Free Oblivion by Arnaldur Indridason Page B

Kópavogur and were waiting for a lorry. Marion strolled over to the two American policemen, exchanged introductions and explained that members of the Icelandic CID would need to interview the residents of the neighbouring barracks.
    ‘Is that strictly necessary?’ asked one of the men.
    ‘The owner of this car was murdered,’ Marion informed him in competent English. ‘I thought you were aware of that. We need to find out why his car’s here, what business he had visiting the barracks.’
    ‘Was he murdered in one of the barracks?’
    ‘We don’t know.’
    ‘Was he murdered on the base?’
    From the stripes on his shoulder the policeman appeared to be an officer, maybe a sergeant. He was young, in his twenties, and spoke with a noticeable Southern drawl. His companion, who was around the same age, contributed nothing to the conversation.
    ‘We don’t know,’ repeated Marion. ‘That’s why we need to –’
    ‘Why don’t you find out first?’ interrupted the young sergeant, making no effort to appear accommodating. ‘I don’t believe the folks round here would care to be questioned by you people.’
    His arrogance, the way he said ‘you people’ and cut Marion off short, angered Erlendur and made him want to step in and give the guy a piece of his mind. But he bit his lip.
    ‘Maybe it would be better if we spoke to your superior officer,’ said Marion.
    ‘I doubt that would make any difference,’ said the young man. He adjusted his cap which had tipped forward on his brow.
    ‘All the same,’ said Marion and turned to Erlendur. ‘We need to find someone with a grain of sense around here.’
    The Americans conferred, then announced they would contact headquarters. The one who spoke for both repeated, defiantly, that the Icelandic police shouldn’t assume they would be granted permission to interrogate American nationals on US territory, unless the circumstances were exceptional. On the other hand, he made no objection to the Corolla being removed from the scene. The lorry, which had arrived in the interim, reversed up to the car and the driver attached a hook under the bumper, then winched the car into the trailer and secured it. Then he got behind the wheel again and the lorry moved off, under police escort.

15
    WHILE THEY WERE awaiting a green light from the base authorities for the Icelandic police to question Defense Force personnel, Marion and Erlendur drove over to the Icelandair premises where Kristvin had worked as a mechanic. These were located inside the military zone, like everything relating to international civil aviation in Iceland. Plans had long been afoot to move the international airport, by constructing a smart new passenger terminal outside the perimeter to the west of the base, but little progress had been made so far. The old terminal building was no longer fit for purpose and it was hardly appropriate that every time Icelanders wanted to travel abroad they had to pass through a US military checkpoint. It was yet another bone of contention in the bitter controversy over the American presence in the country that had been raging ever since the Defence Agreement was signed with the United States after the Second World War. Opposition came principally from those on the Left, who wanted not only to throw out the Defense Force but for Iceland to leave NATO as well and declare itself neutral. Support for the military presence tended to come from the Right, who believed that cooperation on defence was essential in these uncertain times and that neutrality in the war between East and West was unthinkable. Others were motivated by profit. They wanted to charge the Americans for the lease of the site on Midnesheidi, but this was countered with the argument that the army was already pumping a vast amount of cash into the Icelandic economy in the form of contracts. Then there were those who took a more moderate line, not necessarily in favour of the army’s presence but regarding it as a