By Arnaldur Indridason
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Being a hefty, deaf newcomer virtually makes Will Halpin the least renowned man at Coaler excessive. but if he befriends the single man much less well known than him, the dork-namic duo has the smarts and guts to determine who knocked off the superstar quarterback. Will can’t listen what’s occurring, yet he’s an excellent observer.
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He had already been on the lookout for girls or young women on his way through town: preferably not much over thirty, preferably not stone-cold sober. It was all right if they’d had a bit to drink but he didn’t want them too drunk. He kept a low profile. He patted his jacket pocket once more, to be sure he had it. He had touched the pocket lightly several times on the way, knowing that he must be one of those neurotic types who were forever checking whether they’d locked the door, forgotten their keys, whether the coffee maker was definitely switched off or a hotplate had been left on.
What do you mean? ’ ‘They’re sometimes called date-rape drugs,’ Elínborg replied. Kristjana was staring at her. ‘It’s also possible that he was only selling the drugs, but we aren’t excluding the other possibility. We could be wrong. At this point we haven’t got much to go on. ’ ‘It’s called Rohypnol. It’s a sedative, which puts you to sleep and causes memory loss. We felt you should know. ’ Suddenly the storm battered against the wall of the house. A blizzard masked the view from the windows, and the room grew darker still.
I open them, of course,’ said Petrína, looking at Elínborg as if there were something odd about her. ’ ‘I’m from the police,’ Elínborg reiterated patiently. ‘I’d like to ask you about a man you said you saw outside the house last Saturday night. ’ ‘I don’t sleep much – because of the waves, you see. So I wander around, and wait for them. See my eyes? ’ Petrína craned her head forward to show Elínborg her bloodshot eyes. ‘It’s the waves. That’s what they do to my eyes. Those bloody waves. ’ Elínborg asked politely.
Outrage by Arnaldur Indridason