Are you willing to tell me who his accomplice was? The name of the man who killed the bank employee?
[pause]
It wasn’t a man, it was a woman.
[pause]
It was my best friend. Her name’s Lovísa. And we’re still best friends. I’m finding it hard to say this aloud even now, after all these years, despite knowing it won’t appear in print straight away… She’s done well for herself, in spite of everything. She passed her law exams in style, the only one of us three, then later went to work for the courts and eventually rose to become a judge. An illustrious career by any standards. She’s taught law, too, and written academic books. She’ll never tell anyone what happened that day in 1965. That’s why it’s up to me to do it.
You’re still best friends, you say… Do you ever talk about this?
No, never. It’s too difficult. Sometimes it’s best to pretend it never happened. But I’m going to warn her next time we meet that I’ve given an interview and told the whole story. Then she’ll know that justice will come for her in the end. But I’m also going to reassure her that it won’t come out until after I’m gone. I know it sounds cowardly, in a way, notwanting to be around to help her deal with the situation, but in all honesty this was her mistake, not mine.
What, what do you mean? You’re… you’re not dying, are you?
No, fortunately. Lovísa’s pretty fit too. Maybe she’ll die before me and then she’ll never have to suffer for it – not in that sense, if you follow me.
Then I’m afraid I don’t quite understand, Elín, why the interview won’t appear until after you’ve gone?
Ah, you see, that’s my second condition. I realize it could create quite a sensation, with you shedding light on a cold case, a major case, that most people have probably forgotten about these days. But you’re just going to have to wait and keep the recording safe. I trust you to find the right way of presenting the story when the time comes.
OK, I see… frankly, I’m a bit taken aback.
You needn’t be so polite; I know it’s unfair and that I should have been straight with you from the beginning. But it has to be this way. The secret has tobe exposed one day, but I don’t want to see it. I’m too fond of Lovísa.
I think we should stop now, then, don’t you? Was there anything else that…?
Yes, let’s stop now. That’ll do.
[hissing]
2012
Tuesday, 6 November
After his meeting with Kristín, Helgi hurried down the stairs at the police station.
He had managed to convince her that the recording was best kept with him for the time being but promised to have a copy made and sent to her at the first opportunity. He could deal with that later. For now, the priority was to hang on to this precious piece of evidence – and to go and see Lovísa.
That warm, kindly woman – mother, grandmother, respected lawyer and judge. Helgi pictured her, thinking that it would never have crossed his mind that she had a human life on her conscience. Perhaps even two lives.
Surely this must be the explanation? The missing piece of the puzzle.
Elín knew something that no one else must find out – the truth which not only could but would ruin Lovísa’s life. And now Elín had vanished.
Helgi ran back outside into the rain.
His coat had hardly had a chance to dry.
And yet, he thought, it didn’t add up, not entirely.
If the recording was to be believed, Lovísa must have known that it wasn’t in her interest for Elín to die, since her death would precipitate a chain of events that would result in the exposure of Lovísa’s crime. It was pure coincidence, or luck, that Kristín had decided to speak to the police now, although Elín’s fate was still unknown. The interview wasn’t supposed to be published until after Elín’s death, so what possible motivation would Lovísa have had to kill her best friend?
Helgi drove fast, almost recklessly, once he had pulled out into the traffic. Visibility was limited in the rain and the roads were congested, but he was impelled by a sense of urgency to see Lovísa as soon as possible. The radio was on in the car, booming in the rain.
Perhaps Kristín was about to go on air at this very moment. He wondered if she would still feel like working from nine to five once her bank account was full of money.
Was it a hundred per cent certain that Elín was dead?
