Free Nightblind by Ragnar Jónasson Page A

it.
    Loneliness had become more of a burden that he liked to admit. The days at work weren’t a problem, but in the evenings when he came home, the cold, empty house, far too big for him, was all there was to receive him. The job was demanding and he relished the involvement in municipal politics, working out the cliques and establishing how people would form alliances on particular issues. It was certainly an advantage for the municipality to have an outsider in his position, someone with no allegiances. In the same way it was a clever move to bring in an outsider to manage the investigation. He was sure that Ari Thór on his own would never have dared to push his way into the mayor’s residence to make veiled accusations so late in the evening.
    He stood up and drew the curtains, an unconscious reaction to the police’s invasion of his home. He also managed to shut out the darkness outside, but there was no hiding from the sound of the rain. What a miserable day this had been, in every respect. The low pressure that was bringing them all this October rain also had a negative effect on Gunnar’s mood that he felt very deeply.
    He switched on the espresso machine. Normally he avoided coffee in the evenings, but he suspected he wouldn’t sleep much anyway.
    He wanted to call his wife, not to tell her about the visit from the police, but more to make some kind of contact. It wasn’t too late for a call to Norway, but the relationship had become so strained that phone calls for no special reason had long ago been consigned to the past. She would be surprised to hear from him and would want a reason for the call, and then there would be silence on the line between Siglufjördur and Oslo.
    Instead he called Elín. He wanted to go and see her, but couldn’t bring himself to do it. An evening visit could result in all kinds of awkward misunderstandings. There was no point in boosting the inevitable gossip that was undoubtedly already being whispered about the mayor and his deputy.
    She answered quickly, as she did everything. Sharp-witted and astute, Elín responded rapidly to anything he asked her to do at work.
    ‘I just had a visit from the police,’ he blurted out, not bothering with any courtesies.
    ‘A visit? At your place?’ Elín asked.
    ‘Yes.’
    ‘And … what did they want to know?’ she asked, her voice guarded.
    ‘Why Herjólfur called me the day before yesterday,’ he replied, trying to hide his worries.
    There was silence on the line.
    ‘And what did you tell them?’ Elín finally asked.
    ‘What we decided, of course.’
    ‘And they believed you?’
    ‘Well, I think so. Yes, I’m sure they did.’
    The silence deepened. He knew what was at stake, and how unlikely it was that this was the last they would hear of it.

 
     
     
     
    This is the first day that nobody has been sitting outside my room.
    Of course they were checking that I didn’t do myself any harm. Fortunately they let me have a little elbow room. The door was kept ajar and I was able to go to the toilet and the shower by myself.
    I wouldn’t have tried anything, even with nobody watching. At the moment I want to continue to live, in spite of being frightened, as always.
    I seem to be past the worst, judging by the fact that I’m not being watched every moment of the day, like a small child.
    This morning’s meeting wasn’t too bad. The staff and the inmates all talked as equals, on the surface, naturally. There wasn’t a doctor to be seen, any more than any other day. Doctors seem to be a rare sight on the ward. There were nurses, medical staff and some auxiliary staff there. I’m not quite sure who does what. Nobody wears a uniform but you can normally tell the staff by the keys they have in their hands all the time.
    I didn’t say anything at the meeting, just listened. The discussion was mostly about the programme for the day. It’s the height of summer and most of them wanted to be out in the gardens. I have to stay