As the boat left the jetty, Thóra waved at two boys who were swimming around the harbour in wetsuits. One winked back but the other, who appeared to be several years older, acted as though he didn’t see her and kept swimming after a little boat that had left the harbour at the same time as Thóra, Bella and their guide.
‘Haven’t they banned puffin-hunting now?’ Thóra asked the weather-beaten man at the tiller when she saw the pocket- nets lined up in the other boat. ‘I read somewhere that they were having trouble nesting, for the third year in a row,’ she added, wondering if she sounded like a resident of the Islands.
‘Yes, yes,’ said the man, clearly unimpressed. ‘It’s not a ban, just a recommendation. People can hunt puffins for their own consumption as long as they don’t affect the stock.’
‘Is that what those men are doing?’ she asked, pointing at the little boat about to overtake them.
Paddi the Hook waved at the three men, who lifted their hands in return. None of them smiled or showed any emotion. Thóra watched Paddi at the helm as he stared out to sea. When they met him she had been relieved to see he still had both hands, since she’d been wondering why he had the nickname ‘Hook’. As they sailed past Heimaklettur Cliff they saw a young man sitting at the top, many metres above them. He was surrounded by dead puffins. At his side lay a pocket-net,and he had stuck a yellow flag into a grassy patch just behind him. Puffins were circling all around him. ‘What’s the flag for?’ asked Thóra, expecting it to be some sort of security measure.
‘Puffins are curious by nature,’replied Paddi the Hook, after looking up to see what Thóra was pointing at. ‘They want to see the flag, which makes it easier for the boy to catch them.’
‘Does he have a large family?’said Thóra, surprised at the number of birds lying like felled saplings around the young hunter.
‘Lining up the dead birds like that calms the fear of the ones still flying around,’ replied Paddi, choosing to ignore Thóra’s snide remark about the number of puffins.‘They don’t know what happened to their comrades so they think it’s safe to come near.’
Thóra decided to stop asking about puffin hunting. She knew the man saw her as a typical city mouse who knew nothing about hunting and didn’t really have the right to comment. She knew how he felt; it really got on her nerves when foreign whaling activists protested against Icelanders hunting whales. She didn’t want to offend the skipper, so she settled for silently watching the boy on the cliff edge as he swept the net in wide arcs over his head. She smiled to herself when the puffin he had his eye on narrowly avoided capture and continued its ungainly flight. She was on the puffin’s side; there was something quite appealing about it, the clumsy little thing. The booklet Thóra had read while waiting for Bella to get changed said that the puffin mated for life. In the autumn each member of the nesting pair went its own way, but the male would return several weeks ahead of the female. Thóra was particularly impressed that the male used the time to clean the cave and make it presentable for his spouse. When their palace was fit for a queen, he would sit at the entrance and wait for his mate. She was equally struck by the fact that if the female did not come back the male took a new mate, who he kicked out immediately if the first one returned. ‘Are we going far?’ she asked as they entered open water.
‘If you want to catch anything we’ve got to go a bit farther out,’ said Paddi, scanning the horizon as if he expected leaping schools of fish to appear any second.
‘It doesn’t bother me if we don’t catch anything,’ chirped Bella. ‘I don’t eat fish. I think it’s disgusting.’ Thóra turned to her and scowled meaningfully – they had to keep Paddi sweet, and that wasn’t the way to do it. Bella gave her a sharp look in return, but added: ‘I think puffin is absolutely delicious, though.’Thóra breathed easier.
Paddi the Hook muttered something unintelligible and continued to scrutinize the calm water. They couldn’t have asked for better weather. The rays of the sun bounced off the shallow waves, creating a glittering sea of light.
Paddi stopped the boat just beyond Bjarnarey Island. On the tall, sheer cliff walls rising from the sea they could see the ropes that were used to clamber up to the grassy area at the top of the island, where there was a handsome hunting shed. Thóra didn’t know what would induce her to climb up there. If she ever did go up, she would have to live there forever – she would never make it back down.‘Let’s try here,’ said the old sailor, wiping his hands on his tattered jeans. ‘We should be able to catch something.’ A gaggle of seagulls that had been hovering above the boat drifted down and settled on the sea, where they rocked in the waves. They were obviously hoping for a free lunch.
