July 4, 1934. There has been unrest here in Germany of late, but today Hitler announced that the revolt has been stamped out…We are about to go home. Our visit here has laid solid foundations for our goals, but there remains plenty of work still to do…
Halldór had slept badly. He spent much of the night thinking about the case he had been tasked with solving. Until now, all the clues had led down blind alleys, and he was at a loss as to what to do next. He would certainly have a further talk with Matthías and ask for an explanation for this visit to Birkihlíd last Wednesday evening, but he doubted that it would bring him any closer to solving the case. He finally fell asleep early in the morning, but was plagued by bad dreams. He dreamed he was at Birkihlíd looking for some clue, he didn’t know what, as water streamed down the chimney. He was madly bailing it out through the parlor window, which for some reason was broken, and he felt it was his fault. Morning finally came, and Halldór stumbled out of bed, washed his face, shaved, got dressed, and made his way down to the kitchen and his cup of tea. Morgunbladid slid through the letterbox a few minutes later, and he had only just begun reading an interesting article on police households when the phone rang. Stefanía leapt to her feet immediately.
“Perhaps it’s the minister again,” she said, hurrying to answer the phone.
“He’s just a bank manager now,” called Halldór.
“Hello,” she warbled happily into the receiver. Her smile faded almost instantly.
“It’s only a long-distance call,” she said disappointedly. “It’s for you.”
Halldór took the receiver. “Hello…hello.”
Erlendur’s voice came through the receiver along with a bit of static. “Hi. How’s it going?”
Halldór looked at his wife, whose ears were twitching. “There’s not much progress.”
“Right. Well, listen, I was in Salzburg yesterday. I sent the wife and kids on up into the mountains so I could have some peace and quiet here in the city.”
“Okay.”
“Yeah, I went to the police station and spoke with the officer in charge, a Mr. Kirschbaum. He was very friendly, and took me to the place where Matthías lives. We talked to some of his neighbors and various things emerged.”
“Really?”
“Yes, apparently, it is common knowledge in the area that Matthías and his servant Klemenz are queers who live together as a couple.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, they even seem to be members of a club for men like that, here in the city. Mr. Kirschbaum found their names on a secret list the police keep of clubs of this kind and their membership. You can never be too careful with guys like this.”
“No, that’s true.”
“Well, that was all. Mr. Kirschbaum then drove me to Zell am See, and we drank beer and Jägermeister well into the night. He’s ready to lend assistance if we need any further help in this matter.”
“That’s good news,” said Halldór, looking at the clock. “You’re up early.”
“Yeah, Halli woke us at dawn. He’s off skiing and I’m just getting dressed.”
“Right, have fun.”
“Thanks, good luck.”
“Bye.” Halldór put the receiver down.
Diary XIV
July 20, 1934. My brother Matthías is thirty today. I dare not mention this to my mother, as she never initiates conversations about him. I thought this would change when Father died but I can see no signs to indicate this. I am writing to Matthías secretly to thank him for all his help in Berlin. I am sending him a little book of poetry…
July 26, 1934. Morgunbladid reports clashes in Austria…
July 31, 1934. Completed the purchase of a new automobile today. It is a Ford…
August 3, 1934. Hindenburg, President of Germany, died yesterday. The office will be amalgamated with that of chancellor, and Hitler will, consequently, become the country’s next president…
January 17, 1935. I have been unsure about whether I did the right thing when I decided on one meter gauge rather than standard gauge, as the wider gauge can carry heavier railcars with large snowplows. I have, however, just heard of a new type of rotary snowplow that digs itself through the snow, with big motorized blades throwing the snow to one side. I can have a railcar with a plow like that run before the train to clear the track. Then there is little danger of cancellations on account of the weather…
March 29, 1935. I have had quite a few projects to work on this summer. I cannot see myself being able to finish them all if I am to work on the railroad as well…