‘Oh, I see. What’s she up to these days?’
‘Not much,’ said Erlendur. ‘She mentioned you used to work out at Keflavík years ago.’
The pump clicked. The tank was full. Mensalder added a few more drops, his eye on the price. Erlendur thought he was trying to finish on a round number.
‘Yes, that’s right, I used to work on the base,’ he said. ‘Why... were you talking about me specially? Why did she mention me?’
‘Oh, we were just talking about the base and she said she had a cousin who used to work there and supplied her and her friends with goods he acquired from the Yanks. That he was very obliging like that.’
‘Ah, I see,’ said Mensalder. ‘It was a long time ago, but it’s true, you could get hold of this and that, stuff you couldn’t find in town. Everything was in short supply in those days, but not for the GIs. Their stores were overflowing with goods. They had all the newest and best of everything.’
‘I bet.’
‘Saw my first fast-food joint there and that sort of thing.’
‘Wasn’t it tricky smuggling goods out of the area?’
‘Not for me,’ said Mensalder. ‘But then I didn’t operate on any big scale. Others might have done but I was never that greedy. I was employed directly by the army, so I was paid in dollars which was a real bonus. Until they put an end to that.’
‘Did you live on the base?’
‘Yes, quite a few of us did,’ said Mensalder, beginning to clean the windscreen with a scraper. ‘We were put up in army huts. A lot of the GIs lived in and around Keflavík. Rented basements or small flats. There was more mixing back then. Later they got worried about fraternisation and built accommodation for the soldiers on the base, and after that it all changed and... you know how it is — we’ve always avoided close contact with them.’
‘True. It must have been child’s play getting your hands on sought-after items if you actually lived on site. And could pay in dollars.’
‘Yes, that’s right. They had amazing shops and you could buy vodka and beer and cigarettes and all kinds of clothes that were almost impossible to find here in town. Things have changed a lot since then, you know. These days the shops are crammed with new stuff but it wasn’t like that back then.’
‘Records too?’ said Erlendur.
He could still only see part of the man’s face between his cap and jacket collar; the dull, weary expression of someone who had known little else in life but monotonous hard grind. Mensalder went about his work methodically, heavy on his feet and slow in his movements. He struck Erlendur as a pleasant man who seemed to enjoy reminiscing about the old days, even when talking to a stranger. Perhaps it was rare for people to show any interest in him, hence his willingness to talk when someone actually bothered to give him the time of day. Then again, maybe he was simply obeying orders in being polite to the customer. He spoke without emphasis, without varying his intonation, as if little took him by surprise these days and he had nothing exciting to tell.
‘Yes, of course,’ he said. ‘The Americans had all the latest records. You could buy them in the shops but the GIs used to bring them out from home too. That’s where I first heard Elvis. Sinatra was very popular there too.’
‘Did you have a big collection yourself?’
‘Pretty big, yes.’
Mensalder gave Erlendur a puzzled look, as if he felt that this encounter was becoming oddly drawn out and circumstantial for a casual chat with a stranger on a garage forecourt. Perhaps he would have commented on the fact, but two cars drove up to the pumps. One stopped behind Erlendur, so he climbed into his car, moved off and parked round the corner. Then he went inside, paid for the petrol, made a minor purchase as an excuse to loiter, and picked up a newspaper and started reading about the hostage taking at the American Embassy in Teheran. Mensalder dealt with the two cars, then a third arrived, followed by several more. The man on the till went outside to help. After about quarter of an hour the flow of traffic relented and Mensalder was able to return to his game of patience.
‘Thank you,’ said Erlendur, finally preparing to leave.
‘Right,’ said Mensalder, looking up from his cards. ‘Was there anything else?’
‘No, that’s all. I’m sorry if I annoyed you by asking about the base.’
‘Seems to me like you’re mighty curious.’
‘It’s a bit of a hobby of mine at the moment,’ said Erlendur. ‘Anything to do with Keflavík and the soldiers, the Icelandic civilians who work there and their coexistence with the army. Of course, you’ve first-hand knowledge of all that.’
‘Yes, I suppose so.’
‘Did you have a car in those days? Car ownership wasn’t that common back then.’
‘When I worked at Keflavík? Yes, I had an old Morris. What did Rósanna say?’
‘Well, she mostly talked about how good you were at getting hold of the latest records for her.’
‘Really?’
‘Yes, it stuck in her memory,’ said Erlendur. ‘How you supplied them for her and her friends. Especially the records you sorted out for her when she was at the Women’s College and went to one of those girls’ parties. I don’t suppose you’d remember.’
‘No,’ said Mensalder.
‘But she did — she remembered you getting her a Doris Day record and another by Kay Starr.’
Mensalder bent over his game without replying. Despite being indoors, he was still wearing his coat and baseball cap, though he had taken off his gloves and laid them beside him on the table. Erlendur thought the man was beginning to suspect that he was no ordinary customer and their meeting was not a chance one after all.
‘Does that ring any bells?’
‘No, I can’t say it does.’
‘The party was held at the house of a girl called Dagbjört,’ said Erlendur. ‘Remember her?’
‘No, I can’t say I do.’
A lorry drew up at the pumps and Mensalder glanced over, then rose to his feet and put on his gloves.
‘Look, I haven’t got time for this,’ he said and, slipping past Erlendur, hurried outside, a stooping, work-worn figure, clearly shaken by this odd encounter.
42
Caroline sat thinking in silence for a while. Things had quietened down again outside the cinema. The last screening of the evening had begun and the audience had settled down with their popcorn, soft drinks and sweets to carefree enjoyment of the film.
‘Is there any way you can prove that?’ asked Marion at last.
‘Short of finding the bombs, no,’ said Caroline. ‘I don’t have any proof, it’s just something my friend put to me, half joking. All he knows is that NCT’s been employed for that kind of transport before and Cain’s name has come up in connection with that sort of operation. But he wouldn’t vouch for it. Just told me to draw my own conclusions.’
‘Do you think they could be stored in the hangar? If it’s true?’
‘I doubt it. There’s a whole lot of traffic passing through the hangar and if they want to hush up the presence of nuclear weapons on Icelandic soil, they’d put better precautions in place for hiding them. Or so I’d imagine.’
‘Do you have access to the hangar?’ asked Marion.
‘I can get myself inside if that’s what you mean,’ said Caroline. ‘I’m guessing you Icelandics haven’t signed any agreement allowing nuclear weapons to be located here?’
‘One of the conditions for the presence of the army is that they never store that type of weapon here without the permission of the Icelandic government,’ said Marion.
‘Do you think your government could have granted permission?’
‘I very much doubt they’d even consider it. It would be impossible to justify the presence of the army if news leaked out that they were stockpiling nuclear weapons here. Even less so if it turned out there was a tacit agreement with the Americans that’s been kept from the public.’