‘As I said, I asked a doctor to take a look at these,’ said Flóvent, tapping the papers, ‘and he told me that they are indeed physical measurements, very precise ones. Hands, feet, head shape, bone structure. Even the gap between the eyes. What exactly was it that you were looking for?’
‘The brothers were familiar with the theories of Cesare Lombroso, but Rudolf wanted to go further. I don’t know if you... You see, Rudolf wanted to study both the individual and his environment. He felt Lombroso’s theories on heredity were insufficient when considered in isolation. He wanted to understand the influence of environmental factors on heredity.’
‘Lombroso’s theories?’
‘About the links between criminality and physical characteristics,’ Brynhildur explained. ‘His theories are based on genetics and relate to the physical characteristics and physiognomy that distinguish criminals from the general population. By taking precise measurements and making careful observations, scientists believe they can predict whether the individual in question is predisposed to become a criminal later in life.’
‘Physical characteristics?’
‘Well, for example, Rudolf was looking out for a gangling frame, or a particularly powerful torso. For distinctive facial features: the position of the eyes, the dimensions of the skull, a specific head shape. A variety of these characteristics have been identified by scientists. Rudolf wanted to extend the study beyond physique and look at the influence of environmental factors on the children of criminals. That is, the influence of their upbringing and living conditions. Limited though it was in scope, he was convinced that our study would produce significant results. If we’re brought up in a certain environment, in certain conditions, isn’t there a possibility that we will behave in a certain way?’
‘You mean we learn from what’s in front of us?’
‘You could put it like that, yes. Rudolf considered these questions alongside Lombroso’s theories about physical anomalies. Felix was... Felix, he...’
‘Go on. What about Felix? Was he complicit in all of this?’
‘Yes, I’m afraid...’ Brynhildur left the sentence unfinished.
‘What did he do?’
‘Rudolf got him to befriend some of the subjects,’ said Brynhildur, and for the first time in their conversation she showed signs of shame at what she had done. ‘Felix used to report back to his father on their living conditions, family make-up and the relations between the different family members. He’d tell him what children like Eyvindur felt about their parents and their own futures, their attitudes to crime, alcohol, even sex. Some of them had already started smoking and drinking. These were boys of twelve or thirteen. Fifteen of them in all.’
‘It’s our understanding that Eyvindur was fond of Felix. He probably didn’t have many friends, so their relationship was important to him, and he could never understand why Felix had suddenly turned his back on him,’ said Flóvent. ‘Why he suddenly wouldn’t talk to him any more. He suspected that it had all been an act, their friendship. In the end he came to the conclusion that Felix had simply been using him. And, from what you say, it seems he was right: the friendship was only on his side. Felix was indeed using him. Abusing his trust.’
Brynhildur lowered her gaze to the papers and Flóvent sensed her reluctance to discuss the subject.
‘As I said,’ she went on, after a moment, ‘Felix can be very cruel when he wants to be. He was quick to gain a hold over the other boys and exploited his mental superiority over them. He knew his father had chosen them as the subjects of his research because they came from bad homes, and he picked on the weakest of them. The most vulnerable. But he managed to dominate those who were stronger than him too.’
‘How did he do that?’
‘In various ways. The goal was to see how far he could go. How easily influenced the boys would be. How they would react to his dominance and how he could manipulate them... Rudolf was... Felix was supposed to...’
‘What?’
‘It doesn’t matter.’
‘What were you saying about Rudolf and Felix? Who set him this goal?’
Brynhildur hesitated.
‘Felix didn’t come up with the idea, did he?’ said Flóvent. ‘Was Rudolf orchestrating all this?’
Brynhildur nodded. ‘Halfway through the study, Rudolf began to consider Felix’s role among the boys,’ she admitted. ‘The role of the strong leader. It was a popular concept in Germany at the time. Rudolf realised that Felix had a hold over the other boys and he... Well, he encouraged his son. Conspired with him. Even put words in his mouth. Rudolf’s a very thorough man.’
‘What happened?’
‘Inevitably, it ended in disaster.’
‘How? Between Rudolf and Felix, you mean?’
‘Yes, between them and... I’d rather not go into it. Rudolf abandoned the study, dropped it altogether and forbade us ever to mention it again.’
‘And so you two thought it had been safely swept under the carpet?’
‘Yes, until that letter came through the door and stirred everything up again.’
‘And it threatened to expose Felix’s role and the experiments unless, what did you say, certain conditions were met? What were they?’
‘The writer wanted a specific sum of money for keeping his mouth shut. Quite a large sum.’
‘And you two believe Eyvindur wrote the letter?’
‘We think it’s possible. Felix...’
‘Yes?’
‘Felix... Felix may have blurted something out on one of his sales trips,’ said Brynhildur. ‘He says he was drunk and came out with a lot of stuff that he ought not to have said. About Eyvindur. And the experiments. It made Eyvindur angry. Understandably, I suppose.’
37
Thorson had been driving for about five minutes when he came to the turn-off the old woman had told him about. The road was blocked by a gate. He got out and opened it, drove through and closed it behind him. Two black dogs, of some indeterminate mongrel ancestry, greeted him at the gate, fawning over him and wagging their tails, ecstatic to receive a visitor.
He parked the jeep in front of the farmhouse, took off his jacket and laid it on the back seat. The temperature had risen during the course of the afternoon, and he was sweltering. The old turf farmhouse was sandwiched between a small concrete house, built tight against one side, and a modern outbuilding, consisting of a cowshed and barn, which was now packed with fragrant, newly harvested hay. Thorson surveyed the meadows that stretched far into the distance. It looked as if the haymaking was over.
There was no one at home in the concrete house, but Thorson noticed a wisp of blue smoke rising from the old turf building; he was about to head over there when he spotted a third dog, sitting a couple of yards from the door, watching his every movement without stirring from its place. It was a big, powerful-looking beast, with a red-gold coat and a dark stripe on its back, and it wore a collar, unlike the other dogs. As Thorson approached, the animal emitted a low growl, baring a fearsome set of fangs. Taken aback by this greeting, Thorson halted in front of the dog and warily held out the back of his hand, but the growling only intensified, and the dog showed its teeth again. The other two dogs watched, no longer wagging their tails. It was as if the animal was guarding its master, warning Thorson to leave him alone. At the foot of the turf wall lay the carcass of a lamb, badly hacked about, as if the ravens had got at it.