Read Reykjavik Nights for Free Online Page A

Erlendur replied, without elaborating. ‘Did he stay here often?’
    â€˜He wandered in off the street every now and then. Last time I saw him I had to turn him away for being drunk and making a nuisance of himself. I gather he was sleeping up by the hot-water pipes towards the end.’
    â€˜That’s right. Not far from where they found him in Kringlumýri.’
    â€˜Poor man.’
    â€˜So he was sober the times he stayed here?’
    â€˜Had to be – we don’t allow any drinking.’
    â€˜Did you talk to him at all?’
    â€˜No, not that I recall. Just went over the rules with him, as I always do.’
    â€˜Did he come here often when he was sober?’
    â€˜From time to time, as I said, but usually he was in such a state that we couldn’t admit him. There were maybe two or three occasions when he was allowed to stay. No more. Then he had to leave in the morning like everybody else.’
    â€˜Did he associate with any of your regulars? Can you remember?’ asked Erlendur.
    â€˜Not off the top of my head. But it’s not a big community.’
    â€˜Community?’
    â€˜Reykjavík’s drinkers.’
    â€˜No, I suppose not, though they certainly make their mark on the town.’
    â€˜That’s nothing new. Most of them know each other. I vaguely remember him complaining that someone had tried to set fire to him. Can that be right?’
    â€˜The cellar where he was sleeping caught fire, yes. The owner reckoned he’d started the blaze himself by accident. Did he tell you different?’
    â€˜Well, as far as I remember, he was extremely resentful about how he’d been treated. The incident’s stayed with me because that was the last time I saw him. He was fuming about being evicted. Does that fit?’
    â€˜Sounds right. The cellar was a total dump but at least it was a roof over his head. Did he mention being blamed for the fire?’
    â€˜No, just ranted on about it – he was the worse for wear and didn’t hang about long. In my line of work you hear so many sob stories and excuses, so many complaints and accusations about everything under the sun that in the end you stop listening.’
    *   *   *
    When Erlendur left the Fever Hospital shortly afterwards, the drunk man was still standing in the street outside. To combat the unsteadiness of his legs he had propped himself against a fence from where he hailed Erlendur.
    â€˜You pissed too?’
    Erlendur stopped and considered the man in his thick winter coat and hat; the grimy hands, the wrinkles etched deep in his face. He could be either side of fifty.
    â€˜No, I’m not pissed.’ Erlendur went over. ‘Won’t they take you?’
    â€˜Arseholes,’ said the man.
    â€˜If you sober up, they’ll give you food and shelter. They can’t have everyone wandering around drunk though, can they?’
    The man gave him a look of contempt; clearly this was unworthy of a response.
    â€˜You wouldn’t by any chance remember a guy called Hannibal? Used to come down here.’
    â€˜Hannibal?’ the man said sharply.
    â€˜Yes.’
    â€˜I knew Hannibal. Why are you asking?’
    â€˜I –’
    â€˜He was drowned like a dog.’
    â€˜What do you mean?’
    â€˜What do I mean? I mean someone went out there and drowned the poor sod.’
    â€˜Why do you say that?’
    â€˜I just know.’
    â€˜Did you see it?’
    â€˜No, I didn’t. But I saw plenty of other things.’
    â€˜Why are you so sure, then?’
    â€˜How else did he drown in that puddle? Eh? You tell me!’
    â€˜So you –’
    â€˜Me? No, wasn’t me. I had nothing to do with it.’
    â€˜So what did you see?’
    â€˜Eh?’
    â€˜You said you’d seen plenty of other things. What did you mean?’
    â€˜I see things,’ repeated the tramp. ‘And I know things too. Don’t