House of Evidence by Viktor Arnar Ingólfsson Read Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Viktor Arnar Ingólfsson
attention to detail lay behind this. He looked at the next caption: “Electric chandelier in parlor.Purchased by Alfred Kieler in Stettin 1922. Made in Beringer’s workshop in that city. This type is attributed to him.”
Halldór flipped to another page: “Porcelain chamber pot. Purchased in Copenhagen 1895.”
He smiled, closed the album, and put it back in its place.
On the shelf next to the albums was a row of diaries. The period covered by each book was inscribed in black lettering on each book’s spine. There were twelve in all, the first labeled “June 30, 1910–February 23, 1912,” and the last “March 1, 1931–January 10, 1932.” Halldór picked out the first book and examined its title page.
Diary started in the spring of 1910. Jacob Kieler student, born March 4, 1890.
Halldór looked at the dead man in the parlor. His name was the same, but he was known as Jacob Junior, so he was probably the son of the Jacob who had written the diaries. Halldór looked up the first entry. The handwriting was clear and very legible:
June 30, 1910. Today I graduated from high school. After the ceremony at the school, there was a coffee party on the lawn in front of the new house my father is having built on his lot next to Laufástún. Father gave me this book and suggested I should keep a diary.
Hearing a noise, Halldór quickly put the diary away and went out into the parlor. He found Jóhann and Marteinn carrying insome bags and Fridrik Leifsson, the pathologist, following close behind. Halldór and Fridrik had served together on the parish council and were friends.
“Sorry to be so late,” Fridrik said, as they shook hands. He squatted awkwardly by the body, examined it carefully, and then stood up.
“It would be very good to have an estimated time of death,” Halldór said.
“I’ll try and work something out,” replied Fridrik. He waited until Jóhann had taken a few photographs, then laid the body carefully on its back on the floor and loosened the clothes in front, before taking some instruments from his case.
Halldór retreated to one of the many windows and looked out at the snow-covered lawn. He knew that Fridrik was going to stick a thermometer into the body’s abdominal cavity and measure the temperature of the liver, enabling him to estimate time of death. Halldór preferred not to watch.
He spotted Erlendur accompanied by a man wearing a long black overcoat and black hat out on the street in front of the house. They had arrived at the yellow tape cordoning off the road, and he watched as Erlendur ducked underneath it.
They were met by a police officer, and the man in the black overcoat said something, pointing at the yellow tape with the walking stick he carried. The officer removed the tape from the fence and the man proceeded, following Erlendur through the gate and toward the house.
Halldór turned back around. Fridrik had covered the body with a green sheet and was scrutinizing his notebook. “If the parlor was this cold all night, then he must have died at one thirty, give or take an hour.”
Diary II
April 10, 1912. Snitkræfter og deformationer i statiken (stress and distortion in load-bearing structures) this morning. My calculations were correct. A German lesson with Mrs. Heger in the afternoon. Remained there well into the evening…
April 25, 1912. My mother and father arrived here in Copenhagen this morning from Hamburg. My father is on a business trip and they used the opportunity to visit me and celebrate my father’s birthday. I showed them the city today. They think that I have become very sophisticated. My father gave me the money I needed, and agreed to the plan I have made for the next four years. I am extremely grateful that my parents are able to support me financially, because I have watched some very talented young men being driven from their studies by lack of funds…My father has a significant birthday today, he is 50…
May 13, 1912. My fellow student
Halldór flipped to another page: “Porcelain chamber pot. Purchased in Copenhagen 1895.”
He smiled, closed the album, and put it back in its place.
On the shelf next to the albums was a row of diaries. The period covered by each book was inscribed in black lettering on each book’s spine. There were twelve in all, the first labeled “June 30, 1910–February 23, 1912,” and the last “March 1, 1931–January 10, 1932.” Halldór picked out the first book and examined its title page.
Diary started in the spring of 1910. Jacob Kieler student, born March 4, 1890.
Halldór looked at the dead man in the parlor. His name was the same, but he was known as Jacob Junior, so he was probably the son of the Jacob who had written the diaries. Halldór looked up the first entry. The handwriting was clear and very legible:
June 30, 1910. Today I graduated from high school. After the ceremony at the school, there was a coffee party on the lawn in front of the new house my father is having built on his lot next to Laufástún. Father gave me this book and suggested I should keep a diary.
Hearing a noise, Halldór quickly put the diary away and went out into the parlor. He found Jóhann and Marteinn carrying insome bags and Fridrik Leifsson, the pathologist, following close behind. Halldór and Fridrik had served together on the parish council and were friends.
“Sorry to be so late,” Fridrik said, as they shook hands. He squatted awkwardly by the body, examined it carefully, and then stood up.
“It would be very good to have an estimated time of death,” Halldór said.
“I’ll try and work something out,” replied Fridrik. He waited until Jóhann had taken a few photographs, then laid the body carefully on its back on the floor and loosened the clothes in front, before taking some instruments from his case.
Halldór retreated to one of the many windows and looked out at the snow-covered lawn. He knew that Fridrik was going to stick a thermometer into the body’s abdominal cavity and measure the temperature of the liver, enabling him to estimate time of death. Halldór preferred not to watch.
He spotted Erlendur accompanied by a man wearing a long black overcoat and black hat out on the street in front of the house. They had arrived at the yellow tape cordoning off the road, and he watched as Erlendur ducked underneath it.
They were met by a police officer, and the man in the black overcoat said something, pointing at the yellow tape with the walking stick he carried. The officer removed the tape from the fence and the man proceeded, following Erlendur through the gate and toward the house.
Halldór turned back around. Fridrik had covered the body with a green sheet and was scrutinizing his notebook. “If the parlor was this cold all night, then he must have died at one thirty, give or take an hour.”
Diary II
April 10, 1912. Snitkræfter og deformationer i statiken (stress and distortion in load-bearing structures) this morning. My calculations were correct. A German lesson with Mrs. Heger in the afternoon. Remained there well into the evening…
April 25, 1912. My mother and father arrived here in Copenhagen this morning from Hamburg. My father is on a business trip and they used the opportunity to visit me and celebrate my father’s birthday. I showed them the city today. They think that I have become very sophisticated. My father gave me the money I needed, and agreed to the plan I have made for the next four years. I am extremely grateful that my parents are able to support me financially, because I have watched some very talented young men being driven from their studies by lack of funds…My father has a significant birthday today, he is 50…
May 13, 1912. My fellow student
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