A deeply engaging and very enjoyable Icelandic crime story. Konrad is a retired detective who is requested by the police to investigate a cold case where the body of the victim has resurfaced from a glacier thirty years after he disappeared. Konrad had led the investigation and had identified a prime suspect, there was not enough evidence to charge him. The cold case investigation raises questions and memories for Konrad and the same frustrations as the original investigation. When a woman approaches Konrad regarding the death of her brother unexpected connections emerge that raise new possibilities for the cold case. The investigations are thoughtful, the reveals are superbly staged, and the conclusion is satisfying and unexpected.
Arnaldur Indridason has used decompressed writing for this story and his assured, confident writing means that it never feels stretched out. It is a cold case, one that has trailed after Konrad for his career and after retirement. He is active but not busy, there is a degree of reluctance on the part of Konrad to really engage fully with the case. The passing of time has raised questions about his decisions and conduct in the first investigation. His status as a retired officer leading the investigation is slightly ambiguous. The arrival of the second case is the development that allows him to examine everything from a new standpoint and to finally find the path to revealing what had happened. This approach could have drained the story of energy, instead it brings the reader closer into the process.
Konrad is a engaging character, at a little bit of a loss following his retirement and the loss of his wife. Unsure about returning to investigate a case he saw as a failure, not really knowing what to do. The pressure of the work slowly forces Konrad to escape his indecision and be an active participant in his own life. The rest of the cast are lively and engage the reader with confident ease. There are a pair of walk-ons who made a very surprising discovery that capture the depth of craft that Arnaldur Indridason brings to the story. They are plot critical and never feel forced or required, they are so much just themselves.
Victoria Cribb’s translation is utterly transparent, the atmosphere of the story, the flavour of the cast are clearly not Anglophone, they are confidently Icelandic, the translation reveals them it never paints over them. A deep, rich pleasure.