‘Well then, now the great hunt begins,’ said Paddi, and he showed them to the lower deck where several large, powerful rods were set up next to an open barrel. Paddi handed each of them their own leather belt with a holster for the rod, and helped them to fasten them. Luckily the belt just reached around Bella, who took all Paddi’s comments about it calmly, without blushing. He showed them how to position themselves before strapping on his own belt and taking his place next to them. ‘You’ve got to make sure you let the line go all the way to the bottom,’ he said, taking a pinch of snuff. ‘That’s where the fish are,’ he said, and watched them critically. Thóra’s sunglasses had slipped down her nose, but she didn’t dare let go of the rod for fear that it would fall into the sea.
Thóra silently prayed no fish would bite her hook, and tried to avoid letting her line sink all the way to the bottom as Paddi had recommended. This was difficult, as she had no idea where the line was located. For all she knew she could be scraping the bottom in the middle of a hungry school of fish. She looked back at Heimaey, where the new lava could be seen clearly. ‘That was quite a disaster,’ she said, directing her statement at Paddi.
‘You mean the eruption?’ he asked. His rod jerked slightly and he started to reel the line in.
‘Yes,’ said Thóra, sweeping her rod clumsily over her shoulder and back out over the gunwale as Paddi had shown them. ‘Did you live here back then?’
‘Yes, I’ve lived here all my life,’ he answered, still reeling his line in. ‘It’s been great.’
Thóra didn’t understand what he meant by this. ‘What did you take with you from home, in the evacuation?’ she asked curiously. What would a man like this choose to save? A fishing rod, or his favourite bottle of whisky?
‘I took my wife,’ replied Paddi, tautening his line. ‘And it was a good thing I did, because my house was one of the first to disappear beneath the lava. I would have had a tough time finding a new wife.’ He leaned into his line and turned the reel with enormous effort. Up came two haddock. Paddi removed the hooks and threw the wriggling fish into the barrel. Thóra and Bella gawped at it as a knocking sound came from inside. They had both expected the man to knock the fish out, not let them die slowly. Paddi wiped his hands on a stained towel tied to the ladder rail and turned back to the women, who were still staring dumbly at the barrel. ‘You need to grip tighter,’ he said, and came over to them, whereupon they immediately made a feeble effort to perform correctly. ‘You don’t want me to do it all for you.’
Bella let out a shout as her line suddenly tautened. ‘I’ve got one!’ she yelled, as if she wanted the occupants of the hunting shed to hear them, hundreds of feet above. ‘What do I do?’ The old man went over to her. He was so bow- legged that the fish barrel would have fitted easily between his knees. He helped Bella reel in her catch; a redfish, so small it would barely make a canape. The seagulls cried out, excited now that something was happening.
‘Can’t we throw it back?’implored Thóra. ‘It’s so tiny, poor thing.’ She pitied the poor fish, which dangled from the hook. ‘Is the wound too deep for it to live?’
‘No, no,’ said Paddi calmly, putting on rubber gloves. Thóra recalled that redfish could be poisonous if they came into contact with an open wound. She had no idea where this poison was to be found on the fish, but judging by how carefully Paddi freed it from the hook, it must have been on its skin. He lifted the gaping fish.‘Should I let it go? It’s your call.’
Thóra and Bella nodded in unison and watched happily as Paddi threw the fish overboard, but instead of darting away it just floated on its side. It seemed to be trying to swim with the fin that was poking up. ‘Why won’t it swim off?’ asked Thóra, trying to remain calm. ‘Is it more injured than you thought?’ She was furious at the man.
‘Oh,’ said Paddi, unconcerned.‘It’s a deep-sea fish, and it fills with air when it comes up from the bottom. It can’t sink. I forgot about that. It would have been better off in the barrel.’
‘How could you not remember that?’ cried Thóra.
‘I’m not in the habit of releasing my catch, dear lady,’ said Paddi grumpily. Thóra wasn’t sure whether he was irritated with her or with himself.
The seagulls surrounded the wretched fish, which still lay half submerged on its side, trying to swim with the fin that was above the water. They drew nearer. Thóra couldn’t help watching, though she had no desire to witness what happened next. She felt uncomfortable, and was beginning to regret having had a drink in the bar. Suddenly the movement of the boat and the smell of the catch in the barrel were making her nauseous. She closed her eyes and breathed through her mouth, which helped a little. Her queasiness erupted again when she opened her eyes and saw that the fish was still locked in a drawn-out but hopeless fight to the death. One of the seagulls stretched out its neck and pecked at the fish’s side. The three of them stood side by side on the boat, watching silently.
