Diary VI
May 9, 1920. It is strange to have finally come home. Everything seems so unfamiliar and at the same time so familiar. I know the smell and the cold breeze that kisses me. This spring has not been good, I am told. There is still a layer of ice on the lake…
May 10, 1920. I went to see the Government Chief Engineer. He thanked me for the letter I sent him last fall. He showed me the papers they have on the railway: measurements, calculations, etc. There will definitely be projects for me soon, when the finances are there…
May 11, 1920. I find myself turning round when I hear people speak Icelandic out on the streets. It is such a long time since I have been among people who speak the language. The best thing is hearing the children talking…
May 12, 1920. There is a report in Ísafold about my return home. It details my studies and employment abroad, and my marriage. The editor opines that it is very fortunate for the country that I have chosen to return home to work here…
June 3, 1920. I have decided to pen various articles in the papers, particularly on employment and education issues and, of course, the railroad question…
June 22, 1920. I went to see the Government Chief Engineer again. He gave me some surveying assignments in connection with the proposed railroad track as per our conversation at our meeting this spring. I calibrated my optical square and leveling instrument in the evening. Matthías helped me…
June 23, 1920. I called Kristján to meet with me. We agreed he would assist me on the surveying trip and provide horses. I shall supply a tent and food…My wife and I went for a midnight walk to take advantage of the light. Elizabeth is fascinated by these light nights. I hope the dark nights of winter will not discomfort her…
June 24, 1920. Reasonable weather. We set off east at eleven o’clock with seven horses. Matthías is coming too…We took the South Road through Svínahraun lava field, but where it turns east toward the Hveradalir valleys, there is a faint track forking off to the south west. It leads to the pass between Stakihnjúkur and Lambafell mountains, and goes by the name of Threngsli. I measured the gradient, and conclude that the highest point is no more than 252 meters above sea level, similar to that of Kolvidarhóll. This seems the ideal route for the railroad. After the pass, the track turns directly south and goes through passable moorland beneath the western side of the Meitill Mountains, while there is continuous lava field on the other side of the road. We set up camp on the south side of the hollow between Greater and Lesser Meitill. From here there is a wonderful view toward the Bláfjöll Mountains, standing picturesque and majestic against the western sky…
Egill was up early. The day before he had dragged Marteinn around town looking for a young man who didn’t seem to exist, even though they both felt sure they had spoken to him in the lobby of the house the previous evening.
They had a name, and had even found an ID number in the books of the sound studio where the young man had been working when he supplied the police with his fingerprints.
They had the address in the Old Town that the employer had provided on the fingerprint card, where they found and then lost the guy once already. They also had an official home address the Public Records Office had registered against the ID number, Brekkustígur 25, but that house, they discovered, didn’t exist anymore.
They had trudged between sound studios, record shops, musical-instrument shops, clubs, cafés, music colleges, and a number of other haunts where they imagined they might find people who knew a left-handed guitarist with dark shoulder-length hair named Sigurdur Sigurdsson. Egill had relied on Marteinn to do most of the talking, while he just stood by with a look on his face meant to show these hippies that they meant business. It didn’t seem to matter. Nobody knew anything about the guy.
Halldór had not yet arrived at the office, and Egill was not looking forward to reporting the details of their fruitless search, even though they had kept at it well into the night. While he waited, he decided to see if the others had had better luck.
All the information that the team had gathered on the case so far was kept in three-ring binders in a fixed place, so that everyone could keep up-to-date on the progress of the investigation.
Egill paged to the report Halldór had written after his interviews with Matthías, then he scanned the reports Hrefna had written after her interviews with Sveinborg and her search through Jacob Junior’s papers, and finally he read the report Erlendur had written after his interview with Reverend Ingimar.
The data on the investigation into Jacob Senior’s death caught his attention. The search warrant that had been issued for the home of Sigurdur Jónsson way back in 1945 listed the same address as that of Sigurdur Sigurdsson’s registered address, Brekkustígur 25. And Halldór’s notes showed that Sigurdur Jónsson’s widow had lived in the house following her husband’s death.