House of Evidence(99)
Klemenz had finished his account and now sat forlornly on the sofa, his head down, tears silently falling down his cheeks. Acting on an impulse, Hrefna moved over to the sofa, sat down next to him, and put her arm around his shoulders. He leaned his head on her chest and cried like a child. She hugged him and thought about this man, this human being—this woman, because she now felt in her heart that the person she held in her arms was an old, tired, grief-stricken woman. A woman who might have become a good mother and a good grandmother, had not a quirk of nature put her into the wrong body many, many years ago.
And still, fate had continued to prey upon her, right up to now. What an ordeal, to have had to conduct one’s life in such deception, just to be able to live in peace with someone you love. Perhaps things will change one day, and people will be able to live the way they were created.
Hrefna recalled having held her mother like this in difficult times, when she had become ill; even the perfume smelled the same.
They remained like this for a long time, until Klemenz recovered himself and sat up.
“Thank you for being so kind to me,” he said, and blew his nose into a white handkerchief.
It was dark outside when Hrefna left Klemenz. She walked through town enjoying the cool breeze. Her head felt empty, and she barely registered the displays in the shop windows she passed. When she reached Borgartún, she found the detective team gathered together in the office.
Something was wrong. Jóhann wiped a tear from his cheek and sniffed. Halldór was cleaning invisible dust from his glasses, and Egill paced the floor, his head bowed. Marteinn sat with his head down, wringing his hands.
“Has something happened?” she asked.
Jóhann looked up and nodded. Then he asked her to come into the lab with him. For the second time that day, he wanted to talk to her in private.
Diary XVIII
December 3, 1943. I dreamed about my brother Matthías last night. He was standing here in the garden, talking a lot, but there was no sound coming from his lips…
February 25, 1944. The Althing passed a unanimous resolution to sever the union with Denmark and annul the Danish-Icelandic federal treaty of 1918. There will be a national referendum at a later date…
May 21, 1944. We went to the polling station and voted for the break-up of the union with Denmark and the formation of a republic…
June 1, 1944. The results of the referendum have now come in. Separation from Denmark: 70,536 for, 365 against. Establishment of Republic of Iceland: 68,862 for, 1,064 against. Average turnout over the whole country was 98.61%. In some constituencies the turnout was 100%.
June 17, 1944. We got up at 6 o’clock this morning and drove to Thingvellir, all four of us. It rained. We were present at Lögberg when the republic was formally inaugurated. The Regent of Iceland was elected as the country’s first president, a good compromise. I am, nevertheless, still of the opinion that crowning a king of Iceland would have generated an even more solemn occasion. We did not want to overnight at Thingvellir, and got home just after midnight.
August 10, 1944. This is the last entry in this diary, the eighteenth of the series. The nineteenth lies here on the table, brand new and ready to receive the record of days to come, and my thoughts on matters concerning this country and its people. With these diaries, I have sought to be honest; I thus learn more about myself and gain a perspective of the development of my life. This also means, on the other hand, that I do not want all and sundry to have access to these, my writings, and have therefore consigned them to a safe place. This particularly applies to the diaries dating from 1932, books that are to remain indefinitely closed to all persons. Yet I cannot bring myself to destroy them. My descendants may read those diaries that deal with the years before 1932, numbers 1–12, if they so wish after my death. Elizabeth is aware of this decision of mine, and will ensure it is observed. I can trust her in all matters…
After Jóhann and Hrefna had talked together privately in the lab, he took her home in his car. They drove there silently; she felt numb and tired, and she needed to think. When Jóhann stopped the car outside her house, however, she stayed in her seat.
“I handed in my letter of resignation this morning.”
“Did you have to do that?” Jóhann implored. “Not all days are as bad as these have been.”
“No, I’ve thought this out very carefully. I’ve been offered a job at a law firm. I’m going to accept it and go to night classes to finish my university entrance exams; I’ve already completed five terms for them a few years back. Then I’m going to study law at the university.”