Thóra wished that either she’d kept her mouth shut when the fish was reeled in or she had a net to fish it out again. Suddenly all the seagulls flocked around the redfish in a feeding frenzy. The fish could be seen twitching a few times before it finally died, much to Thóra’s relief. When the seagulls flew up again, full and contented, there was almost nothing left of it. Paddi turned to look at Thóra and Bella, noting their identical expressions of horror.‘Are you sure you like deep-sea fishing?’ he asked. ‘We could easily change this into a sightseeing trip if you’d rather.’
‘Maybe that would be best,’replied Thóra, and Bella nodded. ‘We’re not going to make good fishermen.’ She smiled at him. ‘Why don’t you take us on a short tour? The reason I booked a trip was actually to ask you about a couple of things – we were told that you’re the man who knows the most about people in the Islands.’
‘I see,’ said Paddi, taken aback.‘Why didn’t you just say so?’
‘I didn’t want to deprive you of a tour and I thought we could combine the two, fishing and conversation.’
They made their way to the upper deck, which had the best view of the magnificent scenery, and Paddi set sail again.‘I expect you’ve heard about the bodies in the basement,’said Thóra. ‘I’m working for Markus Magnusson, who has unfortunately been linked to the case.’
‘I have heard,’ said Paddi, looking straight ahead. ‘This isn’t a big town and when something like this hits the headlines everyone follows the story, me included.’
‘So you may also know that Alda Thórgeirsdóttir seems to have been murdered, and that Markus is a suspect?’
The old man snorted loudly. ‘The police in Reykjavik know nothing if they think Markus harmed a hair on Alda’s head,’ he exclaimed. ‘That boy used to think the sun shone out of her in the old days, and although teenage crushes aren’t the kind of thing I’d usually notice, everyone knew about it. With the possible exception of Alda. Even Gudni says the arrest is ridiculous, and he’s made a few blunders in his career.’
Although Thóra was pleased to hear Paddi’s opinion of the case, she wasn’t looking for witnesses to Markus’s character. ‘Have you any thoughts on who the men in the basement might have been?’ she said. ‘It’s fairly clear that they were foreigners.’
‘Yes, Brits, I believe,’ said Paddi. Obviously he hadn’t been exaggerating when he said news spread quickly in the Islands. ‘There were no Brits here the night of the eruption, if that’s your question.’
‘What about shortly before that?’asked Thóra. ‘Anyone who could have disappeared, but who people thought had simply gone away? When someone disappears, people don’t automatically assume they’ve been killed. Especially not a group of men.’
‘There were several foreigners in the Islands about a week before the volcano blew,’ he said. ‘But they were gone before it went up. Long gone.’
‘Are you sure?’ asked Thóra. ‘Is it possible they didn’t go far, maybe just down into the basement on Sudurvegur Street?’
‘No, no,’ said Paddi, steering towards a gannet that had taken off from the water as they approached. ‘I watched them sail away. They were a bunch of numbskulls. They sailed out of the harbour in pretty bad weather. Their old tub was a bit beaten up, and I thought they should have repaired it before continuing their journey. So I kept an eye on them. But they definitely made it out.’
‘I’ve spoken to a lot of people, and not a single one has mentioned this to me,’ said Thóra, surprised. ‘Is it because you have a better memory, or is there something else going on?’
Paddi turned to smile at her.‘Naturally, some people have a better memory than others,’ he said.‘In this case there’s nothing going on, there’s a simple explanation: the smack didn’t stop here for long. It came in the evening and sailed away early the next morning, without many people noticing it.’
‘But you saw it leave?’ said Thóra.
‘Yes, I always had one foot down at the harbour, still have. Not much has changed. My wife used to suggest that we hire a bulldozer and push the house down there to spare me the to-ing and fro-ing.’ He looked up at the sky. ‘May God rest her soul.’ He resumed his story – much to Thóra’s relief, since she never knew what to say at moments like these. ‘So I was messing around down there, securing my boat because the forecast was bad, as I recall, when this smack came sailing into the harbour. The men were yapping something at me in a foreign language, and even though I didn’t understand the words I realized they were asking for mooring. I pointed them to an empty space and that was that.’
‘Do you know what nationality they were, or how many of them were on board?’ asked Thóra.
Paddi the Hook shook his head. ‘Bloody limeys, I think,’ he said. ‘I counted two, but there could have been more as it was quite a big boat.’
‘And when was it they left, given that it seems no one but you saw them? In the middle of the night?’
‘No, love,’ said Paddi.‘They waited out the worst of the weather, since their boat wasn’t exactly in the best condition. If I could have spoken to them man to man, in Icelandic, I would have pointed out that they could have repaired most of the damage here, with us. But it didn’t get to that stage, because I was up early the next morning and watched through the kitchen window as they sailed away. Although it was dark outside it was clearly them, because the harbour was lit. I recognized their smack as it travelled out to sea. They definitely left.’
