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Back Cold as Hell Save as PDF
Chapters (115)
  1. COLD AS HELL
  2. PRONUNCIATION GUIDE
  3. CONTENTS
  4. 1
  5. 2
  6. 3
  7. 4
  8. 5
  9. 6
  10. 7
  11. 8
  12. 9
  13. 10
  14. 11
  15. 12
  16. 13
  17. 14
  18. 15
  19. 16
  20. 17
  21. 18
  22. 19
  23. 20
  24. 21
  25. 22
  26. 23
  27. 24
  28. 25
  29. 26
  30. 27
  31. 28
  32. 29
  33. 30
  34. 31
  35. 32
  36. 33
  37. 34
  38. 35
  39. 36
  40. 37
  41. 38
  42. 39
  43. 40
  44. 41
  45. 42
  46. 43
  47. 44
  48. 45
  49. 46
  50. 47
  51. 48
  52. 49
  53. 50
  54. 51
  55. 52
  56. 53
  57. 54
  58. 55
  59. 56
  60. 57
  61. 58
  62. 59
  63. 60
  64. 61
  65. 62
  66. 63
  67. 64
  68. 65
  69. 66
  70. 67
  71. 68
  72. 69
  73. 70
  74. 71
  75. 72
  76. 73
  77. 74
  78. 75
  79. 76
  80. 77
  81. 78
  82. 79
  83. 80
  84. 81
  85. 82
  86. 83
  87. 84
  88. 85
  89. 86
  90. 87
  91. 88
  92. 89
  93. 90
  94. 91
  95. 92
  96. 93
  97. 94
  98. 95
  99. 96
  100. 97
  101. 98
  102. 99
  103. 100
  104. 101
  105. 102
  106. 103
  107. 104
  108. 105
  109. 106
  110. 107
  111. 108
  112. ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
  113. ABOUT THE AUTHOR
  114. ABOUT THE TRANSLATOR
  115. COPYRIGHT

That word, ‘sorry’, took hold of him, and it was as if his body was swamped with regret, a full bowl of remorse, so that it flooded out of him with the tears he was unable to control, blinding him so that the case blurred into the lava in a grey haze, as if the whole world were dissolving into a river of salt tears.

‘Sorry, sorry, sorry.’

While it was too late, it was a relief to say it. He knew perfectly well that she couldn’t hear him, but his plea for forgiveness was more for him than for her. He had to forgive himself for not having called the police more often, for not having gone up there a few more times to yell at Björn to pack it in, for not having applied more pressure on Ísafold to get her to walk out, for having allowed things to go on for so long that desperate measures had been called for. He needed to forgive himself for the fact that the woman he loved lay alone, stuffed into a suitcase and dropped into a ravine in a lava field, far away from anything beautiful, her lament the screeches of the wheeling gulls and the roar of jets as they approached Keflavík.193

‘You won’t be alone much longer,’ he whispered, wiping his face. ‘I hope you can forgive me.’

He hauled himself out of the fissure in the rocks, jogged the little way to his car and sat inside. It was a while before he was able to control his breathing and the tears that threatened again and again to well up in his eyes. Once he was calmer, he reached for the glove compartment, took out the jewellery box containing the ring and opened it. He had bought the box from a jeweller, but now he was assailed by second thoughts. Black with a gilded band; maybe it was too dark. Perhaps a pink bow around it would add some colour, make it more feminine. But, of course, the packaging was unimportant. The ring itself was the main thing. He could allow Björn that the ring was beautiful. He had chosen a wonderful ring, with a ruby as red as fire instead of a diamond, making it different to most of the engagement rings you saw these days. But Björn should never have had the honour of putting it on Ísafold’s finger. Björn was a bastard who had never deserved Ísafold. Just as he didn’t deserve this new, vivacious and stunning girlfriend.

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