Read Online Blackout by Ragnar Jónasson - Free Book Online Page A

observe.
    Occasionally he went to church, more out of habit than devotion, although he had his own faith. He had a belief in a higher power, but as he never expected to get answers, he rarely went to God for advice.
    He was in his forties now. He hadn’t intended to be living in the old house in Dalvík by the time he reached forty. The plan had been to salt away some money and move somewhere else. He was born and had lived here all his life, with only a few breaks. He had rented an apartment and worked down south for a while, even though he owned the house in Dalvík outright, now that his parents were both dead. Svavar liked the town, but he dreamed of a little flat somewhere in southern Europe, preferably close to the beach, where he could take it easy, and enjoy the sunshine and many long drinks. There wasn’t much he wouldn’t do to have those dreams come true.
    A little earlier, Svavar had watched the news.
    Now he sat by the window and thought about the Almighty.
    For once, he was slightly confused.
    Questions about life and death plagued him.
    His own life and the death of someone else.
    He wondered how far he would be prepared to go to save his own skin.
    Svavar wanted to live to the full the one life he was offered – he had no intention of doing so under lock and key.
    But it wasn’t just the prospect of prison that concerned him. Svavar knew that if he was to go to the police, it was death that he should fear. His own death.
    If only he could know for certain how serious the consequences of going to the police might be, perhaps that would help his decision. He certainly had a clear enough idea of what could happen if he didn’t go to them.
    Over the years the expression that something was a ‘matter of life or death’ had often tripped off his tongue, but it was only now that he was able to appreciate the true meaning.
    He continued to stare out of the window in the hope that he would somehow be presented with an answer to his dilemma: do the right thing, save a life but face the inevitable consequences; or keep everything to himself and live with his conscience for the rest of his days.

11
    The coffee corner at the Siglufjörður police station was a popular spot whenever there was something out of the ordinary to investigate. The first of the day’s visitors was Ómar, the retired skipper, who made an appearance not long after the news was made public that the body found was that of a man who had not only worked on the new tunnel but also lived in Siglufjörður.
    Ómar was one of the station’s regular visitors – although of his own free will, looking for a cup of coffee at the police station whenever he felt like company. Nobody was quite sure what ship he had commanded, but the name ‘Skipper’ stuck to him as firmly as the Reverend nickname had attached itself to Ari Thór, who had never had a congregation.
    ‘How are you, Ómar?’ Tómas asked as they both took their places at the table.
    ‘Not so bad, my boy. And you?’
    Tómas wasn’t prepared to chat about his own feelings. He knew exactly what Ómar was fishing for – probably some gossip about Tómas’s wife, who had ‘temporarily’ moved south to Reykjavík. Tómas suspected that his communication with his wife or, rather, the lack of it, had become a popular topic for the gossips around the town.
    ‘I’m fine,’ Tómas said, with more enthusiasm than he felt. In fact , he thought, sometimes I am fine , but that was only when he wasn’t thinking of his wife. He longed to move to Reykjavík to be with her, but that was easier said than done. He’d considered a short career break, maybe a year’s sabbatical, to go and live in the south. He’dbeen pleased and reassured to see that there was a resilience about Ari Thór, and Tómas considered the possibility that he might be able to run things on a temporary basis if Tómas were to take a break.
    ‘Keeping busy today?’
    ‘Well, as busy as usual,’ Tómas replied, keeping