“No,” Erlendur said.
“Certain people contract extreme bone growth which causes deformity, as in that particular case. In fact there are other people who claim that neurofibromatosis has nothing to do with the Elephant Man. But that’s a different story.”
“Why did you start looking for it?” Erlendur interrupted the doctor.
“Brain diseases are my specialist field,” he said. “This girl is one of my most interesting cases. I read all the reports about her. They weren’t very precise. The doctor who looked after her was a poor GP, he was drinking at the time, so I’m told. But be that as it may, he wrote about acute tubercular infection of the head in one place, which was the term that was sometimes used when the disease appeared. That was my starting point. The coroner’s report from Keflavik wasn’t very precise either, as we talked about before. They found the tumour and left it at that.”
The doctor stood up and went over to a large bookcase in the lounge. He took out a journal and handed it to Erlendur.
“I’m not sure you’ll understand all this, but I wrote a short scientific article about my research in a highly respected American medical journal.”
“Have you written a scientific article about Audur?” Erlendur asked.
“Audur has helped us on our way towards understanding the disease. She’s been very important both to me and to medical science. I hope I’m not disappointing you.”
“The girl’s father could be a genetic carrier,” Erlendur said, still trying to grasp what the doctor had told him. “And he passed the disease on to his daughter. If he’d had a son, wouldn’t he also have inherited the disease?”
“It wouldn’t necessarily have to come out in him,” the doctor said, “but he could be a genetic carrier, like his father.”
“So?”
“Yes. If he had a child, the child could also have the disease.”
Erlendur thought about what the doctor had said.
“But you really ought to talk to the scientists at the Genetic Research Centre,” the doctor said. “They’ve got the answers to the genetic questions.”
“What?”
“Talk to the Genetic Research Centre. That’s our new Jar City. They’ve got the answers. What’s wrong? Why are you so shocked? Do you know anyone there?”
“No,” Erlendur said, “but I soon will.”
“Do you want to see Audur?” the doctor asked.
At first Erlendur didn’t take the doctor’s hint.
“Do you mean… ?”
“I’ve got a small laboratory down here. You’re welcome to take a look.”
Erlendur hesitated.
“All right,” he said.
They stood up and Erlendur followed the doctor down the narrow stairs. The doctor switched on a light and a pristine laboratory appeared, with microscopes, computers, test tubes and equipment for purposes that Erlendur couldn’t even begin to imagine. He remembered a remark that he happened to read somewhere about collectors. Collectors make a world for themselves. They make a little world all around them, select certain icons from reality and turn them into the chief characters in that artificial world. Holberg was a collector too. His obsession with collecting things was connected with pornography. It was from that he made his private world, just as the doctor did from organs.
“She’s here,” the doctor said.
He went over to a large, old, wooden cabinet, the only article of furniture in the room and out of place in the sterilised environment, he opened it and took down a thick glass jar with a lid. He put it carefully on the table and Erlendur could see in the strong fluorescent light a little child’s brain floating in formalin.
When he left the doctor, Erlendur took with him a leather case containing Audur’s earthly remains. He thought about Jar City as he drove home through the empty streets, hoping that no part of him would ever be kept in a laboratory. It was still raining when he pulled up outside the block of flats where he lived. He switched off the engine, lit a cigarette and stared out into the night.
Erlendur looked at the black bag on the front seat. He was going to put Audur back where she belonged.
37
At around 11.00 that same night, the policemen on duty in front of Katrin’s house watched her husband leave, slam the door behind him, storm into his car and drive off. He seemed to be in a tearing rush and they noticed he was carrying the same suitcase as when he arrived home earlier that day. The policemen saw no further movement during the night and there was no sign of Katrin. A police patrol car was called to the neighbourhood and followed Albert to Hotel Esja where he checked in for the night.
Erlendur turned up outside Katrin’s house at eight o’clock the following morning. Elinborg was with him. It was still raining. The sun hadn’t come out for days. They rang the bell three times before they heard a rustling inside and the door opened. Katrin appeared in the doorway. Elinborg noticed she was wearing the same clothes as on the day before and she had clearly been crying. Her face was drawn and her eyes were red and swollen.
“Sorry,” Katrin said as if in a daze, “I must have fallen asleep in the chair. What’s the time?”
“May we come in?” Erlendur said.
“I never told Albert what happened,” she said and went inside, without inviting them in. Erlendur and Elinborg exchanged glances and followed her.
“He walked out on me last night,” Katrin said. “What’s the time anyway? I think I must have fallen asleep in the chair. Albert was so angry. I’ve never seen him that angry.”
“Can you contact some of your family?” Elinborg asked. “Someone who can come and stay with you? Your sons?”
“No, Albert will come back and everything will be all right. I don’t want to disturb the boys. It’ll be all right. Albert will come back.”
“Why was he so angry?” Erlendur asked. Katrin had sat down on the sofa in the sitting room, Erlendur and Elinborg sat down opposite her just as before.
“He was furious, Albert was. And he’s generally so calm. Albert’s a good man, such a good man, and he’s always been so good to me. It’s a good marriage. We’ve always been happy.”
“Maybe you want us to come back later,” Elinborg said. Erlendur glared at her.
“No,” Katrin said, “it’s all right. It’ll be all right. Albert will come back. He just needs to get over it. My God, how difficult this is. I should have told him straightaway, he said. He couldn’t understand how I could keep quiet about it all that time. He shouted at me.”
Katrin looked at them.
“He’s never shouted at me before.”
“Can I get you some help? Shall I call your doctor?” Elinborg said and stood up. Erlendur looked at her in bewilderment.
“No, it’s all right,” Katrin said. “That’s not necessary. I’m just a bit sleepy-headed. It’ll be all right. Sit down, dear. Everything will be all right.”
“What was it you told your husband?” Erlendur asked. “Did you tell him about the rape?”
“I’d wanted to all these years, but I never had the guts to. I’ve never told anyone about that incident. I tried to forget it, pretend it had never happened. It’s often been difficult, but I’ve managed, somehow. Then you came and I found myself telling you everything. Somehow I felt better. It was like you’d relieved me of a great burden. I knew I could finally talk openly and that was the only right thing to do. Even after all this time.”
Katrin stopped talking.
“Did he get angry with you because you hadn’t told him about the rape?” Erlendur asked.
“Yes.”
“Didn’t he understand your point of view?” Elinborg asked.
“He said I should have told him about it straightaway. That’s understandable, of course. He said he’d always been honest with me and he didn’t deserve this.”