‘You hurried away across the school playground after your visit to Thorson,’ said Konrád. ‘And you passed the entrance to the bank on your way to his place, though naturally you weren’t in such a hurry at that stage. The timing fits. You must have gone to see him at lunchtime. Somehow you managed to trick him. To allay his suspicions. Perhaps you pretended to leave. Left the door on the latch and crept back in after he’d gone for a rest. Somehow, I don’t know exactly how, you managed to catch him unawares —’
‘This is absolute bullshit,’ protested Benjamín.
‘You were careful to park some distance from his building. Had you already decided what you were going to do before you knocked on his door?’
‘That’s it,’ snapped Benjamín. ‘I have nothing more to say to you.’
‘Your grandfather made a favourite of Hólmbert and left the family business to him, over all his other children. Did he know about his son? Did he know what kind of monster he was?’
‘My father isn’t a monster,’ objected Benjamín. ‘He’s a desperately ill man who has a right to die in peace.’
‘Unlike Thorson, you mean?’
Benjamín stared wildly at him.
‘Are you aware of what your father did?’ said Konrád. ‘Do you know his story? You must do. Or you’d never have gone round to see Thorson in the first place.’
‘This is a waste of time,’ said Benjamín and, spinning on his heel, stormed off towards Skuggasund. Konrád remained where he was, watching him go. He had been toying with a theory that he wanted to try out on Benjamín. He didn’t know if it was true, but he wanted to test it on the one man who might be able to confirm it.
‘I don’t believe it was necessarily your father who was the monster,’ he called after Benjamín.
The other man didn’t break his stride.
‘Did you hear me? I don’t believe your father was the monster.’
He saw Benjamín slow down and finally come to a halt on the far side of Lindargata. He stood motionless for a while, hands thrust into his coat pockets, head a little bowed, as if he were deep in thought. Konrád studied his figure from behind and tried to imagine the struggle that must be going on inside him. Finally Benjamín’s shoulders sagged in defeat and slowly, reluctantly, he turned.
‘What do you mean?’
‘I believe your father may have been an innocent pawn in all this,’ said Konrád.
‘What... why... what makes you think that?’
‘He’s not the only possible suspect,’ said Konrád. ‘He may have been an accessory to the crime since he knew what had happened, but I’m not convinced he was the one who dumped Rósamunda here.’
Benjamín retraced his steps towards him.
‘What are you talking about?’
‘Family secrets. About your father. And your grandfather. The police didn’t know they’d been travelling together up north when Hrund vanished. That information was never revealed. Thorson only found out about it recently. Nor did it ever come out that Rósamunda was frightened of your house. Had Thorson known that at the time, the case would have turned out very differently. I’m guessing he urgently wanted to find out the truth and bring it to the attention of the police before it was too late for him. That’s why he went to see your father. And that’s why you went to see Thorson.’
‘You can’t... you’ve got no... no...’
‘Oh, I’ve got enough,’ said Konrád. ‘Enough to implicate you in Thorson’s murder and enough to reopen the old inquiry into Rósamunda’s death.’
‘You can’t...’
‘Of course I can. It’s over, and you know it. What you did may not have come naturally to you, but you did it all the same, and you need to confess. For your own sake.’
‘I... we...’
Benjamín gazed imploringly at Konrád, as if begging for his understanding. Konrád saw that he was no longer angry. His defiance was waning, giving way beneath the crushing weight of his guilt. He was overwhelmed by the repercussions of what he had done — the fallout from the act he had tried to justify and bury so deep in his consciousness that it seemed almost to belong to someone else.
‘Tell me what happened,’ said Konrád. ‘You didn’t have to shoulder this burden. You did it out of a sense of loyalty to your family. I can understand that. I can understand what motivated you, but you went too far. You simply went too far.’
‘But the old man was going to expose the whole thing.’
‘I know.’
‘I couldn’t allow it. Just couldn’t. I couldn’t... perhaps if it had only been my grandfather... but my father was... my father was no better... I caught the old man in my father’s room and threw him out... He started going on about Rósamunda and claiming that Dad had... I didn’t know what to do...’
Benjamín was incapable of continuing. For a long time he just stood there, eyes lowered, until finally he drew an envelope from his pocket and held it out to Konrád. ‘I found this in his flat and didn’t dare leave it behind.’
Konrád took the letter. It was addressed to Thorson. Reading it, he saw that it was from Thorson’s old colleague Flóvent. It included the information that Hólmbert had been the police’s main informant in the case against Jónatan.
‘I didn’t dare leave it behind,’ repeated Benjamín. ‘After I’d... I’d... what I’d done...’
49
Hearing a knock at the door, Thorson went and opened it, only to discover that Hólmbert’s son had come to see him. It was just after lunch and Thorson had been about to go for a rest as was his habit at this time of day. But he had been half expecting this visit.
‘I wanted to apologise for what happened at the nursing home earlier,’ said the man, having introduced himself as Benjamín. He seemed perfectly calm now that he was standing on Thorson’s landing. ‘I had no right to speak to you like that, let alone threaten you,’ he went on. ‘I was brought up to respect my elders, so I do hope you won’t hold it against me. What you told me came as a shock, but my behaviour... it didn’t do me any credit and I wanted to apologise.’
‘I was only saying what I believe to be true,’ said Thorson.
‘Of course, I do see that. I hope you’ll forgive me. Ideally, I’d like a chance to get to the bottom of this matter myself, but if you feel the need to involve the police, of course you have every right. And I’ll give them all the assistance I can.’
‘I’m glad to hear that.’
‘To be honest, it came as a horrible shock... Look, could I possibly come in for a minute? I feel awkward discussing this on the landing.’
‘Please do.’
‘Thank you.’ Benjamín followed Thorson into the sitting room.
‘Unfortunately, I have good grounds for believing that what I told you earlier is true,’ said Thorson. ‘Although nobody else remembers the events any more, I do, and if my suspicion proves correct, the case will have to be reopened.’
‘Yes, of course, I can see that now I’ve had time to think,’ said Benjamín. ‘Of course the whole incident needs re-examining. I couldn’t agree more. I take it you’ve already spoken to the police?’
‘I’m planning to do so shortly. I know this will be unwelcome news for you. Presumably you’ll want to discuss it with your brothers and sisters, and your mother?’
‘Yes, naturally. My father’s seriously ill. He won’t be aware of what’s going on even if the case does become a police matter. On health grounds, I very much doubt he’ll be forced to stand trial. He hasn’t got long to live. I was wondering...’
‘Yes?’
‘I was wondering if I could appeal to your sense of compassion,’ said Benjamín. ‘If what you say is true, don’t you think that justice has already been done? He’s suffered. My mother’s suffering. It’s been incredibly painful for me to see someone who was always so strong and vigorous reduced to an unrecognisable husk by this horrific disease.’