Snowblind by Ragnar Jónasson

enough to me.’
    ‘Really? So what do you reckon happened?’ Pálmi asked, as soon as he and Úlfur were inside the door. Ari Thór followed them in, trailing behind as Tómas took over.
    ‘The poor old fellow fell down the stairs,’ Tómas said with an air of finality.
    ‘What’s that you have there?’ Ari Thór asked, his question directed at Pálmi, who was holding a shopping bag.
    ‘The latest version of the script. A couple of copies.’ He seemed surprised by the interest.
    ‘Hrólfur and I made a few final changes earlier. Pálmi sorted them on the computer at his place and printed out new ones,’ Úlfur explained. ‘We’re opening tomorrow night.’
    ‘I don’t think that’s going to be possible,’ Tómas replied firmly.
    ‘We … we can’t let Hrólfur’s death ruin this for us!’ Úlfur said passionately; but then immediately appeared to regret the outburst.
    ‘That’s no concern of mine,’ Tómas said evenly, taking care to remain courteous. ‘You might be able to have the hall back tomorrow, but it would be best if you postpone your opening night for a few days.’
    Úlfur’s expression swiftly darkened, his eyes bulging. ‘That’simpossible!’ he exploded. Ari Thór had the feeling that this was a man who was used to getting his own way.
    Glancing back and forth between the men, Ari Thór decided that this was a situation that Tómas could handle without his help. Hurrying outside, he positioned himself by the front entrance. He expected Ugla to arrive shortly – he was sure that she would have been at the rehearsal, and he felt a curious need to tell her what had happened personally. He didn’t need to worry about what was going on inside, certain that Tómas, Úlfur and Pálmi would have no interest in his opinions. They’d undoubtedly known each other for years, and could argue and then go their separate ways with any differences settled. Ari Thór was conscious of being from out of town and wet behind the ears – the new copper who wasn’t expected to stay long in Siglufjördur. He was only here to build up a little experience, while Tómas was here for the long haul.
    ‘Hey, what are you doing here?’ Ugla asked, shaking Ari Thór from his thoughts. He hadn’t seen her coming.
    He stopped and thought for a moment, unsure of himself, but not certain why. ‘Something came up,’ he said at last. ‘An accident … an accident on the stairs.’
    The darkness he had noticed before in her eyes suddenly reappeared. Her face asked the question.
    ‘Old Hrólfur fell,’ he said seriously.
    ‘How is he?’ she asked immediately, her face ashen.
    ‘He’s dead. The ambulance has just taken him away.’
    Ugla stood still for a moment, wrapped in silence, and then a few tears began to creep down her cheeks. She stepped closer and put her arms around him. Ari Thór hesitated, and then held her in an embrace.
    After a moment she relaxed her hold and dried her eyes.
    ‘I can’t believe it,’ she said with a sob in her voice, struggling to contain her emotion. ‘I just can’t believe it.’ She briskly wiped the tears away, and tried to smile. ‘He was so sweet.’ She paused for a moment, as if uncertain what to do.
    ‘I think it’s best if I go home. I can’t let people see me like this,’ she said at last and turned quickly away.
    ‘Yes, of course,’ said Ari Thór, after her, then stood in a confused daze as she disappeared into the darkness.
    Úlfur appeared in the doorway; a truce with Tómas must have been reached. Pálmi was close behind him, his scowl thunderous. They said nothing to Ari Thór as they passed, and he slid back inside without looking in their direction.
    ‘Back to the station?’ he asked.
    Tómas glanced at his watch.
    ‘I’ll finish the preliminary report. You can go home if you like. I’ll see you tomorrow. I need to put in a few extra hours anyway,’ Tómas said. He sounded oddly relieved to carry on.
    Anyone would think he didn’t want to