‘Do you by any chance recall the name of the boat?’ asked Thóra.
‘No, I don’t,’ he replied, avoiding her glance. ‘I’m not so good at reading, I don’t mind admitting. It actually hasn’t been too much of a problem -I’m more one for working with my hands, and it’s often easier when book-learning’s not getting in your way.’
She smiled at him. ‘But you have got a good memory. How can you remember this, for example? Hundreds of boats must have been through this harbour; what was so special about this smack?’
‘There was nothing that special about it – it was a fairly good-looking boat and all that, but it’s true that other, better boats have stopped here.’ He looked back out over the rudder. ‘I remember it so clearly because of what happened the next morning, when Tolli discovered blood on the pier where it had been moored.’
Thóra’s expression revealed nothing, although she was very excited. ‘I’m guessing you mean the weekend before the eruption?’ she asked. ‘I’ve heard about this but I understood that no boat had been anchored there for a long time before the blood was found.’ She decided not to tell him where she’d heard this, since she preferred not to advertise the fact that she and Bella had been snooping through Gudni’s files.
‘That’s because no one knew the smack had been there but me,’ Paddi replied. ‘When I left the harbour it was there, but for some reason the men moved it from that pontoon over to one located a bit further to the east. I watched them sail away, but I’ve never understood why they moved the boat. Maybe the weather seemed worse in the place I pointed them to.’
‘Did you tell anyone about the boat?’ said Thóra. She was surprised this hadn’t come up in Gudni’s report, although there was a chance she and Bella had overlooked it in their haste.
‘No, actually I didn’t,’said Paddi. ‘No doubt I would have done eventually, but then the volcano went up and I had other things to think about. No one asked me, and then I had the feeling that this information might be used against someone. So I decided to wait and see, and Mother Nature decided for me. I have to admit that since the bodies were found in Maggi’s – Markus’s father’s – house I’ve often wondered about that blood on the pier, and I expect I’m not the only one.’
‘Do you mean the harbour-master who discovered the blood?’
‘No, he’s long dead, the old man,’ replied Paddi. ‘I was thinking about Inspector Leifsson, for starters, not to mention all the locals who came down to see it for themselves. You don’t see that quantity of blood on the pier just from a large catch of fish.’
Thóra thought for a moment.‘I’m sure you know who Dadi was,’ she said. ‘He was seen there that morning. Do you think he could have had something to do with the blood?’
‘That boring old bastard?’ said Paddi bluntly. ‘He may have, though I doubt it. Dadi was a lazy coward who wouldn’t say boo to a goose. He was a real drip, not like a proper Islander. His father wasn’t born here, you know.’
‘So do you think he was telling the truth when he denied knowing anything about the blood?’
‘I didn’t say that. He could have known more than he let on. Actually, he wasn’t the only one seen there -just the only one the police knew about.’
‘Really?’ exclaimed Thóra.‘There were others there? Why was this kept secret?’
‘I should make something clear before we go any further, so there’s no misunderstanding,’ said Paddi.‘Maggi was a decent fellow. He was a hard worker from the old school, who wasn’t afraid of anything and worked like a dog for his family. He deserves everything that he has, and I don’t know of anyone who thinks he got it through any funny business. Leifur is a good man too; Markus I only knew as a child, a cheeky little monkey, good fun.’
‘But?’ said Thóra.‘Praise like that is usually followed by a “but”.’
Paddi smiled at her. ‘But,’ he said, no humour in his voice, ‘when Maggi got ill and started losing his grip… Look, everyone knows about his condition although Leifur tries to keep it secret. He took over the company from his dad, and people are getting worried about how it’s going. Maria doesn’t bother to hide the fact that she’d rather live anywhere else but here. If they move, the company will be sold and the only ones who’d have the means to buy it would be big-city fat cats. And they would move the fishing rights somewhere where it would be more profitable to fit out the ships and process the catch. You might say Leifur has the whole community by the short and curlies, so everyone tiptoes around for fear of offending him. There are others to whom some of us owe our livelihood, but he’s the one who looks like he’s leaving.’
‘I see,’ said Thóra. She knew that the Islanders’ fears were not ungrounded – in such a small community, every employer mattered. ‘And you think Leifur uses this to keep people quiet?’ She was starting to convince herself that Magnus had been one of those seen down at the harbour that fateful night.
