House of Evidence(95)

“No. I’ve been carrying this in my bag for a few days; I just haven’t got around to giving it to you. But today’s a very suitable day for it; there are plenty of good reasons.”

“I’m not going to try to talk you out of it,” Halldór said. There was a short silence before he added, “I’m thinking of quitting myself.”

I’m not going to try to talk you out of it either, Hrefna thought, but she didn’t say anything.



Diary XVIII


November 1, 1942. Went ptarmigan shooting today with Jacob Junior. We drove to Kolvidarhóll and hiked up past Mt. Hengill. The weather was fine and plenty of game. Jacob is a poor shot and not very interested in hunting, but he likes to walk with me and carry the bag. He also really enjoys looking after the guns for me, cleaning them and oiling them. We practiced shooting with the revolver…


March 23, 1943. Yet again the communists were creating trouble over the drainage project. I managed to settle matters so that the work was finished by evening. Mr. Wallace thanked me especially for it…





Hrefna opted to go on foot to see Klemenz; the weather was ideal for walking, and she needed time to think. She was used to delivering bad news in this job. Many times she had had to visit people and tell them of their loved ones’ demise, and though she suffered with them, she did not shirk these tasks. Now, however, she felt unusually anxious. Someone had already phoned Klemenz the night before to tell him of Matthías’s death, but she would have to ask questions about their private life, and she was not happy about it.

Half an hour later she was standing outside the apartment; she grasped the knocker and rapped on the door.

A finely dressed older woman answered. For a moment, Hrefna imagined this to be a female visitor of Klemenz’s, but when the woman said “Hello,” Hrefna recognized the voice immediately.

Klemenz was wearing a dark gray, two-piece suit with a pale pink silk blouse, nylon stockings, and black high-heeled shoes. His face was carefully made up and his black hair was nicely blow-dried. He had on a pair of modest earrings and a matching necklace.

“I hope my being dressed like this doesn’t upset you,” Klemenz said as he invited her in. “I wasn’t expecting visitors, and I find it easier to cope with my grief if I am wearing my own clothes.”

“Umm…” Hrefna hesitated. “I just need a bit of time to get used to it.”

“The men’s clothes were just an uncomfortable disguise,” Klemenz explained. “Matthías preferred me to wear them in public, of course, and I complied with his wishes. Now I don’t need to anymore.”

He invited Hrefna into the parlor, and she couldn’t help but notice how feminine his movements were. As he sat down, she said, “I should like to offer you my condolences on the death of your loved one.”

“Thank you.”

“The last twenty-four hours have been very difficult for you, I imagine.”

“Yes, my dear, this has been difficult. Matthías and I have lived together, been a family, for over forty years. We have gone through thick and thin together, been as one. And then, when my spouse dies, I just get a phone call from the detective division to announce that he is dead and that the family will be in touch for a final salary settlement.”

Hrefna bit her lip. She wished that Halldór had had the sense to let her speak to Klemenz the evening before.

“We were actually prepared for the eventuality of one of us dying before the other, and had made financial arrangements,” Klemenz continued. “I do not, therefore, have to worry about being unfairly treated in that respect.”

Hrefna did not write any of this down, the notebook and the pen remaining untouched in her bag. She knew that she could remember every word of this conversation if necessary, and she doubted much of it would end up in the official report anyway.

“Tell me about your relationship with Matthías,” she finally asked. “If you care to do that and feel able to, that is,” she added.

Klemenz thought for a moment. “It’s probably good to talk at times like this. Besides, I have no secrets anymore.” He paused again and then said, “I am not a homosexual man. I am a woman in a male body. There has never been any doubt in my mind. My earliest memories are of feeling confused when people talked about me as if I was boy. I knew I was a girl!

“My father was a seaman and my mother worked in a shop. I was a biddable kid and mostly looked after myself. I just always had this compulsion to swap clothes with the girls I played with.”

Hrefna smiled faintly, and Klemenz went on. “When I reached puberty I only had feelings for men, there was never any doubt about that. Still, my sex life was very limited. I did not have a strong sexual drive, and my first lovers were unfortunate souls, desperate over the shame and guilt attached to their urges. I never felt guilty, just disappointed when my lovers turned out to be rather worthless characters. All that changed when I met Matthías.”