‘It’s a small world,’ said Elínborg, evading his question. ‘Didn’t you think to get in touch with us, given that you were in the neighbourhood when the crime took place?’
‘I didn’t really think about it,’ answered Konrád. ‘I suppose I would have done if I’d believed I could help you in any way. But I’m afraid I haven’t anything to contribute.’
‘So you just strolled calmly along towards your car, did you?’
‘Yes, I think so. I don’t know what your witness saw. I’d be interested to know. I was trying to be as quick as possible, because of my wife. She rang me when I was on the way.’
‘So she’s the person you were speaking to on the phone?’
‘Yes, I was on the phone to her. Is there something particular you want to know? Some specific questions you want to ask me? I didn’t realise this was all going to be about me.’
‘I’m sorry,’ said Elínborg. ‘We have to check the reliability of all witnesses. It’s just procedure.’
‘I see,’ said Konrád.
‘And please bear in mind that anything could be important, even if it seems to you to be quite insignificant. What time was it that you were there?’
‘I didn’t notice exactly. It was about two when we got home.’
‘Did you notice anyone else around, someone we might be able to trace?’
‘No, I didn’t. I didn’t see a soul. The street lighting around there isn’t all that good, and I wasn’t parked very near the place where I understand these terrible events occurred. I was quite some distance away, in fact.’
‘We may be looking for a young woman in connection with the murder.’
‘So I’ve read in the papers.’
‘So you didn’t see any young woman around that night?’
‘No.’
‘Or a young woman with a man?’
‘No.’
‘She could have been alone. We don’t have a precise time of death, and it’s entirely possible that the crime was committed around two.’
‘All I saw was a deserted street as I was hurrying along it. I’m afraid I didn’t notice anything in particular. No doubt I’d have been more observant if I’d known I would be a witness in this case.’
‘Where exactly did you park?’
‘It wasn’t on the street you’re interested in. I took a short cut. The car was in the next street down the hill. That’s why I can’t help you. I was never on the road where the murder happened.’
‘Did you hear any noises? Anything unusual?’
‘No, I don’t remember anything like that.’
‘Are these your children?’ asked Elínborg, changing tack abruptly. On a small table three photographs of young people at their high-school graduations were arranged: two young men and a young woman, all smiling into the camera.
‘Yes — those are my boys and my daughter,’ replied Konrád. He seemed relieved at the change of subject. ‘She’s the youngest, always competing with her brothers. The elder boy went into medicine, the younger into economics, like me, and my daughter’s doing engineering.’
‘A doctor, an economist, and an engineer?’
‘Yes, they’re good kids.’
‘I’ve got four children,’ said Elínborg. ‘One of my boys is at the Commercial College.’
‘My daughter’s at the University of Iceland. Our doctor son is about to finish his training in San Francisco and he’ll be coming home next year. He’s specialising in cardiology.’
‘San Francisco?’ asked Elínborg.
‘He’s been there three years. He’s very happy there. We …’ Konrád fell silent.
‘Yes?’ asked Elínborg.
‘No, nothing.’
Elínborg smiled. ‘Everyone says San Francisco’s a wonderful city. I’ve never been,’ she said.
‘It is,’ said Konrád. ‘Yes, indeed.’
‘What about your daughter?’
‘What about her?’
‘Did she go with you?’
‘Yes, she did, actually,’ answered Konrád. ‘The second time we visited. She came with us and fell in love with the place, just as we did.’
Outside Konrád’s home, Elínborg’s phone rang. It was Sigurdur Óli.
‘You were right,’ he said.
‘So Runólfur did call on her?’ asked Elínborg.
‘According to the records, he went to her home about two months ago, on two consecutive days.’
20
Elínborg was in no hurry. She did not contact Konrád to arrange a second interview until the following day. He answered the phone himself and said she was welcome to call on him around midday — he was not planning to go anywhere. He asked why she found it necessary to speak to him again, but she simply said she had a few more questions. He sounded quite calm. Elínborg had the impression that he knew what to expect.
She did not tell Konrád that she had made arrangements to ensure that neither he nor any member of his immediate family could leave the country. She doubted whether it was strictly necessary but she did not want to take any risks with the case she was building. Elínborg also ensured that Edvard would be apprehended if he tried to flee.
During the night she lay awake for a long time, thinking about a conversation with Valthór. When Elínborg had come home she had entered his room and sat down. Teddi had been asleep, as were Theodóra and Aron, but Valthór, as usual, had been at his computer. The television had also been on. When Elínborg had said she needed to talk to him he said nothing.
‘Are you OK, dear?’ she asked.
‘Yeah,’ he replied brusquely.
Elínborg was worn out after a long day. She knew Valthór was a good boy at heart. Over the years they had been close, but as a teenager he had entered a rebellious phase of ferocious independence and his hostility seemed to be directed mainly at her.
After several attempts to get a response, Elínborg switched off the TV. Valthór stopped what he was doing.
‘I want to talk to you for a minute. How can you be on the Internet and watch telly at the same time?’
‘Easy,’ answered Valthór. ‘How’s the hunt going?’
‘All right. Look, I don’t want you blogging about me. I don’t want you writing about our private business. This family’s private business.’
‘So don’t read it,’ he snorted.
‘Whether I read it or not, it’s on the net. Theodóra’s uncomfortable with it, too. You go too far on your blog, Valthór. You write about things that are nobody’s affair but ours. And who are these girls you’re always writing about? Do you think it’s any fun for them to read that stuff about themselves?’
‘Jesus,’ said Valthór. ‘You just don’t get it. Everyone does it, it’s no problem. Nobody thinks anything of it — it’s just a joke, no one takes it seriously.’
‘You could write about something else.’
Valthór suddenly changed the subject: ‘I’m thinking of moving out.’
‘Moving out?’
‘Kiddi and me thought we’d rent a place together. I told Dad earlier.’
‘And where will the money come from?’
‘I’ll get a part-time job.’
‘What about your schoolwork?’
‘I’m going to see how it goes. I know I won’t have any trouble finding work. And Birkir moved out. He went all the way to Sweden.’