‘No,’ said Paddi.‘I’m pretty sure he doesn’t. In some ways Leifur is a simple fellow, like me, and doesn’t care much about what others are thinking. He just does his own thing and is probably pretty happy with how everything’s going, and no one argues with him when he suggests something. I predict that if things go on this way, he’ll get a big head.’ Paddi steered the ship closer to Heimaey and pointed out the land formed of new lava, which was impressive when you thought how short a time had passed since it had poured out. ‘The problem is that different people have different views on what’s best for Leifur and Markus, and on what can and can’t be said as far as this case goes. Almost all the Islanders will only say what they think will be best for the brothers. Whether that’s the right thing to do, that’s another question. Some people may actually be keeping quiet about the good things and discussing stuff that could make the brothers look bad, without realizing it.’
‘And what about you?’ Thóra asked.‘Don’t you fit into that group? You love this place, so you must want to do whatever’s best for it?’
Paddi clicked his tongue. ‘That’s not the way I’m made -
I don’t try to avoid the inevitable. All that does is make things worse. Maggi’s company will be sold. Maybe not today or tomorrow, perhaps not until Leifur wants to retire. However, on the evening of the day his children take over, the company will be sold. That much is certain. They’ve found their calling elsewhere and there’s no point ignoring the fact.‘
‘But why didn’t anyone mention the blood, since so many people have put two and two together? I don’t understand how people could decide that the story makes Markus look bad, or Leifur for that matter?’ Thóra wanted to hear what Paddi had to say about Magnus, though she suspected he wanted to leave the story untold and make her read between the lines.
‘Let’s make one thing clear. People couldn’t care less about Markus. In this case he and Leifur are in the same boat and he’s the one who’s copped it. But if Markus is locked up, Leifur will go to visit him, which might mean Leifur spending more time on the mainland. One thing will lead to another, and in the end Leifur will move away.’ Paddi glanced at Thóra. ‘You know what I mean?’She nodded. ‘Neither Markus nor Leifur was seen there; just their father.’ Paddi raised a hand to shield his eyes from the sun. ‘And there’s not much left to say, since ever-increasing numbers of those who can remember these events have lost their voices. None of us are spring chickens any more.’
‘But even if Magnus was seen there, it doesn’t mean he had anything to do with the blood,’ said Thóra, a little lost.
Paddi snorted. ‘That may be, but it’s what people thought at the time, and that hasn’t changed.’ He shrugged. ‘The one who started the rumour was the same one who told the police about Dadi. He was a grumpy old man,’ he grinned, displaying his decayed teeth. ‘Kind of like I am today.He was there for some reason in the middle of the night and stumbled across those two – Dadi and Magnus – in a heated argument, both looking wrung out. When they saw him they were startled, and went off in separate directions. The old guy was surprised they didn’t even say hello, but it wasn’t until later in the morning that he made the connection. He hadn’t noticed the blood, so the first he heard about it was when everyone started gathering down at the harbour to see what the police were looking at.’
‘How could this old man tell the police he’d seen Dadi without mentioning Magnus?’ asked Thóra.
‘That’s simple,’ said Paddi, steering the boat in a wide arc. ‘Everyone likes Magnus, and this old man was no exception. No one liked Dadi, so the man probably had no qualms about implicating him. It meant he could make things difficult for Dadi, who wasn’t a full Islander, and win himself a bit of the Islanders’attention at the same time.’
‘In other words, he told the police one thing and the rest of the town another?’ asked Thóra.‘It’s not a big town. The real story must have made its way to the ears of the authorities.’
Paddi looked at Thóra as if she were a retarded child. ‘Under normal circumstances it would have,’he said, straightening the rudder. ‘But the volcano erupted a few days later and the Islanders were scattered all over the place. The ones that stayed behind had more pressing business than a puddle of blood on the harbour. And then another man started saying he’d seen Dadi sail into the harbour in a dinghy that night, but most people agreed he made the story up for attention, wanting to play a part in the police investigation.’ He looked at Thóra. ‘But do you know what I’ve never understood?’ he asked, rhetorically. ‘Why that shithead Dadi didn’t mention Magnus when the police spoke to him. If the blood had nothing to do with him he could have simply said the two of them were there together, and explained what they were doing. And if Dadi was involved somehow, it still makes no sense. If they had been in on it together, surely Dadi would have told the police about Magnus? Then Magnus would either have confirmed Dadi’s alibi or gone down with him. And since Dadi was such a mean old bastard, he wouldn’t have thought that was so bad.’ Paddi held Thóra’s gaze. ‘Either way, the question is: why didn’t Dadi tell the police he’d been down at the harbour with Magnus?’