found the person who did it?'

Erlendur shook his head. 'Do you know the family?' he asked.

'I don't believe it. All those police cars ... because of Elías ... What does his mother say, the poor woman? She must be devastated.'

'They've been your next-door neighbours for . . . ?' Erlendur began.

'Who could do a thing like that?'

'You must have got to know them,' Erlendur said.

'Eh? Oh yes, I've got to know them. Elías sometimes pops out to the shop for me, such a dear boy. He's up and down these stairs in a flash. I just can't believe this.'

'I need to ask you a couple of questions, if you don't mind,' Erlendur said. 'As their neighbour.'

'Me?'

'It won't take a moment'

'Come in then,' the man said, taking out a bunch of keys. He switched on the light inside his flat. Erlendur noticed a large bookcase, an old three-piece suite and a worn carpet. Two walls of the sitting room were decorated with white ribbed wallpaper, which was swollen in places and beginning to turn very yellow. The man, whose name was Gestur according to the small copper plate on the door, closed the door behind them and offered Erlendur a seat on the sofa. He sat down in the chair facing him. He had taken off his thick green anorak, put the plastic bag in the kitchen and turned on the coffee maker.

'What can you tell me about Sunee and her boys?' Erlendur asked.

'I have nothing but good to say of them. She works hard, their mother, she has to, being on her own like that. The boys have been nothing but polite to me. Elías has run errands and Niran . . . Where's Niran? How's he taking this?' Gestur asked with apparent concern.

Erlendur hesitated.

'Surely he hasn't been attacked too?' Gestur groaned.

'No,' Erlendur said, 'but we don't know where he is. Do you have any ideas?'

'About where he could be? No, I don't have a clue.'

Erlendur was deeply concerned about the victim's brother but could only hope that he would come home or be found as soon as possible. He felt it was premature to put his photograph on television.

'Hopefully he's just hanging around somewhere,' he said. 'What kind of relationship did the two brothers have?'

'He really looked up to Niran – Elías, I mean. I think he worshipped his brother. He was always talking about him. What Niran said and did. How Niran won computer games and how good he was at football and how he took him to the cinema with his friends even though they were all older. Niran knew everything and could do anything in Elías's eyes. They're like chalk and cheese, the way brothers can be. Elías is quick to make friends but Niran is slower to get to know and more wary of people. Sharp as a knife. On the ball and quick to learn. He doesn't trust everything he sees and hears, plays it cautiously.'

'You seem to know them very well.'

'Elías is a bit lonely, the poor lad. He preferred living where they were before. Their mother often gets home late from work and Elías has been hanging around by himself in the corridor or down in the storage rooms and passages in the basement'

'What about Sunee?'

'There ought to be more people who work as hard as she does. Sunee provides for herself and her sons through sheer hard graft. I admire her.'

'Is she completely on her own?'

'As far as I know. I understand her ex-husband has little to do with her.'

'Did Elías have any contact with anyone else on this staircase?'

'I don't think so. There isn't much contact between the tenants. These are all rented flats and you know the kind of people who are in the rental market. Always coming and going, individuals and couples and single mothers like Sunee, even single fathers, students. Some get evicted. Others pay their rent on time.'

'So does someone own the entire block?'

'All the flats on this floor at least, some speculator I imagine. I've never seen him. When I moved in a woman from the rental agency handled the paperwork and gave me an account number. If anything crops up I get in touch with the agency.'

'And the rent, is it high?'

'I could well imagine it is for Sunee. Unless she's got a different deal from mine.'

Erlendur stood up. The coffee was untouched in the coffee maker in the kitchen. The aroma filled the whole flat. Gestur stood up as well. He had not offered Erlendur any coffee. Erlendur peered into the dim hallway entrance. There was a peephole in the door, just above the nameplate. Looking through it, he could see the entrance to Sunee and the boys' flat. Erlendur looked Gestur in the eye and thanked him.