The Darkness(35)

XXV


A few clouds streaked the sky above the tall firs in Pétur’s garden, as if painted with broad brushstrokes on the blue vault of the heavens, and the sun was descending towards its late setting. Usually, it was a time of year that filled Hulda with vitality, but not today. She was utterly drained of energy following her meeting with Magnús, too weary to put any more work into the investigation: Elena would have to wait until morning.

Pétur opened the door before she could knock, having no doubt been watching out for her from the kitchen window. She tried not to let her exhaustion show.

‘Hulda! Come in.’ His manner was as warm as ever, like a doctor talking to his favourite patient. He led the way into the sitting room that doubled as a dining room, where the table was already laid, with the most succulent-looking joint of lamb, obviously hot off the barbecue, as the pièce de résistance. It smelled so delicious that Hulda belatedly realized she was famished. Pétur had opened a bottle of red wine, too, as she’d hoped he would. Just as well she’d taken the precaution of dropping her car off at home and ringing for a taxi.

‘This looks good,’ she said.

He offered her a chair and she sank into it gratefully, feeling the fatigue flowing out of her limbs. Pétur vanished into the kitchen. Sitting there felt a little strange, as if she didn’t belong, as if she were a gatecrasher. Yet, another part of her felt as if she had come home. Perhaps it was the garden that she could see from the living-room windows, reminding her a little of her old garden on álftanes.

Pétur’s place was warm but, more than that, it had a cosy, homely air. Yes, she could easily picture herself living here, enjoying Pétur’s company, cooking dinner with him, drinking wine into the night …

‘Long day?’ Pétur asked, coming back in with a bowl of vegetables. ‘Mine was pretty quiet. You’ll appreciate that once you’ve retired – a fit woman like you, with outside interests.’ He smiled.

‘I suppose so,’ Hulda replied ruefully. ‘Yes, you could say I’ve had a rather … trying day.’

Pétur sat down. ‘Help yourself while it’s hot. It’s usually very good barbecued this way. Makes a nice change to have someone else to cook for.’

‘Thanks.’ She took a mouthful. The flavour was exceptional: Pétur was clearly an excellent cook. That was a definite plus.

‘What’s happened?’ he asked.

‘What?’

‘Today. Something’s happened, I can tell.’

Hulda considered how much to share with him. Discussing the case wasn’t a problem, since she had complete faith in Pétur’s discretion, but she felt reluctant to describe her meeting with Magnús. This was partly out of shame at her blunder, however well intentioned it had been.

After a silence that lasted a minute or two yet somehow never became uncomfortable, she surprised herself by saying: ‘I had a meeting with my boss. He wants me to drop the investigation.’

‘Immediately?’

‘Yes.’

‘Why? Are you going to?’

‘I interviewed a man I shouldn’t have. It’s a long story but, basically, my inquiry overlapped with another investigation. I hadn’t a clue it was going on, though I have to admit that was partly my fault for not keeping my boss in the loop. He had no idea what I was up to.’ She heaved a sigh. ‘The detective who originally handled the case is furious with me as well. To be honest, I’m in a bit of a mess.’

‘It’s bound to sort itself out. I’m sure of that.’ As usual, Pétur seemed unperturbed. ‘And if I know you, you won’t give up without a fight.’

Hulda laughed. ‘No, I managed to squeeze one more day out of him. My last day.’

‘Then you’d better make good use of it.’

‘You can say that again.’ She raised her glass and took the first sip. ‘In other words, I’d better go easy on this superb wine.’

‘And once tomorrow’s over, you’ll be free. Congratulations!’

‘You certainly know how to look on the bright side.’

‘Shouldn’t we celebrate your retirement?’

‘If you like,’ Hulda said, her voice mellow. ‘This is quite a celebration we’re having already. It’s absolutely delicious.’

‘We could climb Esja,’ Pétur suggested. ‘What do you say to that? I’ve lost track of how many times I’ve been up there, but I never get tired of it. Not everyone’s lucky enough to have a mountain like that in their backyard. And the view of the city on a clear day …’

‘You don’t have to convince me – I’m in,’ Hulda replied, and for the first time in ages she found herself genuinely looking forward to something. Just for a moment, she toyed with the idea of abandoning Elena and putting herself first, giving in to Magnús’s wish for her to retire with immediate effect. She was on the point of suggesting they climb Esja tomorrow instead.

The words teetered on the tip of her tongue.

But when she did speak it was to say: ‘Right, the day after tomorrow it is. I’ll need one more day for the inquiry.’ And instantly she experienced a powerful, unsettling premonition that this had been the wrong decision.