Voices (Reykjavik Thriller Series #3) Book

In short: A poignant but rather far-fetched police procedural that offers more in the way of a credible psychological angle than a swift and particularly competent wrap-up. The upside is seeing Erlendur's reflections on his own life and mistakes along the way, and appreciating how a person's childhood can influence their later life. Voices is an investigation that takes the reader closer to Erlendur and his troubled daughter, Eva Lind, than ever before and it is due to this clearer understanding of a father-daughter relationship that I am so keen to continue with the series.

After reading Jar City and meeting Inspector Erlendur and his sidekicks, Sigurdur Óli and Elínborg, I was keen to see them in action tackling another investigation. Jar City combined a fascinating and complex investigation with Erlendur providing the social conscience and overseeing a reflective treatment. First published in Icelandic in 2003, Voices was translated into English in 2006 by Bernard Scudder who has delivered a remarkably fluent and highly readable rendering. In the run-up to Christmas, Reykjavík is awash with visitors and festivities should be in full swing inside one of the cities largest and most illustrious hotels. Hotel doorman, pseudo caretaker and annual wearer of the Santa costume, forty-eight-year-old Gudlauger ("Gulli") Egilsson, is however discovered stabbed in him grim basement accommodation within the hotel. Still clad in his Santa costume, with trousers hanging by his ankles and a condom hanging off his limp penis, the inappropriate jokes are two a penny from Sigurdur Óli! In the equivalent of a prison cell sized room, it appears that Gudlauger has spent to last twenty-years and the lack of character and paucity of possessions does not offer much in the way of leads. Naturally the call to the police asks for discretion for the guests, however that is the last concern of Erlendur when he assesses the strange circumstances of the victim and the potential suspects. With a scant lack of concern for the victim, and his inconvenient timing, sympathy from his colleagues is distinctly lacking. The sole possessions to be found in the room is a book relating to the history of the Vienna Boys' Choir and a couple of vinyl records, which offers Erlendur limited opportunity to discover more about the man. It is therefore the presence of saliva on the condom which sees Erlendur taking his first steps and requesting samples, thus necessitating the presence of biotechnician and scene of crime officer Valgerdur, a lady of a similar vintage who also catches the eye of Erlendur.

Despite the obstacles in his path, the indefatigable Erlendur's unwavering persistence to discover the who and the why at the heart of this matter reveal an unexpected and fascinating life history, with the victim's shortlived spell as the most admired Icelandic boys soprano coming to an end when nature intervened at twelve-years-old and his voice broke on stage. Tracing the victims history back to Hafnarfjördur Children's Choir and his former choirmaster, Gabríel Hermannson, Erlendur learns of a life forever blighted by a man's failure to live up to his father's expectations, and marked by crippling bullying and the pattern of self-destruction that such circumstances can set in motion. The most surprising reaction to Gudlauger's murder comes from his remaining estranged family, a wheelchair bound father and sister, Stefanía Egilsdóttir. What lies behind the decades long estrangement of Gudlauger from his family home and why are his relatives so bitter?

Due to staff cutbacks and the lack of necessity for a full-time doorman the victim had been made redundant but subsequently failed to move out from his digs. The manager and staff are all keen to dissociate themselves from the matter and reveal how little they knew of the victim, despite his service and residence of over twenty-years. The slow stripping back of the goings on at the hotel are stymied by the stroppy chambermaid who found the body, Ösp, only telling a fraction of what she knows (in essence, itself a lie) and belatedly throwing accusations of theft, the subsequent reluctance of the reception manager to make himself available for questioning and the availability of prostitutes for guests. Of the guests, it is the rather shifty and eccentric British vinyl collector, Henry Wapshott, who professes to a specific passion for the music of boys's choirs and tells of his journey to Iceland on the agreement of meeting the former household name soprano and purchasing any remaining records in his possession. However, when it turns out that it is not the first visit that Wapshott has made to Iceland, or indeed the hotel, his avoidance of providing a DNA sample and attempts to skip the country force Erlendur to get to probe just what Wapshott is so keen to keep hidden. With no sign of Wapshott's down payment amongst the possession of the dead man, there is clearly much more to a never-ending unravelling.

As Erlendur, reluctant to return to his lonely flat over Christmas, checks into a room at the hotel he is overcome by a malaise as he sees parallels with his own life history and Gudlauger's, in the death of his younger brother which marred his childhood and left him with survivors guilt. In a sense, Erlendur knows that part of him died that day with his brother freezing to death, and this has in turn impacted his own failure and resolve to be part of his children's lives. Opening up about the raw memory and finally facing the way in which it has affected his life, it feels like Erlendur is attempting to address effectively robbing both his offspring of their childhoods when he walked out of their lives in their early years.

Erlendur has much in common with the brooding and rather introspective detectives familiar to Nordic Noir. Middle-aged, divorced for twenty-years, he is a world-weary figure, with a dogged determination and a man who expects little from his remaining years. His failure to keep contact with either of his children at a young age still haunts him and he feels largely responsible for their addiction battles, with son, Sindri Snaer, having been through rehab for alcohol and daughter, Eva Lind, continually engaged in fighting her addiction to drugs and recovering from losing a stillborn daughter, all caused by her reliance on drugs. Whilst his son is a distant stranger, Erlendur and Eva Lind share an occasionally fiery relationship, marked by honesty and an acceptance of each other's faults. Erlendur's unstinting support of Eva Lind with her withdrawal never turns into preaching and readers will be of the opinion that he has been through his own internal struggles. Erlendur is a determined and persistent detective with a compassionate and realistic approach to the failings of society and hence, tackling crime. The case itself is more fascinating for combining an intriguing back story of the victim, rather than particularly plausible and what Indridason lacks in terms of strict adherence to procedural rigour he more than makes up for with his his powerful psychological angle. The overriding tone of this affecting and poignant police procedural is rather reflective, with Elínborg simultaneously engaged in giving evidence and attending the trail of eight-year-old assault victim Addi, with his father on trial for causing his brutal injuries and Elínborg taking the case rather personally. Seeing another young life altered chimes with Gudlauger's situation and evidences how instrumental childhood memories can be in affecting a person's future.

Voices is monumentally more fascinating not for pinning down the perpetrator which is rather loosely detailed, but for the human interest element of the plot and a chance to reflect on the fragility of family life. I wasn't impressed or particularly convinced by the convoluted denouement, which stretches credibility but I do not think tying down the specifics was Indridason's primary focus of a poignant novel. Voices comes highly recommended for its insightful and profound take on family life, and how the increasing dependence on drugs and the associated problems of addiction, such as prostitution, have changed modern society. All of this resonates with Eva Lind's own situation and the stillborn child that threatens to derail her attempts at getting clean. I am keen to see how the future course of this chequered father-daughter relationship progresses after Erlendur's recognition of how his own childhood has impacted his adult life and indeed, Eva Lind's own journey. Voices is an emotive story with an excellent psychological commentary and can be read as a standalone without previous knowledge of the series and the timely use of flashbacks illustrates the situations of Gudlauger, Addi and Erlendur well.